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raptureofthemoon::Part 1:: ; ::Part 2::
Eyes I Dare Not Meet in Dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
30 years of sleep had dulled neither his natural instincts nor those given him by the fumbling science of a madman. He knew it was only a matter of time before she sought him out again and standing in this little valley, downwind from the rest of the group, he was able to fixate on her scent before she drew close, that blend of lilac and light sweat coupled with the more private heady scents of womanhood.
The first time he’d caught the heavy aroma of copper he’d asked if she were wounded. The look she’d given him had prompted his clarification. I can smell blood on you. She’d turned away from him, blush staining her features, and he’d then realized the faux pas.
Now, he tried to politely ignore the scent that would be imperceptible to any other man but called out to the demon ingrained within the cells of his body. He could feel Chaos rising like a storm, wanting so much to take hold of young and untouched skin, to take the taste of life on his tongue. Strangely enough, Chaos’ desire was not to hurt. Nor to humiliate. It was something entirely different. Something even the demon himself could not put into thought or word.
Vincent pulled his cloak tighter around him and turned his face to the morning breeze.
“Vincent?”
She stepped close behind him. The heat from her body trickling along his spine.
“Cid said you’re going back to Nibelheim?”
“Yes.”
“Where will you stay?”
“The ShinRa Mansion.”
“Vincent? What…” She stopped and considered him. He could feel her eyes on his cheek, warm with curiosity and worry. “How can you…”
“It is the last place I knew…” He caught her eye and saw something there that he should have suspected. “I am not returning to stasis. You need not worry. I have no desire to spend another thirty years in sleep.”
“I didn’t think—that...” Tifa’s mouth quirks; her version of a sardonic smile. “Barret’s told me I get too involved in people’s lives.” She turned away. “But…I wanted to ask.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Would you mind if I came with you?”
He wasn’t sure but he might have blanched because Tifa’s face shadowed and she turned away.
“It’s just,” she started, “I can’t go back to Midgar. What’s left of Midgar… Not yet. Nibelheim,” she paused, “It was my home and I haven’t been back since…”
“You will stay at your family’s home?”
Tifa nodded. “Not sure for how long.”
“I have no objection to your company.”
Tifa grinned. “That’s a resounding welcome coming from you.”
He could feel his lips twitch in an alien way. Not quite a smile, but close enough. Tifa looked as though she were about to say something else but was cut off by the sound of the Highwind’s blades stirring the grasses around them and Cid’s cigarette roughened voice echoing over the ship’s loudspeakers.
“Hey! This rig’s movin’ out. Your asses wanna be on it!”
Tifa glanced at the ship, rolling her eyes, gave Vincent a half shrug and followed in the wake of the other stragglers just making their way on board.
Vincent cast one more look around him, the grasses flattened from a combination of the Life Stream’s violent reaction the day before and the Highwind’s presence, the ruin of the northern crater, empty now save for the creatures that lived deep in its shadows.
If he were a different man, this might have been the moment he offered a prayer of thanks or one asking for benediction.
Checking the Death Penalty in its home against his hip, he turned and walked toward the airship.
Eyes I Dare Not Meet in Dreams
In death’s dream kingdom
These do not appear
There, the eyes are
Sunlight on a broken column
30 years of sleep had dulled neither his natural instincts nor those given him by the fumbling science of a madman. He knew it was only a matter of time before she sought him out again and standing in this little valley, downwind from the rest of the group, he was able to fixate on her scent before she drew close, that blend of lilac and light sweat coupled with the more private heady scents of womanhood.
The first time he’d caught the heavy aroma of copper he’d asked if she were wounded. The look she’d given him had prompted his clarification. I can smell blood on you. She’d turned away from him, blush staining her features, and he’d then realized the faux pas.
Now, he tried to politely ignore the scent that would be imperceptible to any other man but called out to the demon ingrained within the cells of his body. He could feel Chaos rising like a storm, wanting so much to take hold of young and untouched skin, to take the taste of life on his tongue. Strangely enough, Chaos’ desire was not to hurt. Nor to humiliate. It was something entirely different. Something even the demon himself could not put into thought or word.
Vincent pulled his cloak tighter around him and turned his face to the morning breeze.
“Vincent?”
She stepped close behind him. The heat from her body trickling along his spine.
“Cid said you’re going back to Nibelheim?”
“Yes.”
“Where will you stay?”
“The ShinRa Mansion.”
“Vincent? What…” She stopped and considered him. He could feel her eyes on his cheek, warm with curiosity and worry. “How can you…”
“It is the last place I knew…” He caught her eye and saw something there that he should have suspected. “I am not returning to stasis. You need not worry. I have no desire to spend another thirty years in sleep.”
“I didn’t think—that...” Tifa’s mouth quirks; her version of a sardonic smile. “Barret’s told me I get too involved in people’s lives.” She turned away. “But…I wanted to ask.”
Vincent raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”
“Would you mind if I came with you?”
He wasn’t sure but he might have blanched because Tifa’s face shadowed and she turned away.
“It’s just,” she started, “I can’t go back to Midgar. What’s left of Midgar… Not yet. Nibelheim,” she paused, “It was my home and I haven’t been back since…”
“You will stay at your family’s home?”
Tifa nodded. “Not sure for how long.”
“I have no objection to your company.”
Tifa grinned. “That’s a resounding welcome coming from you.”
He could feel his lips twitch in an alien way. Not quite a smile, but close enough. Tifa looked as though she were about to say something else but was cut off by the sound of the Highwind’s blades stirring the grasses around them and Cid’s cigarette roughened voice echoing over the ship’s loudspeakers.
“Hey! This rig’s movin’ out. Your asses wanna be on it!”
Tifa glanced at the ship, rolling her eyes, gave Vincent a half shrug and followed in the wake of the other stragglers just making their way on board.
Vincent cast one more look around him, the grasses flattened from a combination of the Life Stream’s violent reaction the day before and the Highwind’s presence, the ruin of the northern crater, empty now save for the creatures that lived deep in its shadows.
If he were a different man, this might have been the moment he offered a prayer of thanks or one asking for benediction.
Checking the Death Penalty in its home against his hip, he turned and walked toward the airship.
