Warnings: This story involves homosexual themes, as well as mild-language and violence use in future chapters. If you are disturbed in any way by any of these contents, you might as well click on the "back" button of your browser. Now.
Disclaimer: I owns cookie. You owns cookie? You don't owns cookie. And I don't owns characters. How sad be that? At least I have cookie…
Note: Chapter edited as of April 7, 17:20 Pm. Just now I found out about FF-net's policy of deleting anything that looks like a website's url, so there were multiple parts that didn't make sense due to the lack of a certain couple of words. It's been fixed: the words are now separated by a dash instead of a dot. Thanks for reading!
MISCONCEPTIONS
Chapter Three: Sunny Moons.
It was a sunny morning.
A sunny and perfect morning, with birds chirping in the trees, children playing in the park and angry people with hangovers hiding behind a pair of shades.
Angry people that had groaned when the alarm-set radio had broken the early silence of a poorly slept night. Angry people that had growled when the coffee machine had decided to spurt a thick black blob of some undetermined substance as its dying pledge. Very angry people who had bellowed their annoyance to no one in particular when the garage door had been resolute on remaining closed and unmoving as its owner had tapped the control energetically enough to ignite a flaming torch on his finger.
It was a sunny, perfect morning, and Cloud already hated every passing second of it.
He was hurriedly marching towards the nearest taxi stop with hands balled in tight fists at his sides and a deep scowl marring his features; the sky might have been blue and the air fresh, yet, as far as he was concerned, Cloud wasn't giving a shit for such a lovely day after his dreadful awakening and the lack of caffeine to make up for his bad mood.
And because he was such a pessimist, he knew all too well that when Karma pounded you out of bed with a mauling headache, it just wasn't about to deliver an enjoyable day at your doorstep.
Expecting a cab to stop before him anytime soon, he leaned his weight against a streetlamp and tilted his head upwards to sniffle at the clean, Monday morning air; the fragrance of dew and freshly born leaves invaded his senses, mildly clearing his dulled mind from the powerful hangover throbbing. It was refreshing to feel the breeze carry the rich variety of scents into his tired lungs – the strong odours of nature, purity and… strawberry flavoured candy.
Cloud cringed, disgusted with the pungent smell that reached his nostrils. Slowly, he lowered his head until his gaze met a still figure at the height of his knees; a child, he noticed. A child sporting a toothless grin that belied the apparently innocent expression on his face.
The blond lowered his sunglasses an inch over the bridge of his nose, peering at the beaming kid over the rim, who just chuckled and extended a signalling finger outwards. Cloud arched an eyebrow and followed the pointer on its direction towards the hem of his pants… where a red lollipop was neatly stuck.
The brat giggled and took off in a sprint, leaving Cloud to wallow in the misery of being unable to answer as a taxi suddenly made its halt right next to him. Anxiously scuffling with the cab's door handle, he heard the driver shift in his seat to check him out through the opened window.
"Where to, sir?" he asked politely.
"Central Avenue. Fast," came Cloud's curt reply as he dipped into the car.
The driver faced the steering wheel and watched the incomer accommodate himself in the mirror as he pretended to adjust it. With a short shrug, the man pulled the car into the lane and sped down in the indicated direction.
Behind him, Cloud watched the city scroll by with his forehead pressed against the glass. He pulled back an inch and pushed forward again, a soft thump reverberating as his head made contact with the pane. Recoiling, he bumped the window once more, and another time after the first, and yet over and over again, until the driver, who was starting to feel insecure in regards to the sanity of his latest passenger, turned his head around and spoke up.
"Lovely day, isn't it, sir?" The man's attempt to establish a light conversation was promptly retorted with a quiet grunt from the back seat.
However, feeling undeterred, the young taxi owner kept on chattering as if the growl had actually invited him to proceed with the monologue. Cheerfully going on about the idiosyncrasy of spring weather, he failed to notice as Cloud rubbed his temple and mournfully scowled to himself for not avoiding such a foresighted taxi-moment.
"…of course, you'd say it's because of global warming, but I think I have the final solution, yanno'? If we would just put a bit of…"
Cloud groaned yet again and hung his head in defeat, resigned to the fact that he'd have to endure a good thirty minutes of such trivial natter and gossip. From that position, his eyes fell on the spot where the garnet candy was still perched in all its sticky glory, the sharp stench of it still lingering about. Grimacing, he reached down to tug at the small baton, detaching it from his pants and tossing it over his shoulder and out of the car. The icky odour seemed to diminish slightly, allowing Cloud a second of peace before it was disrupted by the man whose reflection was on the rear-view mirror, watching him attentively. He had probably asked some question that had passed unheard by the inquired subject.
"Sir? Are you there, sir?"
"What is it?" Cloud grudgingly conceded, his courtesy all but forgotten.
The driver blinked and swallowed through the growing lump in his throat, "I was wondering if you'd support the IDT-K5 program that Sunny Corp. is sponsoring."
Cloud remained impassive, "I don't know what the hell you're talking about."
"I just… I… well, I thought you would have been listening to me…" The man's voice sounded faintly bitter, and the blond felt a sudden jab of guilt hitting at his conscience.
"I'm sorry, eh…"
"Terez. Wakka Terez."
"Sorry, Wakka, I just got up on the wrong side of the bed. I didn't mean to… you know." Cloud's apology seemed to sink in almost instantly as the man named Wakka recovered his joyful appearance all too quickly.
"Oh, it's okay sir! Really, I know what it feels like, yanno? See, my girlfriend has this odd mood swing issue going on and it's like…" Much to Cloud's dismay, Wakka resumed his fast paced soliloquy as if nothing had been said to deter him from continuing.
Pinching the bridge of his nose from under his shades, Cloud settled on never grabbing a taxi again, regardless that his life would be pending on it; surely dying couldn't be any worse than hearing some stranger's fetish with his girl's pink underwear.
He cocked his head just in time to see the young man speaking to him again, while one of his hands left the wheel to rummage inside the cabinet. The blond ogled him suspiciously, idly wondering if he'd make it to his office in one piece as his driver was actually steering with a single hand and his eyes fixed on whatever he was searching for.
"…but of course they don't like it like that, do they? I mean, what the hell!? They could just say it out loud and get it done with! But of course they can't. They just can't! Because they can't, can they?"
"Uh, of course, they can't…" Cloud had no clue of who couldn't do what.
Even so, Wakka seemed satisfied with the answer he received, nodding energetically as he drew his arm back from the cabinet and focused on the road ahead. Cloud sighed in relief.
"That's what I always say! But naturally there's no way they would admit it and because of that…" Wakka unwrapped the item he had pulled out of the cabinet and flipped it into his mouth, "…it'f impoffible to figure owt thweir nweeds, you gwet //pop// meh?"
Bubblegum. Wakka was chewing and popping on a thick chunk of bubblegum. Reeking strawberry flavoured bubblegum.
Cloud had never felt so close to bursting into tears.
------0------
"Good morning, Mister Strife!" greeted a young woman who sat behind a bureau as sliding crystal doors granted access to a very sour-looking blond.
"Morning," he muttered back, approaching his secretary, "any mail?"
She nodded shortly and brushed her foot to a side, kicking a small cardboard box from beneath the desk. Picking it up, she pulled out letter after letter, checking the names of their rightful owners.
"Oh, by the way, Larxene, from Destiny-Org called," the woman announced, still occupied with discarding the parcels whose recipient weren't Cloud. "She said that a representative from their company would be arriving early today at the airport."
"Exactly how soon is 'early today'?" Cloud suspected that he'd barely have enough time to make himself decent for a public appearance.
"Considering she called like two hours ago…" She finished stacking the letters, levelled them against the desk and held them out towards the blond. "I'd say, more or less, in an hour."
And thus, Cloud's suspicions were confirmed.
Growling throatily, he brusquely snatched the envelopes from the hovering hand and made his way to the elevator, ignoring the wide-eyed look on the woman's face.
"M-mister Strife, sir…" She stood up, reaching out to stop her boss.
Cloud spun around and took off his glasses in one swift motion, revealing the dark shadows that pooled under his worn-out sapphire eyes. The secretary pulled back an inch, startled by the man's unearthly appearance.
"Uh…it's just… eh…" she babbled, intimidated by the glare that threatened with splitting her in half.
"Today." Cloud cut in rudely.
The woman made a large intake of air, "Sir, how will you know who it is, once you're at the airport?"
His eye twitched.
So she had a point; it's not like he had tried asking for any details concerning the person he'd be picking up in less than fifty minutes. Then again, names wouldn't do him any good as his plan didn't consist of snooping through people's private space in order to identify them. Instead, he reassured himself that his own methods would be infallible.
"Fine, what does he look like?" he asked. The young woman arched her eyebrows in surprise.
"I'm not sure, sir; they didn't say much…"
"They had to say something!" Cloud pushed.
"Well…" The secretary tilted her head upwards, trying to recover such hazy bits of information. "She mentioned something about having white hair, despite a truly juvenile appearance and…"
"'kay, that's all I need to know." He brushed her off with a wave of his hand and a quick retreat into the elevator as the door slid open. Looking back, though, he regarded the stunned woman with a sympathetic look as he resumed, ever so much more politely, "Thank you, Tifa."
"No problem… Cloud." She waved an idle hand at the closing metal door before plummeting back into her seat and spinning it round a couple of times.
Vaguely aware of her lack of composure, Tifa pursed her lips in a think-line and damned herself for being unable to find a job where she wouldn't be treated like a door mat; stepped on, rubbed on - even kicked around by those who decided to awake with their ass tied up in a knot.
She damned herself and herself alone, for being unable to confess the feelings that constricted her chest every time the object of her affection was nearby. For holding down the words that fluttered in her head whenever he spoke to her, questioned her, needed her…
The words that, much to her own chagrin, would probably have her searching for another employment as soon as they were let loose.
So she settled for silence. Eternal silence for the aching heart.
Because, even if being a tissue to a company of ill-tempered people was annoying, anything was better than punching a way through bandit-infested streets, earning less than a penny for every droplet of her own spilled blood.
Two floors above, Cloud rushed out of the elevator holding a set of unfolded letters to his eyes. Strolling towards his office, he gracefully avoided the unseen obstacles in his way as he shuffled through the papers in his hands.
Four corridors and three corners later, he found himself in front of a crystal panelled door with his name neatly framed on it. Blindly reaching out for the handle, he was surprised to find no resistance as the door swung open on its own, hinting that the room had been occupied before his appearance.
Unalarmed, he continued into the room, papers still on level with his examining gaze. Grabbing a cup from a nearby shelf, he slipped it into the hollow of a coffee machine and pressed the button for an espresso; shortly after, the room was filled with the beverage's aromatic steam.
With both the cup and letter in hand, Cloud moved around his desk and plopped down on his rolling chair, shifting a bit until he found the right spot. He sipped from his cup once, eyes fixed on the text he pretended to be reading. He sipped again, and again, and many more times, to the point where there wasn't much more than air to drink from.
And then, with no more excuses left to keep on ignoring the foreign presence in the room, Cloud lowered the cup and looked over the rim of the pages.
"I'll give you a second and half to explain your reasons for skipping work." He spoke with a dangerous calmness to his voice.
"I missed you…" was the soft answer from the brunet sitting across him.
Cloud gaped for an instant and then creased his brow in a deep scowl.
"You made that up," he spat.
"True, but you actually fell for it." The other man gave him a lopsided smirk and crossed his legs so that his ankle rested on top of his left knee.
"You're as funny as a stab in the groin, Leonhart," the blond mumbled, annoyed.
Squall simply shrugged and stretched his arms over his head, arching his back slightly so that his shirt rose barely an inch over his skin. Cloud flinched inwardly as the view of that tan, worked-out stomach filled his vision for a split second.
He was so damn sure that it hadn't been coincidental…
"I'm still waiting to hear why, exactly, did you think that breaking into my office during your work schedule would be appreciated."
"Well, wasn't it a surprise to find me here?" Squall tried, looking at the bad-humoured man.
"No," he said flatly, "I'd very much rather Death surprising me than you."
Squall feigned hurt and sighed heavily, "Cloud, you hurt my feelings!"
"You don't have any of those."
"Ah, but I can surely buy a few over the internet…" the metallic-eyed man replied, nonchalantly brushing his hair back with both hands.
Cloud's eye twitched visibly as he fumbled nervously with the papers, "I don't have time for this crap…"
He tried ending the conversation by averting his attention to the documents he held, but his attempt was soon declared unsuccessful as a hand slapped the bills and notes back over the desk.
"Remove that limb from my table or I'll cut it and use it as a paperweight." Cloud spoke softly, venom lining every word.
However, the warning fell on deaf ears as Squall did nothing to budge from his position.
"I need a favour," he said.
"How could I not foresee that…" the blond muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes.
"Cloud…"
"What the hell is it?!"
Slamming his hands hard against the wooden surface, Cloud jumped from his chair and pushed himself forward so that his face was barely a foot away from the brunet's.
Squall, far from being intimidated, just stared at him impassively, his smirk dropping to be replaced by a stony look from narrowed indigo eyes.
"I don't know what the fuck is your problem, Strife, and I really don't care about finding out either," his voice no longer held an amused tone to it, but the flat, rigid drone of an imminent threat, "but you're not venting it out on me."
Cloud felt his confidence oscillate under the weight of the other man's steel-hard gaze; yet, with his pride being on stake, he dared to open his mouth to reply as he tilted his head slightly aside, "Funny, I could swear that up until a second ago I was the boss here."
"The boss here has a serious mood swinging issue that I'm not willing to cope with," Squall stated rather bluntly.
Quite disconcerted with the replies he was receiving, Cloud had no choice but to recoil and sit back down in silence. Hanging his head in what seemed to be defeat, he brushed his bangs aside and rubbed his forehead several times. Meanwhile, Squall just watched him neutrally but, by the way that his glowering had softened into a condescending look of sympathy, it was clear that he understood the blond's restlessness that morning.
"What did you want?" the weary man finally conceded, his hangover-induced irritability worn out by exhaustion.
"I need the day off," Squall commented unceremoniously.
"Again?!" Cloud pulled his head out of the hollow of his hands to gawk disbelievingly at the shrugging man.
"It's important."
"That's what you said the last ten times you asked for a day off..."
"This time it really is important," Squall pressed.
"…And that's what you said about each of them after I fell for the first one," Cloud concluded, frown returning to mar his face.
Pocketing his hands in the back of his jeans, Squall started pacing around the room, nervously huffing while glancing at the blond ever so often.
Cloud was pretty much right when he accused him of missing work all too often; surely any other boss wouldn't have been so permissive about such a lack of regularity. Then again, another boss probably wouldn't have had the history Cloud had with him, and that was, much to the blond's mortification and to Squall's advantage, what kept his workplace safe and assured… for now.
Resolute in obtaining what he wanted, the brunet strode across the office and around Cloud's desk, laying a hand down and positioning himself so that he was practically hovering over the other man's ear.
"Cloud…I'll make it up to you, I promise," he whispered, his breath caressing the side of the man's face.
Stunned by the sudden proximity, Cloud could barely conceive the words without the seductive tinges embedded on them. Sparing a glance aside, his eyes fell on the cobalt pools that stared at him less than an inch away; electric-blue irises that bore into his like icy spears, navigating through his thoughts at their own word. Somehow, Cloud knew he should feel disturbed, uncomfortable with the connection established by the extreme closeness and the unyielding silence; still, with his awareness dulled by the waves of human heat emitted by the body next to him, he was all too willing to let himself go down with his emotions, with his senses – to let himself drown in those eyes that were scrutinizing his reactions thoroughly.
Those eyes that were practically examining him like some laboratory's specimen.
Gradually regaining his composure and alertness, Cloud fought back the giddy haziness he'd have been so content to give into the prior second; making a not-so-subtle intake of air, he gulped twice and pulled himself to sit upright.
"Are you okay?" Squall asked, his voice no longer a murmur.
"…fine, just fine," replied Cloud, as he tried to conceal the increasing blush on his cheeks.
"So, about the day off…"
"Do whatever the hell you want. It's not like anything I say will actually make a difference…" Running a hand over his brow as if checking out for a possible fever, the blond man looked up to meet a smug-looking Squall.
"I promised, I'll make it up for you," he confirmed yet again. Cloud rolled his eyes.
"Go buy a manual as of how to be more creative, Squall. You're sucking up on those old, overused oaths."
"Maybe I'll get around to fulfilling any of them someday, go wonder." Squall detached himself from the other man's back and headed for the exit.
Sighing in relief from being unburdened of the brunet's weight and presence, Cloud watched as the man made his way to the door, stopping briefly to pull it open.
"Do me the favour – tell Roxas to assist to the reunion in my place and fill me in with the contents tomorrow, okay?" Squall turned back to regard the man sitting behind his desk as he requested to ask the service from his younger co-worker; he recalled owing the boy for quite a few errands already, for which he was certain that one more time would probably earn him a very disgruntled associate.
Then again, Squall could live with that.
Especially when it would be Cloud delivering the news to the unfortunate kid.
"Just remind me of why did I hire you in the first place…" the blond questioned, almost rhetorically, as he checked his subordinate warily.
"Because you had the hots for me," was the flatly honest reply.
"Ah yes… that mistake." Shaking his head slowly, Cloud dismissed the man as he backtracked out of the office, pulling the door shut with him.
With nothing but silence to accompany him in his office, he finally allowed himself to lean back and surrender to the calm after the storm, to the peace, to the quiet…
…to the ticking wall clock that announced the imminent arrival of Destiny-Org's visitor and the belated reception he'd probably find if Cloud didn't start moving that very instant.
Inwardly grunting at his horrid luck that morning, the blond scraped his nails along the slick surface of his desk and rose from his chair. Brushing all the papers down into a drawer, he picked up his coffee mug and walked over to the small bathroom attached to his office.
He dropped the porcelain recipient in a sill near the basin as he watched his mirror image carefully. Eye bags, check; greyish hue to his skin, check; permanent scowl and slouched shoulders, check; conclusion: he looked like shit.
Simply perfect for an important meeting.
Instinctively reaching out for his wrist, he twisted his watch so that the clock faced upwards. He hung his head to examine it and realized that he barely had fifteen minutes left to get to the airport.
By foot.
Just because he had vowed to never let himself get caught inside a taxi again.
Irony had the funniest way of thrashing one up with the use of his own words.
------0------
The airport, as suspected, was crammed with people.
People of all sorts – people leaving, arriving, crying or smooching their lovers until they sucked the life out of them…
Hordes of people in a rush, hurrying to catch that plane that had been announced to be departing in the prior minutes. They pushed past other people, who shouted irately as their belongings were tossed and scattered around the floor. And then more people ran by, some stepping on the items, some kneeling to pick them up, some tripping over them and falling on their backs and some just staring from a distance at the ongoing commotion.
Cloud was not amused; human recklessness was not something he liked to entertain nor involve himself with. Standing a few feet away from the fuss, he scanned the area repeatedly, searching for white layered heads and juvenile faces among the masses.
So maybe asking for other details would have been a good idea after all. He had seen young faces framed by hair of all the colors in the spectrum and snowy manes covering features in which youth shined by its absence, but as far as it came to putting both qualities together, he had yet to see any vestige of something that resembled it.
Unfortunately, Cloud's patience was running far too low to have the least bit of tolerance towards the wait.
He had walked halfway to the airport and practically jogged the other half as the fifteen minutes had proved to be less than enough to get there in time. He wasn't sure of what the visitor would think of him if he got there late and wheezing like a deflating balloon, but, regardless of all that, he was still not picking a damn taxi.
However, upon his arrival, he had been surprised to find no one waiting for him; no one looking confused and lost or expectant of someone holding a banner with his name. No one with washed-out hair and a kid's face. No one at all.
And thus, Cloud was pissed. Royally.
"I should have sent Tifa to stand here like a growing pine tree…" he bristled to himself, tossing his jacket over his shoulder.
He had rolled his sleeves up to his elbows and opened the first few buttons of his shirt, revealing a slender neck that lead down to a mildly pronounced collarbone and a hint of flat, well built chest; of course, with the way he'd been sprinting his legs off in the previous ten minutes, his body was reacting to the over-exertion by retaining and increasing the atmospheric temperature almost suffocatingly.
Nervously tapping his foot against the tiled floor, Cloud swept a gaze across the hall yet again in search of his unpunctual target. He was all too ready to turn around and head back towards the exit when a sudden flash of white reached him out of the corner of his eye.
Doubtful of his perception, the blond spun on his heels to make a better assessment of what hopefully was the end of his wait. He rocked left and right, trying to catch another glimpse of what he'd seen the second before in between the streams of people running in all directions.
And when he was finally able to stare straight into the person's face, he did all that could be possibly done in that split second before the other became aware of his presence.
He ogled like an idiot.
Cloud felt as if the currents of time had actually stopped in his favour the moment he landed his eyes on the lean figure standing barely four feet away from him; a man so gorgeous that he could have definitely been mistaken for heaven's representative instead of Destiny-Org's. A man, almost a god, with soft, polished features carved in flawless ivory skin and with the most stunning feline-like eyes he had seen in his entire life.
As much as he realized that his shameless gawking would probably lead the man to think strangely, Cloud couldn't pull himself out of the reverie as easily as he'd gotten into it; the subject of his examination had moved himself about two feet closer to his standing position, without actually noticing him yet. From that place, the blond could then appreciate details that had been overlooked in the first evaluation.
Up-close, the hair that rose in two lengthy bangs to frame his face, and fell over his back in a cascade of silky strings, seemed to have a shine of its own, a silvery gleam that disproved the fact of it being decoloured or simply white.
Cloud was far beyond pleased, observing the man's graceful posture and moves; from the sway of his long mane, to the nervous shifting of his weight on each leg alternatively, there was something intriguing, fascinating and alarmingly attractive about him.
Something Cloud wouldn't give a rest to until it was his for the taking.
Not one to make his guests feel unwelcome, the blond stepped up towards the other man, holding a hand out the instant that those glowing emerald orbs fell on him from above.
"Sorry for the delay. I suppose you're from Destiny? The name's Cloud, nice to make your acquaintance."
The long-haired man blinked once and took a hold of the offered limb, all the while looking nonplussed from the rapid outburst of disordered greetings.
Regaining some of his cool he replied, "Sephiroth, from Destiny indeed. And I imagine you're the one they sent to meet me?"
Cloud nodded, uncertain if he'd sensed disappointment in the man's words, or if it had been his imagination playing games on him.
"Nice to meet you, Cloud." His name seemed to linger in the air for a moment after Sephiroth pronounced it, a sultry tinge present in his voice. Or so Cloud had liked to think.
In any case, the feeling was too nice to let it go unrepeated.
"So, I take it that the plane got caught up in the delay?" he asked, trying to initiate any sort of conversation to spare himself from the uncomfortable silence.
Sephiroth nodded. "One of the engines seemed to register a failure before the takeoff," he mentioned curtly.
"Then it's a good thing that they fixed it, or you'd have probably landed in a pancake of debris." Humouring himself with his own joke, Cloud cocked his head to find the blank face of his visitor pointedly staring at him.
Consciousness hit him then like a ten ton frying pan in the back of the head.
"Eh… sorry. I wasn't… I didn't… never mind. Forget what I said…" Scratching his scalp almost painfully fast, Cloud was surprised to hear a low rumbling sound from above. A soft vibration that sounded almost like…
…a chuckle?
"Yes, you're probably right. Wouldn't have liked to keep you waiting that long."
Cloud discovered a whole new world as a smile drew itself on Sephiroth's lips; a small gesture – so casual and light-hearted – that morphed his face into the most beautiful and heart-wrenching image he'd ever seen. The man's green eyes shone with a light of their own, irradiating warmth and comfort in a degree that had the blond melting into a puddle of deeply infatuated goo.
And it was then when Cloud realized that, after losing himself to the taller man's intense presence for the first time, he'd be unable to live the rest of his life without it.
"I ehm… do you think we could…"
"Think we could make out into forever, right here, right now?"
"…go for a drink? I'm sure business can wait for a while." Cloud finally finished, his random, perverted thoughts discarded as the silver-haired man nodded quietly and walked ahead of him.
The blond was quick to follow, though not before capturing and embedding the picture of Sephiroth's perfectly shaped lower back in his mind. Having the courtesy to allow one's guests to lead the way could be so, so rewarding at times…
"So do you actually live here?" he asked as he walked alongside the other man.
"Indeed. In the seventh district to be precise," Sephiroth replied casually.
Cloud was surprised by the ease with which the representative seemed to give away such details. Perhaps he had felt he could trust him? Or was it that he had deliberately wanted to let him into that information?
Either way, he was determined to find out more, even if he had to poke his nose where it didn't belong.
"I would have thought someone like you would live elsewhere..." Lost in his musings, Cloud didn't realize that he had sounded particularly rude with his last statement. However, he became brutally aware of his mistake as soon as questioning green orbs fell back on him.
"I mean, someone with your style of life… job… you… get my point?" He tentatively tried to fix it as his hand shot out on reflex to rub the back of his neck.
Sephiroth's gaze remained fixed on its target, piercing through it like a paper doll. Cloud shuddered.
"Your eloquence doesn't really cease to amaze me." As the other man spewed his disapproving comment, Cloud felt as if someone had tossed the weight of the world over his head.
"But if I'm honest, I like it better that way. I'm too tired to keep up with the formalities of a normal meeting." Sephiroth finished his sentence with a weary but reassuring smile.
And Cloud felt as if heaven had just opened its gates, sending a choral of silver-haired angels to meet him on his way up.
"Well in that case, maybe we should trade numbers before the formalities vanish completely." With nothing to keep him from blatantly showing his interest in the other man, the blond snuck a hand in his pocket and pulled the small calling device out.
Side glancing, he could appreciate Sephiroth doing the same as he flipped his phone open and pressed in the five digits that composed Cloud's name.
Cloud just wrote four: S-e-p-h.
The other man wouldn't have to know about his given nickname until Cloud was free to say it out loud; something that, he hoped, would happen soon enough.
Raising his phone up high, he gestured towards the taller man to face his way, "Mind if I take a picture to add to the number?"
Sephiroth looked up an inch from his cell to stare into Cloud's. He blinked and averted his eyes towards the owner of the tool, as if asking for a better reason to take his picture than just adding it to the memo.
So that hadn't been the most subtle way to make an advance, Cloud thought, as a very inconvenient blush creep up to his cheeks from the base of his neck.
Why couldn't Earth be resilient for once and swallow him whole?
"You might want to do it today."
Then again, Earth could wait for its meal.
His voice low, Sephiroth brought him out of his brooding instantly. Befuddled, Cloud focused the camera lens back on his objective. He shifted the phone a bit until the small screen captured most of the other man's gorgeous face in it and then drew his finger down over the button to snap the shot.
Suddenly, a gush of wind streamed down the hall with almost violent swiftness, pushing past them with unyielding force. With barely enough time to move or cover, Cloud rose an arm to cover his face as Sephiroth imitated him, shoving a hand in his wildly flailing hair and raising his elbow to shield himself.
Then, in that very moment, when the wind fought obstinately to drive them out of the way, when people all around shouted and held on to their luggage for safety, when papers and unidentified objects flew about haphazardly with no true aim…
Then… time stopped.
And blue met green.
Sky met Earth.
Sun met Moon.
And Cloud knew that he had been sentenced to live the bond that fate had tied him to for eternity.
Snap!
Looking up, he realized that his finger had worked on its own in pressing down the button of his phone and sealing away the picture of the man standing before him. There he was, in an astounding capture of the previous moment, with his hand tangled up in an uncontrollable disarray of silver hair and a gleaming gaze that penetrated far beyond the camera, over at the person holding it.
Cloud felt his core burn with a vast amount of indefinite feelings as he pocketed the device and forced himself to regard his guest yet again. The wind had stopped as quickly as it had arrived, leaving the aftermath of the hurricaned event to take place among the crowds.
Sephiroth was trying to rearrange his hair, brushing it behind his ears in a vain attempt to regain its uniformity. Without a second thought, Cloud reached a hand out to retrieve a strand that had stuck itself between the man's lips; unconsciously, he had closed in the distance to the point that he was scarcely a foot away from him.
Softly tugging on the tress, the blond was allured by the extreme softness and by the clean, fresh scent that emanated from it. If only he could stay like that forever…
"Cloud…" Sephiroth's voice came out soft but firm, an uncomfortable sort of anxiety present in the way he pronounced the shorter man's name.
Cloud, however, remained still, his eyes hazed and glassy as he idly twirled the silver lock around his finger.
"This could sound stupid but…" Unlike Sephiroth's, Cloud's voice sounded husky and swathed in foreign, not-so-well-hidden emotions, "…do you think it's possible… do you believe in-"
"Excuse me, Sephiroth?"
Springing back to life, both men were pulled into the normal flow of time as a third voice intruded in their personal space. Or at least in the personal space Cloud had wanted to create by pressing into the unsteady-looking man with him.
They both spun their head at once to look upon the other person standing there; it was a young man, probably younger than the both of them, with iridescent emerald eyes and flamingly spiked red hair. His face was angular and thin, and he was acutely slim for his height. There was something wild and almost feral about him in all of his appearance, yet it was hard to put a finger on it given the composure with which the man stood, silently surveying the subject of his querying.
"Who would like to know?" Sephiroth questioned in turn, pulling back from Cloud as he did so.
"Axel Cortés, from Oblivion Editions. I believe we had arranged a meeting for this morning but…" He fixed his eyes on Cloud, "I can see you've been distracted from the original plan."
Cloud watched him irritated as he opened his mouth to intercede, "Well I still fail to see what's your role in this-"
"You're from Oblivion Editions?" Sephiroth was the one to cut him short as he moved away towards Axel, "Then… who are you?"
With confusion written all over his face, he swiftly turned around to face the blond in search for an answer. To his aggravation, though, all he found was an expression as lost and puzzled as his own.
"I believe I can answer that." A fourth voice pushed in, sending the whole conversation into a spiral of non-stopping nonsense.
All heads turned to inspect the newcomer and, in that very moment, too many things were cleared up in a blinding flash of dawning realization.
Oh, shit…
"Cloud Strife, right?" A hand extended itself towards the alluded man, who simply gawked at it in sheer disbelief, "Xemnas Von Thamere, from Destiny-Org. A pleasure to find you here, albeit somewhat late…"
It was his common sense that finally got him to salute the man that he had originally been supposed to meet, although his mind was still reeling at an impossible speed through the maze of mixed up ideas and stray concepts.
So if Xemnas was from why did Sephiroth…?
"I'm afraid I might have led to this misunderstanding then, as I introduced myself as a part of Destiny. Destiny being the writer syndicate I happen to lead."
Shit. Shitshitshitshit. Shit!
"Well, this makes it all much more obvious," Axel said, shrugging slightly as he stuffed his hands in the pockets of his baggy jeans.
It was all so obvious indeed – Sephiroth was a writer meeting a publisher for his latest novel, while Xemnas was the man who Larxene had mentioned to be arriving as his guest.
And in all, Cloud was just a lovesick idiot with hardly enough definition skills to discern between a hydrogen filled balloon and a wrecking ball flying directly his way.
Or between business and the object of his inexplicably impulsive affections for that matter.
"In that case, if everything's been cleared up, we might as well take it up to proceed with our respective meetings, don't you think?" It was Xemnas's turn to speak up. Everyone but Cloud nodded.
"Right then, a pleasure meeting you all. Sephiroth? Let's go." Turning on his heels, Axel proceeded to walk the short path left towards the exit without waiting to see if he was being followed.
On his account, Sephiroth checked the blond in front of him one last time. He almost felt sorry for the man, as his shoulders had slumped forward and his face was severely downcast in what seemed utmost disappointment. He didn't even look up to meet his eyes as the silver-haired man bid him a silent farewell and turned to trail on Axel's lead.
Yet, he hadn't walked more than three steps away when all of a sudden he felt a strong grip jerking his wrist from behind. Shocked, he looked back in time to meet crystal clear blue eyes boring into his as a hand darted out to get a hold of his long loose tendrils.
"What the-?"
"I don't care who you are or where you come from…" Cloud whispered, "But I swear, I won't let you go. Not like this. Not that easily."
And as if to sign and seal his adamant vow, he took the soft strand of hair to his lips and placed a kiss on it, with his eyes never leaving those of the abashed man who gaped at him.
Sephiroth finally found it in him to take his leave in a hasty march towards the exit, from where Axel had observed the scene impassively. Not turning back once to check behind him, the tall man swung the door open and walked out, promptly disappearing from Cloud's vision line altogether.
Left without a glimpse that his message had been well received, or even received at all, the blond simply stood there, lost to himself and his inner musings once again; to his schemes and plans, to his demanding need to be close to the other man…
"Hello? Strife? Sir?... Cloud??"
Because, regardless of what Sephiroth would have answered to his unfinished question, Cloud most definitely did believe in the possibility of falling in love at first sight.
------0------
Author's Note: Finally!
This one took me longer than expected… however, to make up for the tardiness, this chapter is fairly longer than the previous ones – exactly 6 pages longer and 7000 words in total. I really hope it was worth the wait… (twiddles fingers)
Now, in one of those Oscar-like moments, is when I'd like to thank the many people that have taken it from their time to read and review my work:
To the reviewers, because, if you're a writer you'll know how it feels like, and if you're not, I'll tell you: reviews make you impossibly happy. It makes you want to write the whole story in a night just so that the people replying to your ideas are satisfied. It makes you stay awake thinking of new ideas to surprise the people that is faithfully reading your story and it most certainly makes you want to hug and tell them one by one how much you appreciate the effort it takes to press that purple button down there and write a paragraph worth of praise or rational criticism.
So, to ChibiFrubaGirl, The Glass Slipper, Rabid Behemoth, Soul Writer of Dark Truth, Tala Mitena, Angel-Wings6, Higuchimon and even the flamer that took his time to click on the link and say how bad my story is, Trolly Polly – Thank you. A lot. )
To my Beta, The Glass Slipper. Because you're simply great, need I say more? Thanks for giving up your book to correct my mistakes as soon as you possibly could and for letting me annoy you during classes. And for writing incredible ficlets for me and for being sweet and lovely in general. ;o;
To the readers, because even if you haven't had the time or the will to review, you're still the one that's given this story more than 500 views by now. And that, for me, is already an impressive number.
To the people who'll press the review and "add to favourites" button as soon as their done reading this, because… you'll have my undying love for eternity if you do. And very possibly a new chapter within the next couple of weeks. With Riku/Leon.
And some secrets starting to be unveiled.
And… (drumroll)
The next chapter will have a few Easter Eggs from the story hidden in my profile page.
So please, stay with me a little longer, yes? 3
(This will most certainly be the last A/N of this length…)