The day Geostigma was cured had been full of celebration. Cloud had gotten caught in the torrent of it all. He'd let it carry him through the rest of the day. Aerith's church had turned into something like a splash park for the afternoon. He'd let it happen because, honestly, Aerith probably would have let it happen.

Who was he to stop the kids from laughing? Gods knew how long it must have been since any of them had felt like kids.

There'd been Tifa too. The private smile he'd caught just as everyone was throwing themselves into the healing pool. And then, after that, the laughter and easy grins that sat on her face as Marlene and Denzel played. At Yuffie's antics. At Red's attempts to keep dry. At Barrett's loud, boisterous celebration.

It'd been all he could do, to not stare the whole time.

The day wore into the night, and the celebration eventually split apart, though a decent chunk of it had continued on at Seventh Heaven. To say that Cloud had mixed feelings about returning to the familiar bar was an understatement. Everything was still so raw. But Yuffie wouldn't shut up if he didn't go. Barrett threatened to drag his spiky blond head there himself. But it'd been the looks on Denzel and Marlene's face that eventually convinced him to go, instead of staying in Aerith's church with a flimsy excuse to 'clean up' the watery mess there. He hadn't looked to Tifa then. Hadn't dared to.

Presently, Cloud finds himself leaning over Denzel's bed. Outside, a late night moon hangs in a dark sky. The boy is dressed in his pyjamas as Cloud pulls the covers up. His eyes are half opened, clearly exhausted, but brimming with an energy Cloud had never seen before. The disease has only been gone a few scant hours, but already life is beginning to seep back into the boy's countenance.

Denzel yawns, closes his eyes. "G'night, Cloud," He murmurs, "I'll see you tomorrow morning, right?" Even with closed eyes, there's hope weighing in each word.

Cloud hesitates. Honestly, he doesn't know himself. He's suddenly aware of the hallway light spilling into the room like liquid gold. Mostly, he's aware of the person standing in the doorway, leaning against it, her arms crossed loosely over her chest. So, Cloud nods. "Right."

Denzel smiles.

Pushing off the bed, Cloud glances over at Marlene, who's already nesting in her sheets and watching him with sleepy eyes. He steps over and leans in to adjust her covers too, even though it doesn't need to be adjusted. "Goodnight, Marlene." He murmurs, low and soft.

"Goodnight, Cloud."

He steps away, turns and sees Tifa standing in the doorway. She's watching him, golden light catching in the deep carmine of her gaze. Her expression shrouded by the night. It was only the four of them upstairs. Everyone else is sprawled on borrowed blankets and pillows on the floor of the bar. Cid's already snoring, the sound carrying faintly up the steps. When was the last time the four of them had been together like this? Cloud can't remember.

But the children's bedroom isn't the place to be thinking about that. Tifa steps back and he moves into the hall, closing the door behind him. Now there's only the two of them. He doesn't know what to say - if there's anything he can say. Guilt, that stinking, familiar feeling, wells up in his throat. He knows what he did, how much hurt he'd caused, when he left the three of them without a word.

Now he can see that her eyes are soft. He thinks he doesn't deserve that softness. "Are you really going to stay?" She asks, arms still wrapped around herself, uncertain.

Cloud is tempted to lie, but he doesn't. He can't. He could never, when it came to her. It's why he'd left without saying a word. It's why he never picked up any of her calls - knowing that she would have questions, knowing he couldn't lie to her, knowing that she wouldn't like his answers. He glances off to the side, lowers his gaze, "Tomorrow, at least."

She pauses, then nods. "Okay," She says. He hears her draw a careful breath, the whoosh of it passing through her lips. Sometimes, the mako enhancements that make him so very good at fighting makes it harder to be human in quiet moments like this. He can hear every breath. If he focuses, he can hear heartbeats too. He tries not to focus. He doesn't want to know what they might mean.

"Well, get some rest, yeah?" She concludes, beginning to brush past him to get to her room. She lifts a hand, idly pats his arm on the way past. "Goodnight, Cloud."

"Goodnight, Tifa." He replies, hearing her retreat into her room as he crosses into his own. He shuts the door and flops back onto the bed. It's been a long time since he last laid in this bed. The sheets still smell fresh. He scents sunlight on them, like they had been hung out to dry recently.

His chest aches. He thought that finding forgiveness over Zack and Aerith would finally give him peace. But now that he has it, the loudest thoughts in his head have been silenced. In their wake is something quieter. They whisper and linger and start to fill up the space.

He sighs, lifts his left hand up, fingers outstretched. He stares at his hand, half expecting pain to shoot up its length. Half expecting black ooze to drip down on his face. But nothing happens.

Turning on his side, Cloud closes his eyes.

Everything is quiet. He doesn't know what to do with it.

Cloud stays for longer than tomorrow. He stays for longer than the day after that, too. And after that. After that. After that.

Sometimes, Tifa forgets that he's back. He picked up his delivery service as soon as he got his first call after that day. Things are a little slow to return to normal after Bahamut left a decent chunk of Edge destroyed. But the first time Cloud returns to Seventh Heaven in time for dinner, there'd only been three places set up at the table.

The kids were taking their showers upstairs as Tifa got dinner ready downstairs. She'd started when footsteps drew into the kitchen, ready to whip around and land a solid punch on whoever it was that was threatening her family. But it was only Cloud, dust clinging to blond locks and black ribbed shirt. Ever since he'd been cured of Geostigma, he'd forgone the draping sleeve that had covered up his left arm. It made him look a lot less...foreboding.

"Cloud!" She gasps, before quickling reigning in her surprise. She'd been so wrapped up with the work that went into running the bar and looking after two kids that she'd forgotten about him entirely. Forgotten that he'd left earlier that morning for a job, but with promises that he'd be back for dinner.

Both their eyes drop down to the dining table between them and the three sets of cutlery.

Her heart skips a beat. Tifa sets down the wooden spatula that she'd been holding, laying it across the pot sitting on the stove. "Why don't you get washed up first?" She suggests as casually as she can, "So you don't get dust over the food, huh? Dinner'll be ready in a bit." She tries a smile, hoping to distract him with a tease, but knowing that it was a slim chance.

"Yeah," He replies, looking like he has to wrench his eyes up from the table and across at her. "I'll be quick."

"Sure." She watches as he turns and listens as he climbs up the steps, footsteps even and steady. But she'd seen it - that flicker of hurt in the blue-green of his eyes a moment before he'd turned away.

Tifa hurriedly places a fourth set of cutlery on the table, cursing herself for forgetting. How could she forget? Cloud coming back...It was all she wanted, wasn't it? Those nights spent asleep awkwardly on the couch, waiting for his return, only to wake up to a crimped neck and Cloud's still-empty room. The days calling his phone, knowing he wouldn't pick up. What if he leaves again, because she keeps forgetting?

Later, when everyone is sitting at the dining table, three of the four of them with hair still damp from their shower, Tifa watches more than she eats. She watches Denzel's big grins as he asks Cloud about his day. She watches Marlene swinging her legs happily under the table as she listens to Cloud recount his delivery. She watches Cloud entertaining every one of their questions, but somehow still managing to polish off his food before everyone else.

At one point, as Marlene prattles on about a story in one of her books, she catches Cloud looking at her across the table. Their eyes meet. Despite it all, Tifa feels warm contentment flush her chest and cheeks both, because how could it not? Even after all the fighting, the distance, the silence, the tension...wasn't this simple peace what both of them wanted, all along? She smiles, and catches the corners of his lips quick upwards too.

Tifa promises to never forget again.

Cloud tries to make it in time for dinner as often as he can. But deliveries are growing more frequent, and sometimes they still take him far away. Still, he tries. And when he does manage to make it back for dinner, it's always to four sets of cutlery at the table.

Each time, he would insist on cleaning up after the meal but Tifa would never let him. "You'll have to take this sponge out of my hands first." She'd told him, holding the soapy sponge up as she shot him a look from over by the sink. He'd still sit at the table and keep her company, even if she refused to let him help. "You've been working practically all day and night, you should be resting instead of doing the dishes."

Cloud had his arms crossed on the tabletop, leaning against it and quietly watching her from behind. He always liked watching her. It was amazing how she could make doing the dishes look so graceful. "And you haven't?" He asked, a slight challenge in his voice.

"Apples to oranges, Cloud. It's not the same."

He disagreed.

The next time Cloud makes it back in time for dinner, it's with a plan.

Tifa always takes the spot closest to the sink, threatening to flip him over if he dared wander too close. And she could. Very easily, in fact. Which is why he's never dared to try.

This time, as dinner's beginning to wrap up, Cloud slides a quick glance over to Marlene and Denzel. He'd talked to them before dinner, when the pair had just finished their showers upstairs and Tifa was still busy downstairs. They were both in on the plan now.

Denzel nods slightly, lips pressing into a determined line. His hero is counting on him after all. He didn't want to disappoint. But Marlene can't help a giggle of excitement, which promptly earns her a kick under the table from Denzel.

"Something funny about your peas, Marlene?" Tifa asks curiously, beginning to gather up the empty dishes in the middle of the table. Her movements are automatic, practiced and quick from routine.

"Oh, nothing," Marlene replies in a voice that very clearly has something in it. Tifa glances up with an arch of her brow, but the girl giggles again. "I was just thinking that Cloud really does look like a Chocobo, right? His hair, I mean."

Cloud frowns, but there's not a lick of hurt in his eyes. Instead, they're amused, mako green flecks glimmering with good humour. "No I don't," He counters, looking at Tifa next and lifting a brow of his own. "Do I?"

Meanwhile, Denzel stands up nonchalantly, leaving his dishes at the table. He heads off, stepping over to grab an extra napkin from the stack near the sink. He swipes up the sponge too, as he blows his nose into the napkin. He returns to the table as Tifa laughs.

"Don't you drag me into this," She says, sitting up in her chair. Her hair's grown out since Cloud's return to Seventh Heaven. It's tied back into a ponytail now, sitting high up on the back of her head, the sleek curve of it resting over her shoulder, tips kissing her collar. Despite himself, Cloud finds his eye drawn by the line of the ponytail down. Like everyone else at the table, she's dressed casually, in a plain tank top and shorts. "There's no correct answer here." He blinks, quickly looking back up at her face, relieved to find that she's still too busy stacking dishes to notice.

"Aw, c'mon Tifa! It's just a yes or no." Marlene complains, propping her elbows up on the table as she leans into it. "Please, Tifa?" She says, eyes wide in that way that pretty well instantly demolishes any sort of defences - for Cloud and Tifa both.

Despite compromised defences, nothing escapes sharp carmine eyes. Tifa points to Marlene's elbows. The girl huffs and drops them back down again, earning a satisfied smile from Tifa. "Okay, maybe a little." She says, looking over at Cloud just in time to see Denzel passing the Chocobo-haired man in question a familiar looking sponge. She gasps. "Cloud!"

Marlene finally explodes into laughter. Denzel chuckles along, more subdued but no less amused. Cloud smirks at Tifa, curling a protective fist around the sponge before turning back to her, sponge held up in the air, "Guess I win, right?"

Tifa makes an indignant sort of noise, huffing again in a way that makes his entire heart flutter. So many years together and she still never fails to be the cutest thing he's ever seen. She shoots a glare across at the two kids, "You're both traitors," She says, but even she's struggling to keep the smile off her face. The kids laugh harder. "You especially." She turns to Cloud next, eyes narrowed in a toothless glare.

"Me?" He says innocently.

"You're the worst."

Cloud smiles. "For doing the dishes?" He asks, and thinks that Tifa might actually step over and flip him over anyways. But she doesn't. Instead, she rolls her eyes and sits back into her chair, arms folded across her chest.

"Yes."

This time, Cloud laughs. A low sound, but soft and carefree. Denzel and Marlene both stopped laughing, but are grinning widely. Tifa stares, but Cloud doesn't notice. Denzel and Marlene do. They exchange a look.

Maybe, this time, they'll get to be a family for longer.

The day school starts up again, Cloud just so happens to not have any jobs in the morning.

But Tifa knows better. She doesn't say anything about it though, and pretends to be pleasantly surprised when Cloud informs her of such, over a mug of coffee. It was something of a morning routine for them. Tifa was always up early, to prepare breakfast for everyone, and to get some preparations done for when the bar opens for lunch. Most days, Cloud would join her too, for coffee and breakfast and quiet company before heading off to work.

This morning, he's looking over some maps over coffee, still wearing a plain T-shirt and shorts. His hair is still mussed up in a way that fills Tifa with this curious urge to ruffle it up some more. She likes seeing him like this, freshly rolled out of bed, wearing casual clothing, doing nothing more than sipping coffee. It's a comforting sight.

"...which means I can take the kids to school today." He's saying, freehand tapping over a spot on the map. Tifa blinks out of her thoughts. She's sitting at her usual spot across from him, a similar mug of coffee in her hands. Like him, she's still dressed in her pyjamas - oversized T-shirt, falling past the hems of her shorts, hair pulled into a messy bun atop her head, stray strands tickling her shoulders. Right, he was explaining the deliveries he had that day. Explaining why he had the time for this.

"Tifa?"

She smiles quickly. "Well, if you have the time," She agrees, tilting her head slightly, "It'll be Denzel's first time back in school since the plates fell so…" Her thoughts threaten to swirl with an old, familiar guilt. Tifa draws a breath, straightens up and squares her shoulders. "I'm sure there'll be plenty of paperwork that you'll need to sign for him anyways."

Cloud's eyes are on her. The blue hue of them seemingly looking right past her straightened posture and smile. He's quiet a moment before nodding, "Right," He says, and she's glad he doesn't press. Though, she has a feeling that he knows what she's thinking anyways. He's always had a knack for that. "I'll take care of it, so you can catch a break this morning."

"A break?" She laughs, "I wish! The bar isn't going to run itself, you know." She says in a light tease, before lifting her mug up to take a sip of her coffee.

She watches Cloud's brows furrow, lips quirking downwards ever so slightly. He sets the mug down on the table. "I know, but-" He pauses, glancing away. She can see uncertainty suddenly flickering in his eyes. She wonders if he's going to finish, or if he's going to withdraw into himself again. Her chest aches. If he withdrew, should she say something? Try to draw him out? Maybe she didn't do enough of that last time, and that was when he'd left. But if she did, would she be pushing too hard and scare him off anyways? Quietly, she wonders when she started feeling like she had to tiptoe around him so much.

"...I want to help," He says in a voice so quiet she might have missed it if a car passed outside. He still isn't meeting her gaze, but there's a determined furrow between his brows. His grip on the mug's handle is tight. "Tifa...You deserve a break more than anyone I know, so I want to help make that happen." Finally, he lifts his eyes up to hers again. The look in it snatches her breath away. Resolved but soft, mako green glittering so bright against familiar blue expanse behind them.

"We're a family right? I want to do more to be a part of that." He concludes. He's searching her expression for something.

For a moment, Tifa can only blink at him. And then she laughs, the sound is a little wet, "What? What's this all of a sudden? Of course we're a family," She says, but feels relief pump through her again. Because it's the first time that he's said as much. Because it's the closest he's come to saying that he wants to stay. For real. For good. "You've always been a part of that, Cloud. I mean, just ask Denzel or Marlene."

Before anything more could be said, Cloud blinks and looks upwards. "They're up." He tells her simply, even though she can't hear a thing. Sometimes, she forgets that he's still got all that mako enhancements in him.

She quirks a smile, "Time to mosey then." She says, then stands to start prepping breakfast. This time, Cloud stands too, and helps her make some jam toasts while she scrambles eggs.

They don't fight monsters together anymore. But she still reads his movements as easily as he reads hers. Breakfast is done up and ready faster than Denzel and Marlene can come bouncing the steps.

It takes some time to get the kids ready. Marlene is ready first, and is sitting by the bar's counter and chatting with Tifa while they wait for Denzel. She's in a pretty pink blouse, and white capri pants, along with teal sneakers and a brand new teal backpack - courtesy of Cloud. "We're gonna' be late." She whines, arms stretched out on the countertop as her chin rests on top of it. "What's taking them so long?"

"Denzel's just nervous. He needs a little more time to make sure he's ready to go," Tifa explains gently. She's sitting at the bar too, a worn notebook in front of her, a pen twirling spectacularly through her fingers - back and forth, swerving in and around lithe fingers. She's changed out of her pyjamas, and is dressed in her usual outfit now, white tank top under a black vest, black shorts and a half skirt behind her.

Footsteps could be heard coming down the steps. Marlene immediately perks, smiling widely when she sees Denzel step out in plain jeans and a grey button-up short sleeve shirt. He's gripping onto the straps of his backpack, looking nervous, as Cloud trails after him.

"Ready to go, Marlene?" Cloud asks as he and Denzel draw up to the bar. He's already changed out of his at-home clothes, and is back to wearing his usual, black ribbed tank top, pauldron and all.

"Yes! Let's go!" Marlene chirps in response, hopping off the bar stool, braided pigtails flopping against her chest. She rushes over to them with a giggle, "Denzel, you look good. School's gonna' be great, you'll see."

"Hang on, you two," Tifa says, amused. Setting down her pen, she turns and slips off the stool, joining the kids over in the middle of the bar. Reaching up, she places her hands on Marlene's shoulders first, then bends to kiss her cheek. "Have a great day at school," She says, "Be good."

Marlene smiles even wider, "I will!"

Tifa turns to Denzel next, fixes his collar, and then kisses his cheek too. "You've got nothing to worry about. Just try and have fun, yeah?"

Denzel hesitates, but manages a nod. "Okay." He says, giving Tifa a small smile. Still nervous, but she can see that it's a good kind of nervous.

She straightens up, turning a smile of her own up at Cloud, who had been quietly watching everything. "Okay, now you can go." She says with a chuckle.

"But Tifa!" Marlene pipes up, "Cloud didn't get a cheek kiss!"

Tifa blinks. "Huh?" She looks back at the two kids. Marlene is tapping at her cheek pointedly. Denzel only shrugs. She feels her face start to flush with heat. The thought hadn't even occurred to her until then.

Cloud clears his throat a bit. "It's okay, let's go before we're late, Marlene." He says, attempting to salvage the situation. He looks at her. She thinks she can see a little colour on the tips of his ears, and dusting his cheeks...which do, in fact, look perfectly kiss worthy. "I'll be back for dinner."

Marlene grabs her hand and tugs, "Tifa, it wouldn't be fair!" She protests.

"M-Marlene-"

"She's not wrong," Denzel speaks up with a sage little nod, "You gave me one too."

"You too, Denzel?!" At this point, it's all so ridiculous that Tifa can't help but laugh. Marlene tugs again, so she gives, "Okay, okay, I don't want to make you all late." She says, before turning to Cloud, who's looking off to the side - not that she can blame him. Tifa hesitates, not entirely sure...how she should do this.

She steps up closer, Marlene still holding onto one of her hands. Reaching up, she pinches a bit of his shirt and tugs lightly on it. Heat is crawling all up her neck, but she does her best to ignore it. Instead, she gives him a smile, "Um, could you-?"

Cloud looks at her. There's a moment where she thinks she sees his eyes widen. But he's already looking away before she can confirm it. He leans down a bit closer, so he's more at her eye level.

Tifa plants a kiss right on his cheek.

He smells like leather, and sunshine, a bit like Fenrir's motor oil, and a bit like coffee. His skin is warm, a bit stubbly against her lips. She didn't mean to linger, but maybe stays a half second too long before she catches herself and pulls back. "Have a good day too, Cloud." She says, the edges of her words a little softer, because he's still very close and honestly she just wants to nuzzle into his pink cheek and kiss him some more.

Cloud nods, but doesn't straighten up yet. Instead, he turns and presses a quick kiss to her own cheek. Tifa's eyes fly wide. "You too." He says, voice all low and the very faintest bit rumbly, while Marlene giggles and Denzel smiles. Cloud straightens up quickly after that.

"Now we can go." The little girl declares, throwing her arms around Tifa in a quick hug. "Bye Tifa!" She says. She pulls back, then skips over to the front door.

"...B-Bye." Tifa says, watching the group of them head out.

We're a family right? I want to do more to be part of that. She thinks that 'for good' and 'for real' are words she can start to believe in now.

That day, he'd seen Aerith in the church through a sliver of calm amidst the celebration. Zack had been there too, with a wave and a smile like: Let yourself live already. It'd been the most relieved he'd felt in a long time - more palpable than when he'd killed Sephiroth for the second time.

This day, a different kind of guilt gnaws at his heart. One that hasn't shown itself, really, since the first night of his return. It's always been there, of course, but he'd always found ways to ignore it. Between getting his delivery service back up and running, and settling back in with his family here, he'd been too busy to let it do more than lay latent in his mind.

Now, it's chewing on him.

It'd caught him entirely off-guard. So much so that, for a moment, he'd felt like someone had slammed a sword into his gut - a sensation that, by now, he was all too familiar with. He had made it back in time for dinner earlier that evening. It'd been a normal enough sort of dinner. Denzel and Marlene had been telling Tifa and himself about their day. Denzel had been assigned a project to draw up a poster about an interesting locale, and had asked for suggestions, knowing that both Cloud and Tifa were fairly well traveled people.

"How about Costa del Sol?" Tifa had suggested thoughtfully, "It's a really nice beach. I'm sure there's lots you can talk about."

Denzel and Marlene both had lit up at the mention of a beach. "Like by an ocean?" Denzel had asked with wide eyes, "And a beach like...with sand?"

Cloud had watched Tifa blink a little in surprise, before her expression softened, "Yes, like a beach with sand by an ocean," She'd glanced up across at him with a complicated smile. He knew why. The town had been so nice. But it'd been in the middle of the whole Meteor mess. They'd been stowaways, looking for Professor Hojo, to question that vile man about Sephiroth. Their objective had made it a little difficult to really enjoy Costa del Sol. "We went there together, remember?"

Seeing two curious gazes immediately flicker over to him, Cloud had nodded, "A long time ago."

"Is it far?" Marlene had asked. There was no mistaking the hopeful lilt in her voice. "Can we go?"

"Marlene, of course we can't," Denzel had huffed, "Cloud and Tifa are super busy, remember? Who would take care of the bar? Or do all those deliveries?"

Something had flickered across Tifa's expression at that. Sadness? Hurt? Regret? Cloud couldn't be sure, it'd been so quick. "Well, maybe! Don't write us off yet, Denzel," She'd said, "We can always plan ahead. Maybe next year, we can go. Right, Cloud?" She'd looked to him then in a silent request for back-up.

Next year? Cloud hadn't thought that far ahead, honestly. He was still trying to live from day to day, week to week at most. Thinking farther than that...was terrifying. What if something else threatened the world? What if Sephiroth came back again? Or another disease? Another monster?

He swallowed. "Right." But nothing escaped sharp carmine eyes. He saw something flicker in them. Again, too quick for him to parse.

"...You promise?" Denzel asked suddenly, in a small voice. He was looking down at his food. "A whole year is a long time." He added. Cloud had looked at him, feeling like the wind had been knocked out his chest. Because even he could hear it, the words the boy didn't dare to utter. Will you be here in a year?

Tifa had swooped in to save the meal. "Exactly. It'll give us both plenty of time to prepare, so we can take a nice trip to the beach." She'd said, reaching over to give Denzel's shoulder a squeeze. "You'll see. Just be patient, okay?"

Meanwhile, Cloud was all too aware of Marlene's eyes on him.

"Scrub any harder and you'll turn that plate to dust." A voice jumps him out of his thoughts. Cloud pauses, looking up to see Tifa leaning against the counter beside the sink. She's a couple paces away, back pressed against the countertop, a glass of water in her hands. Her hair is damp, sweeping over her back. She's wearing her pyjamas - another oversized T-shirt and barely visible shorts that make her legs look so very long, and makes him want to run his hands over their length.

"...Wanted to make sure it was clean." He says, turning away to set the soapy dish aside, along with its other soapy companions. He picks up another dirty plate, and soaps that up next. "I thought you had bar stuff to do?"

Tifa hums. "Yeah," She says at first, before sipping her water. He hears her draw a slow breath. It's a careful inhale. Measured, and wary. His chest is already tightening. "Denzel got to you, didn't he?" She asks, and he nearly winces.

Cloud doesn't reply, because he doesn't know how. He soaps up another dish before he accidentally breaks the one in his hands. Sometimes he forgets his strength. Sometimes he breaks things he doesn't mean to. In his hands right now, the dishes feel extra fragile.

"Cloud…" There she is again, sounding so concerned. So worried about him. Because all he ever does is worry her. And can he even blame her for it? When he keeps giving her reasons to worry? His mind is swirling. But he feels her hand on his arm, and that all grinds to a stop. He draws a sharp breath and tenses.

Tifa notices - because of course she does - and pulls away. "I-I'm sorry." Her apology makes that guilt bite down on his heart, jagged teeth digging into him.

"Gods-" He sighs, sharper than he intended. He can practically feel Tifa stiffen, even if she's a few feet off to his side. "Don't apologize, Tifa. Please."

She doesn't say anything. He can feel her eyes on him, watching his expression, like she expects him to run away again. Like Denzel does. And Marlene.

His fist clenches around the sponge, thick, white suds seeping through the cracks on his fingers. His mouth is dry, eyes locked on the pile of dirty dishes in front of him. "Denzel...all of you have every right to think that way. I...I gave you all a perfectly good reason to." He'd left, without saying a word. Without telling them anything. Without even picking up their calls - Tifa's calls - just so they could know that he was okay. He'd been so busy drowning in himself that he hadn't realized how much he'd hurt them.

"Cloud…" Tifa is trying again. She reaches out again, her hand on his arm. This time, he's already tense. Her touch is warm, but hesitant. At least she doesn't pull away. "It's okay."

He shakes his head, forces his grip on the sponge to relax. "No, it's not," He says, reaching over to flip on the tap, beginning to rinse off the dishes, just so he can do something with his hands. "It's been...how long now? Two months? Three? I still haven't...Haven't even…" He trails off, gritting his teeth. Guilt takes another bite, tears another piece of him off.

But Tifa is patient. She stays at his side. "Haven't…?" A gentle urge.

He sighs. "Haven't even apologized. To Denzel. Marlene." He pauses, finally turns to look at her, forces himself to meet her gaze. The concern that he sees there tears him up some more. He doesn't deserve that. "To you." He finishes finally, voice faltering a bit.

Her eyes are a little wide as they meet his. She'd set her glass of water down and he hadn't even noticed. "You don't have to apologize." She tells him.

"I hurt my own family, Tifa. I hurt you. I should've apologized yesterday. I should've apologized months ago. Hell, I should've apologized the first night after everything." He pauses, reaches a hand up to clasp over the one she had resting on his arm. He doesn't think that his hands are wet, that he's getting soapy water over them. "So don't tell me that I don't have to apologize. Not unless you can tell me that I didn't hurt you. That I didn't fail you."

He hears the tremble in her breath as she inhales next. The tap is still running. If it wasn't for that, he could probably hear her heart beat too. The kitchen is dark, save for the orange glow of the lamp by the table. She's looking up at him. He can see her perfectly clearly, could see the way that orange light caresses her cheek in the way he wished he could. Could see the glimmer of them in her eyes grow a little brighter. Her hand curls tighter into his arm. Her eyes dart off to the side.

"I...can't." She admits finally. She isn't looking at him. As much as her confession hurts to hear, it brings some degree of relief. Just to have it out in the open now, so he can actually do something about it. She draws another breath. "You hurt me. You hurt Denzel and Marlene too." She shakes her head, finally drags her eyes back up to his. "But that doesn't mean you failed us, Cloud. You still came back, didn't you? You're still here, aren't you?"

Even now, she is trying to comfort him.

He grits his teeth, finally turns to face her completely. Cloud pulls his arm away, only so he can reach up and - before he can doubt himself and overthink it - wraps his arms around her. One around her shoulders, the other gripping the back of her head, tugging her in against his collar. He hears her inhale sharply in surprise as she tips into him.

"Tifa, let me apologize." He's halfway begging her. If he had to, he'd get down on his knees. He'd do it in a heartbeat. He tucks his head beside hers. She smells like lilacs, and mahogany, and home.

"Cloud-" She begins to say, but stops when he squeezes her tighter. She'd been about to refuse, he recognized it in the way she spoke his name.

"Please, Tifa." He repeats softer, speaking into her hair. He needs her to agree. Needs her to actually hear him.

She pauses, then finally, he feels her lean in oh-so-slightly against him. Against his collar, he feels her nod.

Cloud swallows thickly. He doesn't actually know how to say it. Or what to say. He only knows that he needs to apologize - that it's been a long time coming already. "I'm sorry, Tifa," He begins, closing his eyes. His chest is aching. The feeling is familiar. He presses on. "I'm sorry I left. I'm sorry I hurt you. You needed me and I wasn't there, I'm sorry."

He's only wearing a plain T-shirt. He feels a wet heat soak into the fabric at his collar. He hears Tifa's breathing as much as he feels it beneath his hands. It shudders in and out. But despite everything, he takes comfort in their uneven cadence. Takes comfort in her warmth right here. The fact that she wasn't pulling away. He doesn't know what else to say, so he clutches her tighter.

Slowly, he feels her shift. Cloud stiffens, ready to let go at the slightest resistance. But that doesn't come. Instead, he feels her arms lift...and then they're looping around his ribs, hands grabbing onto his shirt behind his shoulders.

"I forgive you, Cloud." The words are smothered against his collar. But he hears them. He feels them, in the faint wash of her breath when she utters them.

He thinks he might sob with relief. Instead, he holds her closer, silently promising that if he went anywhere, it'd only be in one direction. Towards her.

They exchange cheek kisses every morning, even when the kids aren't around to police the 'fairness' of Tifa's cheek kisses. It becomes almost mundane. He'd find her wherever she was - in the kitchen, at the bar, upstairs - and tell her that he's heading off. She'd hum, he'd dip down, she'd peck his cheek, he'd do the same to hers, and then they'd go their separate ways.

He starts calling her in the middle of the day. Usually, it's to say that he's going to be late, or that he's actually going to be back in time for dinner. Sometimes, it's to ask if she needs anything from Kalm, or if there's anything he can grab on the way home.

On the way home. Tifa always feels her chest warm whenever she hears Cloud speak those words.

So when Cloud says he's going to be back for dinner, Tifa worries when he doesn't show up. Denzel and Marlene exchange glances over dinner. Between them is an empty place at the table. "...Should we wait for Cloud, Tifa?" Marlene asks, looking uncertainly back at her.

Tifa sets down her phone. Cloud hadn't picked up. She smiles, "No, it's okay. Let's eat before everything gets cold, yeah?"

"Did he say he was gonna' eat with us tonight?" Denzel asks, hesitating before he picks up a spoonful of omurice. There's a happy face scrawled in ketchup over the fluffy, yellow egg mound. Marlene's features a heart. Tifa's is a cat's face with long whiskers. And Cloud's...well, it has a cloud, but one with a happy face inside of it (as per Marlene's suggestion).

"Yes, but he probably just got caught up somewhere," Tifa says with a reassuring smile, even as she feels worry bubble up in her chest. "C'mon, both of you still have homework to do after this."

The kids exchange a glance, but tuck into their food anyways. Tifa makes an extra effort to engage them both in conversation.

Later, once the kids are done their homework and tucked into bed, Tifa returns downstairs. She had covered up Cloud's plate with a bowl, careful to not smear the ketchup design. It's still dark and quiet. Cloud's still nowhere to be found, and he hasn't called either. Tifa slips into the bar, makes herself up a drink, then settles at a stool by the bar. She spends the rest of the night going through the books, carefully counting out the flow of money going in and out of Seventh Heaven. On the counter, beside her drink, her phone sits in silence.

When she finishes, it's midnight, and everything is still dark and quiet. Sighing, she packs up and cleans up. Tifa wanders over to the windows by the front doors and peeks outside. Dim, orange lights fill the streets. She sees headlights approaching and holds her breath, but it's only a passing car.

She's being ridiculous.

Sighing, Tifa turns away. Her legs carry her over towards the couch of the living hall before she realizes it. She pauses at the couch. It's tucked away behind the bar. But here, she could hear if anyone came in through the front doors, or if anyone moved up the stairs. It's a small space, just beside the kitchen and dining hall. Denzel's video game console is sprawled on the coffee table, with two controllers set down beside it. Tifa tidies up a little, before turning on the TV.

She settles on some travel documentary in Wutai. Tifa stretches out on the couch, turning on her side and tucking an arm beneath her head. It's a familiar position. Her eyes stare at the screen without seeing anything. The volume is a low murmur, only the dining room light is on.

Without noticing it, Tifa drifts off to sleep while a starlit night fills the screen.

Tifa starts awake when something touches her shoulder. Her body moves before her mind catches up. Her fist flies up, sharp and strong, but something catches it and stops her hand before her knuckles make impact. Carmine eyes fly open and instantly meet the sky.

"Cloud?" She rasps, voice thick with sleep. He's leaned over her, mud staining his cheek. His hair is a bit damp, his clothes drenched. He smells like rain.

"Is that how you always wake up?" He asks with a faint, dry smile.

"You're late." She replies. He's still holding the wrist of her one hand, so she reaches the other to rub her eye.

"You're sleepy," He counters swiftly, watching her a moment before he lets go of her wrist. "I was going to carry you to bed but you tried to punch me."

"Mmm," There isn't a lick of remorse in her voice. There was no question that Mr. Cloud Strife, the planet saving founder of Strife Delivery Service, could block a punch. She smiles slightly instead, pushing herself up as he leans back. It's the first time he's found her on the couch, actually. Behind him, the TV is playing an ad for the latest model of a car. "Have you eaten?" She asks instead, ignoring the pointed look he turns her way.

"Tifa, don't worry about me. You should go to sleep." He's watching her as she shifts her legs over the edge of the couch.

"Yes, and you should eat." She's being difficult, and she knows it. But she can't help herself. She wants to stay in this moment longer. This moment where Cloud actually does come back and finds her on the couch and wakes her up, instead of the one where she wakes up in the morning with a sore neck. She tilts her chin up at him with a stubborn set of her lips.

Cloud holds her gaze for a long moment. Then, he gives and sighs. "I can eat while you sleep, you know." He says, but he steps around the couch nonetheless, reaching up to undo the pauldron from where it's attached to his shoulder.

Tifa smiles in victory. She turns off the TV and stands up. "I know you can." She replies, rounding the couch to follow him into the kitchen and dining area. She goes and pours herself some water while Cloud sets his pauldon down on the table. "Marlene chose the design today." She informs him, as she hears him pick up the bowl covering his plate.

She hears his chuckle and it warms her right to her toes. "Very creative." He says, setting the bowl aside. The dining chair scrapes against the floor as he pulls it back, and then he's sitting - more like collapsing - in it.

Tifa wants to ask why he isn't going to warm it up in the microwave first, but he looks tired and hungry, so she decides to not get in the way between him and his meal. Instead, she wanders over and picks a seat. This time, she opts for the spot beside him rather than across.

Cloud's already digging in. She sips her water. "Did something happen?" She asks casually. She isn't upset that he disappeared for the day. Just curious.

He hums, "Someone messed up their delivery address, so I had to bounce around a couple places," He explains between mouthfuls of food. There's mud on his arms too. He kind of reeks, if she's honest. "And then the sky tries to drown me while a pack of Kalm Fangs try to eat me." He says it so deadpan that she can't help but snort in amusement. He looks up at her, eyes glittering in good humour.

"Something funny?"

She shakes her head. "No, sorry," She says, but they both know she isn't sorry. "Sounds like you've had quite the day."

"Yeah." He picks up a spoonful of the omurice. "...And I stink." He says, scrunching his nose up slightly. Tifa watches, and feels the urge to kiss his nose.

Instead, she fights to keep her expression straight. "I didn't say it."

He glances at her, "You thought it." He pops the bite in his mouth.

She laughs, and he smiles, eyes on her. "I thought SOLDIERs can't read minds?"

"Yet. I said not yet."

They lapse into a comfortable silence. She sips her water slowly, soaking in the moment as much as she can. Who knows when they'll next be able to do this?

Cloud is the first to break the silence, just as he's finishing up his meal. "...Did the kids say anything?" He asks. Tifa looks up at him, but his eyes are on his plate. He's trying to sound casual, but she can tell that he's worried. Worried that he'd hurt them again, because he'd been too late for dinner, and because he'd missed her calls.

"They're fine, Cloud," She tells him, wanting to soothe the worried crease on his forehead, "They'll be happy to see you tomorrow."

He nods, but otherwise remains silent. Once he finishes, he stands and begins to take his plate over to the sink. Tifa hops up onto her feet and reaches out to take his wrist. Immediately, Cloud stops.

"Let me," She insists, "You stink, remember? You need to shower and then rest." She adds quickly, when she sees that he's about to protest.

Cloud considers her words a moment, then relents. "Just this once." He says, letting her step up in front of him to take the dishes out of his hands.

She hums, "Just this once." She repeats in agreement. She moves to turn away with the dishes in hand, but pauses when Cloud reaches up to take a hold of her shoulder. It's a gentle grab, but a surprise nonetheless. "Hm?" She looks up at him. Suddenly, he feels much closer than before. The lamp behind him casts an orange silhouette over his form. But even in the shadows, his eyes are bright - almost glowing.

"Thanks, Tifa." He says. The softness in his voice makes her breath catch. They both know he heard it.

Heat's starting to crawl up her neck. She huffs, "It's just dinner. Nothing more than usual."

"Then thanks for waiting up for me." He says, reaching one gloved hand up. Her eyes widen as he traces a finger lightly over the side of her head. She doesn't know it, but there's a fading red mark there, from where she'd been sleeping awkwardly against her arm.

She bites her lower lip, feels her heart rate kick up a notch. "Don't...Don't mention it," She mumbles, trying her best to not get flustered. The air is thick, charged with something that makes her stomach twist pleasantly. They'd been close before, yes, but this was different. She glances aside a moment, then looks back up at him. He's staring intently down at her. She can see the mako rimming his pupils swirl. "Th-Thanks for coming back." She breathes.

"Mm," He dips in closer. She feels his fingers trail slowly, carefully, over her cheek...past her ear, cradling the side of her face, fingers in her hair. He smells of rain and asphalt. Leather and earth. She changes her mind - he doesn't reek at all. Her eyes drop halfway shut. He's so close. She can feel warmth radiating off him. Was it a mako thing? To be this warm? Or was she imagining things?

It isn't until she feels his breath skirting her lips that she realizes how badly she wants this. The cheek kisses they'd shared until now had been sweet and warm but so very...chaste. Like the barest possible taste of what was possible. Now that he was right here, holding her head like this, his breath so close, his presence and scent and everything filling her head and stuffing it with cotton - Gods, she's aching. How long has it been since she'd been close with anybody? Too long. The last time...was with him, come to think of it. That clumsy night under the Highwind, where everything was a desperate last grab at feeling alive before an unknown future…

But this one is different. This one is a quiet night in their home. This one is knowing everyone they love is safe and sound. This one is them already living.

Her breath snags in her throat. Her eyes fall shut. She can practically feel him right there and then…

"...Tifa…" Her name skirts her lips. She grips tighter on the dishes, hardly caring about the very real possibility of breaking it. Gods, she's going to kill him. If he pulls away now, she's going to kill him. But Cloud is Cloud and of course now is the time he hesitates. "Is it-? Is this-?"

Tifa nearly drops the dishes as she moves a hand up, grabbing a fistful of his collar. She hears his breath catch this time, hears the surprise in them. She pulls and then he's there.

She melts. Feels him do the same. He tastes faintly like ketchup and rain. She grips his collar tighter. His hand slides up to hold the back of her head fully. His lips press and shift against hers. So soft and so careful that she gives way completely beneath it.

He tastes her lips and she parts them for him. He tilts his head. She feels him press in, and he tastes better still - hot, and firm, and inquisitive, and Gods-

Cloud pulls back. She gasps, opening her eyes to see that his are still closed. Furrowed concentration sits between his brows. His forehead very, very gently taps hers. "Tifa-" He says, like it takes so much attention just to speak her name. A shiver races up her spine. There's something in the way her name slips from his lips that makes her skin prickle. She's tempted to pull him back in, but pauses when she feels his other hand move up to grip her arm.

"You'll turn that plate to dust."

She blinks, pulling back and looking down to see a crack in the porcelain she's holding, between her fingers where her knuckles are pale with pressure. She relaxes her grip. "O-Oh." She looks up again, and finds herself staring at a star speckled sky.

He chuckles, sliding his hand away from her head and out from beneath her hair. "Anyways...something about me stinking?" He says, voice a little lower - a little breathier - than before.

She's disappointed to see the moment go, but it is late, and he needs to rest sooner rather than later. She manages a nod. "Right," She says, taking a careful breath. Her heart is thudding. She tries to calm its pace. "Goodnight, Cloud."

"Goodnight, Tifa." He says, but doesn't step away just yet. He hesitates, then dips in again and leaves a lingering kiss on her forehead. "Thanks again." He adds, and then he's stepping back, picking up his pauldron, and quitting the room.

Tifa stares after him for a long moment. Remembering the dishes in her hands, she looks down and wonders if she ought to keep the cracked plate. She turns to step over towards the sink. Her tongue sweeps over her bottom lip. They're still tingling.

Maybe she doesn't mind waiting for him on the couch so much anymore.

That night, Cloud isn't surprised to find that sleep is hard to come by. By time he'd washed the day's stink off his skin, everything was already quiet. Stepping out of the bathroom, his eyes had drifted down the hall to Tifa's room. The door was closed. He'd hesitated like a fool, before finally retreating into his room...where he finds himself now, laying back on his bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering what had come over him.

He closes his eyes, tries to will sleep to come and get him. His limbs are tired, but all he can see is red, and dark hair, and pillowy lips. He'd only wanted to point out the red mark on her cheek at first. But then she'd bit her lip, and mumbled something in a way that made something in his chest flip, and then he was suddenly so aware of the quiet, and the closeness, and the warmth. Her heart had been thudding away, quicker with each moment.

He closes his eyes harder, remembers the way she'd grabbed his collar and all but yanked him in. And then...And then-!

His eyes open again. Sleep isn't coming tonight, is it? He rolls onto his side, back to the wall, staring quietly at the door. It'd been the quiet crack of porcelain that pulled him out of his stupor. A smile plays at his lips. She'd nearly broken the plate. They kiss and she nearly crushes the plate.

A stray question saunters by. Would she grip him like that, too?

Heat flares in his chest. Cloud rolls back onto his back, slams his eyes shut. No. He has to sleep, damn it. There's work to be done tomorrow. Early tomorrow morning. Gods, it was technically already tomorrow. He takes a deep breath, holding it, and listening.

With everything silent, he can hear it - the very, very faint sound of breaths. Slow and even. He counts two at first. He hears Marlene mumble something. Denzel snores quietly. Cloud exhales slowly, letting the breath empty him out. He listens harder, straining the limits of his hearing. Another breath, a little further away - a familiar cadence, careful ins and outs.

Cloud focuses on this instead. The sound of life. The sound of his family living. He counts each one of them, lets it slowly carry him off to sleep.

When he opens his eyes again, it's to his phone just barely starting to go off on his bedside table. He picks it up, shuts off the alarm, and immediately hears Tifa in the kitchen below. The kids are still sleeping. It's still early.

He gets up with a sigh, and gets ready for the day.

By time Cloud is dressed and making his way down the steps, he still doesn't know what the hell he's supposed to do around Tifa now. He still doesn't know - and is still fretting - by time he rounds the corner and wanders into the kitchen. There's already two steaming mugs of coffee on the table. Tifa's spreading butter on toast. She's still in her sleepwear, her back to him. His eyes drift down long legs, before darting right back up when she shifts.

"Morning, Cloud." She greets in a yawn. He realizes he wants to hug her, nuzzle her neck, kiss the sleep off her skin.

"Morning." He says instead, falling into routine as he takes up his seat and coffee. He unfurls his map on the table to chart out a route, because he'd gotten back too late last night to do it.

There's a pulse of silence. But this one is...a little awkward.

"How's it looking today?" Tifa asks conversationally, turning and setting a plate down in front of him. She moves over and sits beside him. He glances up at her, watching as she crosses her legs on the chair, and sets down her own plate of buttered toast. It takes more effort than usual to tear his eyes away - which, knowing the usual, is really saying something.

The map. The map is a nice, safe place to look. "Uh-" He frowns, "Fine. Just a lot of small stops, but not too far." He says, picking up his coffee and taking a sip from it.

"Dinner?"

"Probably not, but I shouldn't be as late as last night." A little pulse in his chest. There's a beat of silence at the mention of last night. Cloud isn't sure if he regrets bringing it up. What is she thinking? So far, they've been acting like normal. Everything so mundane that he almost isn't sure if last night even happened. He hazards a glance upwards and immediately feels something twist in his gut. Tifa isn't even looking at him, but she sweeping up crumbs off her lips with her tongue. He can't - Gods - he can't look away.

"I'll save a plate for you then." She replies. It's a perfectly mundane thing to say. She's looking at him now, and it takes practically every ounce of willpower to wrench his eyes away.

"...Thanks." He manages. To distract himself, he takes a bigger-than-necessary bite of toast.

She hums, continues to nibble on her own breakfast. "I threw it out, you know." She begins, earning a brief glance from Cloud before he yanks his eyes away again.

"Threw what out?" He asks, then kicks himself, because he already knows the answer. Gods, one stupid kiss and now it's like he's back in Nibelheim and doesn't know how to talk to Tifa Lockhart. It wasn't even like it was their first. Sure, the last time had been under special circumstances...and a lot had happened since then, but...but still. He was an adult now. A proper one. He'd been one for a long time now. So why is he still so damn stupid?

Tifa, in her infinite patience, laughs. "The plate from last night," She replies, then leans into the table, tilting her head, ducking it a bit, trying to get within his line of sight while his eyes are stubbornly glued to the map. "Did you forget?" There's a teasing lilt to the question but something else that snags on his heart too. He's suddenly well aware that there is definitely a wrong answer here.

So he forces himself to look up and meet her eyes. "Of course not." He says, surprising even himself at the conviction in his tone.

She blinks, surprised as well. But Tifa smiles quickly and straightens up. "Yeah? Good." She says, a little softer, before taking a sip of her coffee.

Cloud looks away again. "Probably for the best. Could be dangerous if it breaks when someone's using it," He says, "I can pick up a replacement."

There's a pause before she chuckles, "What? We have a hundred of them, Cloud. It's fine. Did you forget? We're running a bar here, there's more dishes than we know what to do with."

We. It makes his chest warm. "You mean you're running a bar. I'm just the delivery guy." He looks up in time to see her roll her eyes, a smile tugging at her lips. He can't help but smile too, which quickly turns into a chuckle when she shoves his arm.

"Don't be smart with me, Strife."

"Yes ma'am."

They lapse into comfortable silence.

Pretty soon, he's finished with breakfast and folding up his map. Tifa's taking their empty dishes over to the sink. The kids will be up soon, but he has to get going. Standing, Cloud tucks his chair back in carefully, and is suddenly aware of a shift in the atmosphere. This is usually the part where he bids her goodbye for the day and they exchange some cheek kisses but…

"Gotta' run." He says, feet carrying him over to the sink before he's decided what the hell he's going to do.

"Mm," Tifa hums, pausing with soapy hands lowered into the sink. She looks up at him out of the corner of her eye. So far, everything is the same. But he can see it - the curious glimmer in her eye. But she doesn't push. He can't help but wonder if she's afraid, somehow. Even if she'd forgiven him for...everything, was some part of her still afraid that she would drive him away again? "Have a good day."

Cloud hesitates. He doesn't want her afraid. He's already promised that there's only one direction that he wants to go in now. It feels a little like the moment's on him to make good on that silent promise.

So he leans in further than usual. So he reaches up with one gloved hand, fingers finding her opposite jaw, thumb on her chin. He hears her breath catch - again, like the night before. He coaxes her to turn. There isn't an ounce of resistance. He sees her eyes slip shut a moment before his follow suit.

This time, she tastes like sweet butter and smoky coffee.

He kisses her gently, relishing in the last little bits of sleep still clinging to her. A moment later, he pulls back just enough to break the kiss. "...You too." He says, letting the words linger on her lips. It takes another moment for Cloud to pull himself together enough to let go. But he does eventually, dropping his hand away - but not without one, last, little caress of her cheek. He wishes he wasn't wearing gloves. Wishes he can actually feel her skin against his fingertips.

But there's no time. So he steps back. Her eyes are still locked with his. "B-Bye." She manages with a smile so shy that he almost decides to scoop her up and call it a day off.

Instead, he nods. "Bye." With that, Cloud turns and forces his legs to move before he really changes his mind.

Cloud returns to Seventh Heaven just as Denzel and Marlene are done brushing their teeth. He hears Tifa corralling them into bed. Denzel yawns while Marlene is still a bright ball of energy, but he knows she will crash as soon as her head finds the pillow. For now, he stands at the bottom of the stairs and relishes in the sound of the chaos upstairs. Sometimes he can hardly believe that things have settled in this way. Sometimes he can hardly believe that he's really living, now.

He climbs up the stairs and is immediately tackled when he arrives at the top of it. He grabs the banister, managing to not topple back down the stairs as Marlene throws herself at him. Denzel is more reserved, standing in the doorway of their shared room, but grinning all the same.

"Welcome back!" Marlene declares against his shirt, over all the straps that criss-cross over his torso.

He pats her head, "Thanks, Marlene."

Tifa smiles at the sight, her insides melting. Because it's been a long time coming and didn't they deserve this simple happiness? Cloud, Marlene, Denzel...herself? She crosses her arms over her chest, watching as Cloud tries to shuffle forward with Marlene still clinging onto him. It's awkward and clumsy and adorable.

He looks up and their eyes meet. Tifa feels something in her chest flutter. Cloud notices that they're all in pyjamas. The simple sight makes his chest warm again.

"I think you're on bedtime duty tonight." Tifa informs him, prompting Marlene to nod against his stomach.

"Yes ma'am." He replies simply. They exchange a smile. Marlene and Denzel exchange a look.

"It's my turn to pick the story tonight." Denzel pipes up, backing into the low lit bedroom and Cloud half-shuffles, half-waddles in with Marlene still hugging him.

Marlene groans. "It's gonna' be so boring."

"Easier for you to sleep then." Cloud says, finally stopping so he can lean down and scoop up the young girl. She's getting bigger by the day, but he still doesn't have trouble picking her up. Marlene squeals in delight, then breaks into a peal of giggles as she's tossed onto her bed.

Tifa watches this all from the doorway, thinking that she can't remember the last time she's this happy. "Alright you two," She says as Marlene sits up and Denzel fetches the book he wants to have read from the shelf. "Goodnight."

After a chorus of 'goodnight', Tifa turns and heads downstairs. She's already saved a plate of dinner - baked chicken, rice, and roasted veggies - for Cloud. It's on the dining table, where she decides to crack open her inventory book and catches up on some work for the bar. It's quiet upstairs for a while, until she hears the shower run. She waits a little, before popping the plate of food into the microwave to heat while she fixes herself some tea.

By time Cloud comes downstairs, his meal is already hot and waiting. Tifa's flipping through her notebook, tea in one hand, pen twirling between fingers of the other. He yawns as he draws up, taking a seat as Tifa looks up. "They kept you there a while."

"Weren't sleepy apparently." He replies, picking up the cutlery to start digging into the meal. He notices that it's already hot and is extra thankful.

"Liars. They're out in five minutes when it's me on duty," She chuckles, watching him eat a moment before turning back to the work in front of her. "They probably just miss you." She adds gently, not because she's trying to guilt him or anything like that, but just because she wants to remind him that he's wanted.

Cloud pauses a moment in thought. "I should be back for dinner tomorrow." He says, thinking that he can shuffle some things around to make it work. Looking up, he sees Tifa smile even while her gaze is averted. He made the right choice.

The rest of the evening passes in quiet companionship. Cloud finds himself relishing in these shared moments, and wonders why he doesn't try to do this more often. After he's done eating, he washes the dishes. Tifa lets him without protest. He fetches his scheduling book and map next, laying them out on the dining table along with his phone. Together, they get work done.

It's not to fight some big bad anymore - not Shinra, not Sephiroth, not anything. There are no swords or fists at play. There isn't Barrett shouting loud words of encouragement. No Yuffie to steal their materia. No airships, no explosions, no magic. Just paper and pen, with the only goal to figure out tomorrow, and maybe next month. Figure out what needs to be delivered when and where. Figure out if the whiskey is running low and needs to be restocked.

For a time, Cloud didn't think he could get used to the quiet. Now he relishes in it. He scrawls down an address in his book. Looking up, he notices that Tifa's eyes are closed, her cheek propped against the heel of her palm. Her pen hangs limply between her fingers, her inventory book still opened in front of her.

He huffs. "Tifa," He tries, speaking lowly, not wanting to startle her. He watches her brows furrow, her lips press closer together. "Tifa."

She draws a slow breath, then opens her eyes to meet his. For a second, she's confused. Did someone call her name? Why is Cloud looking at her like that? His eyes are so soft. Her cheek is aching a bit. It takes her a second to realize that she'd dozed off. Taking a sharper breath, she sits up. "Oh, sorry." She says, giving him a sheepish smile.

"Bed's a nicer place to sleep than here," He tells her with a raised brow. "I still have to finish up some things here, so I'll be some time still." He doesn't want her forcing herself to stay awake for his sake. He wonders if she realizes she's doing the same thing as Denzel and Marlene.

Tifa shakes her head, "No, I'm fine," She insists, stifling a yawn as she closes up her inventory book. That's enough work for her, at least. "I wanted to watch some TV before bed anyways." It's a lie. She rarely ever chooses to watch TV for her own sake. Cloud raises a brow, they both know this.

"Yuffie wants me to try some crime drama." Tifa adds in explanation, and that, at least, isn't a lie. Yuffie had been blowing up her phone recently about this particular drama - about how good it was, and how Tifa absolutely had to watch it. Of course, she hadn't planned to entertain the young woman's insistence, but...she didn't want to head up into her room just yet either.

Cloud is not convinced, but he isn't about to tell her what to do. He shrugs, "Okay." He says, watching her pack up her work. He drops his attention back to his own work, deciding to try and get through it quickly so he doesn't keep Tifa up too late. Idly, he's aware of Tifa curling up on the couch and watching some cheesy crime drama. Or 'watching', more like. It isn't long before he hears her breathing even and slow, until she's fast asleep on the couch.

Cloud leaves her be while he finishes up. Once he's done, he folds everything up and sets it aside. He leaves it on the table because he's going to need his hands completely empty after all. Cloud switches off all the lights first, because he doesn't really need them to see decently well in the dark. Then, he steps over to the couch and turns off the TV next.

Tifa is curled up on her side again, like last night. He wonders if she's going to punch him again. Carefully, he bends down and touches her shoulder first. When no fists come flying, he pushes a hand behind her shoulders, while the other hooks beneath her knees.

Meanwhile, Tifa is awake the moment Cloud touches her shoulder. She remembers to keep still. Is this cheating? Does this count as lying? Maybe. But she's pretty sure that he knows she's awake, even as he hoists her up into his arms. He doesn't say a word, and neither does she. Instead, she curls into him, tucking her head against his collar as he heads over towards the stairs.

Tifa is a fighter. She loathes to be the damsel in distress. She'll put herself front and centre of the action. She'll put herself between the enemy and anyone else. But just this once, she's content to let her hero carry her up the stairs and into her room.

Cloud knows Tifa is awake. He figures she's letting him do this to make up for yesterday or something. Either way, he's definitely not complaining. Just hopes that she can't hear the way his heart skips and thuds when she leans her head against his collar, when she sinks into his arms. He carries her into her room, hesitating a moment at the door, but quietly nudges it most of the way closed behind him.

Stepping up to the bed, he lowers her down on top of it, letting her legs stretch out first, before he reaches his free hand up to adjust her pillow. Her room is sparsely decorated. There's a bed, and a desk, and a shelf with pictures of their friends and family sitting on it. It's not much different than his, except that she doesn't have spare tires and Fenrir parts strewn in a corner, and that there's a big, yellow rug in the middle of the room, with yellow flowers embroidered onto it.

He sets her head down on the pillow, brushing the hair out of her face. He's about to pull away when he hears her draw a breath and then…

"Cloud." Tifa breathes his name, and finally opens her eyes. She looks up into the night sky. He's leaned so close over her, fingertips still barely hovering over her temple. Is he holding his breath? She's pretty sure he is. Her chest is tight with so many things that she can't quite pinpoint anything specific, really. Anxiety. Warmth. Uncertainty. Desire. Affection above all. Affection? Was that a strong enough word…?

He still hasn't said anything. So she lifts a hand. It's her turn now, to brush fingertips over the slight stubble of his cheek, further back until she has his face cupped in her hand.

Her heart is racing. She wonders if his is too. Unlike him, Tifa doesn't have enhanced hearing. What she does have, is the ability to see the flicker of mako in his eyes and know that his is thudding as hard as her own.

He's frozen. He doesn't know what to do. He's only heard Tifa speak his name like that once before, but that had been different. Outside, under the Highwind, with very possible, impending death - but there was none of that now. But still she'd said his name. Still, she was looking up at him with eyes like rubies, like wine, like hearth in a home and Gods, wasn't she exactly all that to him?

And then she's holding his face and it's the most tender touch he's ever felt. Nothing. Nothing at all like under the Highwind. He isn't breathing but his throat closes up anyways.

He dips in closer, drawn in by her gaze, by her lips, her touch. Slowly, slowly. His blond locks tickle her cheek. He tilts his head. His fingers push into her hair. She closes her eyes. And then he can taste her again.

Except this time, there's no reason to pull away.

Their kiss is harder. Hungrier. Tifa curls her fingers into his hair as Cloud presses down more insistently. There's a bit of relief in all of this too. They'd both done their waiting. They'd both done their suffering, the guilt, the tears, the apologies - didn't they deserve this? Didn't they deserve the quiet moments? The peace? The mundanity, the laughter, the private smiles, and now - the heat, the closeness?

Of course they did.

Cloud breaks the kiss with a gasp, but doesn't let himself stop for fear that he'll start hesitating again and ruin the moment. He tucks his head beside hers, head filled with lilac and mahogany, lips trailing over the slope of her neck.

Tifa grips onto his hair, her breaths uneven, eyes halfway open. His lips on her neck are sinful. Then again, the soft noises spilling from her own are probably no better. Tifa feels him shift, the mattress sinking beneath his weight as he swings up and over her. His hands find her waist, he's straddling her legs, and just his presence over her feels like there's pressure on her chest. She drops her hands down, rubs them over the wide arch of his back. His skin is hot, even with the thin layer of cotton in the way. She bites her lip, fingers curling around the fabric as she tugs them up.

When she presses her bare palms into his back, they both sigh. It's relief that she breathes into his hair, that passes his lips and skirts the crook of her neck. The simple touch feels like acceptance. Feels like truth.

She pushes her palms up higher along his back, fingertips pressing and trailing over every ridge and curve. She can feel the firm ripple of muscle beneath them as she drags his shirt up higher.

Cloud pulls away from her shoulder with a gasp. He lifts his head, looking down at her, shirt bunched up beneath his arms. He can hear every tremble in her breath. Hell, he can hear her heart racing and he doesn't even need to concentrate. Her hair is fanned out beneath her. He pushes his hands up along her sides, rucking up the T-shirt that she's wearing.

Part of him still doesn't believe this is happening. He's half expecting something - anything - to happen that's going to force him stop and pull away.

But there's nothing except for Tifa, and she's murmuring his name. "Cloud…" She pushes up a bit, catching his bottom lip in her teeth. Her hands snake up under his arms to his shoulders. "It's okay," She says, and then kisses the corner of his lips. "It's okay."

It's all he needs to hear. He swallows, and nods.

Tifa watches as Cloud pulls back a bit, just enough to reach up and pull his shirt over his head and past his arms. He tosses the garment aside. Her eyes rake down his bare form. It's dark. She can't see much, but she can see enough. When he isn't wearing his usual outfit, when there isn't pauldrons and straps crossing every which way to carry his - frankly ridiculous - number of swords, when it's just Cloud, shirtless, in gym shorts, things feel so much simpler. It feels more like the worst of things are really behind them now. With sharp clarity, she realizes that this isn't to feel alive. This is to live.

His hands find her shirt again, rucked up to just beneath her breasts, plain black bralette peeking out from beneath it. His movements are shy, like he's trying to be modest even as he's tugging her clothes up and off. He catches the base of her bralette along with the shirt, and then pulls up. Tifa lifts her arms up for him. His eyes are fixed stubbornly on her face even as he tosses the clothing aside.

It's okay. It's okay.

Cloud lets his gaze drop down and nearly groans at the sight. Because it's Tifa Lockhart beneath him, nearly all bare save for a pair of shorts that aren't covering up very much. This time, it's his breath that shakes the whole way in. He drops his head down and kisses the column of her throat. His hands press into her bare sides, fingers sinking into her softness, leaving divots as he pushes them upwards. His whole body is aching for more. To go faster. To take and take. But his movements remain slow. He's taking, but in a different way. He's committing everything to memory. Taking in the sound of her breaths, the sweet salt of her skin against the tip of his tongue, the softness of her body and the muscle that he can feel beneath that - he's taking it all.

Tifa squirms beneath him because Cloud is driving her mad. His hands find her breasts and she arches up into him, into his lips as they find them too. One hand fists his hair, the other is dragging along his back and sides. "G-Gods-" She husks. She wants more. Also doesn't want this to end. She pulls her legs up on either side of him, pressing her knees into his waist. "Closer, Cloud, please."

He responds with a particularly hard suck that wrenches a proper mew from her.

At that, Cloud lifts his head to look at her, like he's surprised that she'd made that noise after what he'd done. Tifa flushes bright red, levels the weakest possible glare at him. "Don't you say a word."

Laughter breaks on his face. Cloud dives in again, pressing his lips to her neck right beneath her jaw. She wraps her arms around him, smiling into his hair, heart fluttering and fluttering despite all the heat. His laughter rumbles through him, drifting so close to her ear. His hands skid down her sides and down along her thighs. He presses closer, like she wanted.

"Tifa…" He murmurs her name, and realizes it's filled with everything welling up in him right then. They're so close that the length of their bodies are pretty well pressed to each other. "Tifa, Tifa, Tifa." Her name feels so good to say like this, buried against the side of her head, her warmth wrapped around him. He doesn't say the right words, but he's never been good with words. But it's there anyways, in her name as they fall and fall from his lips.

The way he says her name twists everything up inside her. Tifa clutches him tighter. She shifts her hips, draws a little breath as she feels him against her - hard and hot. His fingers dig deeper into her thighs. She rolls her hips up into his, and feels his muffled groan against her skin. "Cloud…" She's still holding him close, hugging him from beneath, hands rubbing up and down his back. "We can be closer still," She says, a little worried that maybe this is all he wants to do. Maybe this is as far as he wants to go. She turns, pressing a kiss into his hair. "Do you want to…?"

Cloud thinks his head is steaming. Tifa is asking him if he wants to do this? He almost laughs. How many times has his eyes wandered? How many times has he imagined? Tried to remember what it'd felt like that one time? Of course yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. He nods tightly against her, lifting his head up as his hands slide to find her shorts. He looks down at her and lets go, lets her see the hunger and the want and the need and the relief and the love all in his eyes.

The rest of their clothes come off in almost a blur. There's a renewed vigour in their movements now. Less doubt. Less hesitation. Her shorts and undergarments are off first. And then his.

He leans over her, forehead resting on her own. His hands grip her hips.

Tifa sees everything in his eyes, and she sees the question. She nods in response, parts her legs, parts her lips in a silent moan as she parts the rest of the way for him. When his hips nudge her inner thigh, she thinks she might weep with the sweet sensation of it - the relief, the connection. Cloud doesn't close his eyes because he wants to see everything, wants to take everything. But, Gods, he's nearly shaking with how it all feels.

They hold still a moment, breaths mingling. Just that - just breathing together - pressed tight like this - is almost too much.

Cloud rolls his hips and Tifa moans. The stillness is broken as he rocks into her, as she grabs at his shoulders, throws her head back into the pillow. She moans his name again and again. He kisses her throat, growling against her skin as he rocks harder, harder. They coil tighter in and around each other. Her fingers scrape his skin but he doesn't care. Gods, he doesn't care about anything else right now, except for Tifa, Tifa, Tifa.

Tifa's been aching for so long. She's been so wound up that it doesn't take long. Her hands drop from his shoulders to his head. "Cloud-!" She keens up into him, hips bucking, eyes barely open. Her breathing is ragged. Muscles, limbs, everything coiling tighter around him.

He lifts his head again, pressing his forehead down into hers. "Tifa-" He gasps, looking down at her. Gods, her expression, the tight grip of her legs wrapping around his waist, clinging onto him so desperately. He can feel her pulsing, pulsing, pulsing.

Cloud blinks and Tifa feels hot moisture drip onto her cheek. Her eyes widen. She looks up, feels her heart break and melt and everything all at once. Tifa pushes up, gripping the sides of his head tighter. Her lips find his. Desperate. She wants him to feel everything singing in her blood.

Tifa careens over the edge with a moan muffled against his lips. She bucks and trembles beneath him, gripping him so tightly that she might have worried that she was hurting him if he wasn't her Cloud Strife.

She breaks the kiss with a gasp as Cloud plunges hard into her. He doesn't pull back, just grinds and grinds. She clutches him closer, coaxes him more and more."Tifa!" He sobs her name, harder, harder, eyes slammed shut. He comes, bucking and shuddering like her, fingers dark divots at her hips, voice reduced to rasped husks.

They stay tangled up like this. His skin dewy from exertion. Her hands rubbing back and forth through his hair. It's a minute before their breathing slows and evens. Another after that before he opens his eyes.

She kisses him.

Cloud stays the night.

They never speak about that night. Or the ones after that. They don't start calling each other by different names. They're not suddenly boyfriend and girlfriend or anything like that. They're just Cloud and Tifa. Like they'd always been. They don't speak about that night because they don't need to.

Cloud turns his office into just that - an office. It becomes an office that they all share. Tifa keeps her books in there now, too. They get new tables so the kids can do their homework in there too.

Tifa's room becomes Tifa and Cloud's room.

Denzel and Marlene notice these changes but say nothing about it. They only exchange glances and big smiles.

Life continues on.

The morning of the big day, Cloud wakes to the feeling of Tifa nestling back against him. He drifts closer back to consciousness, tightens his arm around her middle. He can hear that she's already awake. He noses into her hair and breathes in deep.

"...Are you sniffing me?" She asks with a soft laugh. Tifa presses back closer still, and slides her hand down to rest over the back of his. She laces her fingers through his. It's still early. Grey morning light seeps lazily through the drawn curtains of their room. She knows the kids are still asleep. School has just been let out after all, they're allowed to sleep in.

"Gonna' stop me?" He mumbles into her hair.

"Mm," She hums in thought, "No."

Cloud takes another pointedly deep breath and turns his hand over in hers, holds it tighter. They stay like this for longer because they can. Because Cloud doesn't have deliveries today, and because the bar is closed. They're supposed to wake the kids up soon. They're supposed to take a taxi out of Edge. They're supposed to meet Cid and board Shera and wait to see how long it takes the kids to realize they're at Costa del Sol. Tifa betted on them noticing before landing. Cloud disagreed.

But there's still time before all that. So Cloud stays in bed. His thumb brushes over the wolf ring on her finger. He hums. "Tifa."

"Mm?"

"Hold your hands out for me?" He asks.

Tifa frowns, confused. She flips onto her back, turning her head to look across at him. "My hands?" She asks, looking quizzically at him. But Cloud's expression betrays nothing other than that he's relaxed. He nods. She frowns some more, then lifts her hands up in front of her face. "Like this?"

"Yeah, hold still." He reaches up, gently wiggles the wolf ring off her finger. Tifa's eyes widen. She isn't sure if she's jumping to conclusions or- But he's moving it. He picks her left hand. Picks the left ring finger. Wriggles the ring back down. "I think it looks better there," He says quietly, eyes looking past the ring to meet hers. "What do you think?"

Tifa wants to punch him. She also wants to kiss him. Instead, she laughs.

"Yeah, I think so too." She says, and then kisses him anyways.

Notes:

Thank you for reading!

I haven't written a fanfic in nigh on eight years now. It's a lot more work than I remember, but I had a lot of fun. It feels good to give these two poor saps a happy ending. :) Also available on Ao3, of the same name, if you prefer!