Disclaimer- I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any Final Fantasies or anything of that nature.

AN: Its….VALENTINE'S DAY! HOORAY! I LOVE this holiday!

And if one more poser-emo person comes up to me and says it's a stupid holiday, I'm going to CRUSH them with my power! Just because you're incapable of happiness and joy doesn't mean you have to destroy my enthusiasm!

I don't have a boyfriend. I've never had a boyfriend. But I love love, if that makes any sense. I love watching couples in the park, so engrossed with themselves that nothing else matters; men trying not to be awkward around their girls so they appear to be tough; all of that stuff.

I don't care about you rich white girls who think that your life is the worst in the entire world, because IT COULD BE WORSE, and you're just too engrossed in SELF-LOATHING that you can't see that! (Example- your parents really DIDN'T understand you and you really WERE the only one in the world, like those poor kids orphaned in the tsunami.) Bitches.

Remember-Depression is a disease, not a trend. -

WHEW! (Can you tell I've had a trying weekend?)

Seriously, though. Girls ages 10-16, don't confuse love for lust. Guys, don't take advantage of your girls. Emo people-shut the hell up and stop trying to explain to me why I should feel pity for you because you need the sympathy points. You're not alone, no matter how much you want to be. Get over it.

SO SORRY ABOUT THE LONG AN, BUT I'M FUMING! HAVE FUN READING THE FIC! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

FIC STARTS HERE:

CheshireKit presents:

Mon Ange

Part I/II

He was a monster.

Some said he was incapable of feeling any emotion except hatred and bloodlust. Hundreds hunted him for revenge, bounty-perhaps both. One way or another, he was always on the run. And be it hell or high water, he was always able to survive with his cold, empty eyes gazing into the night.

Traveling from world to world, he thrived on nothingness. He claimed no innocence, nor sought forgiveness for his crimes. Hardly speaking a word, few who had laid eyes on him had known what they had seen.

Some called him the fallen angel; a nickname based upon a black wing that appeared on his back when in desperate times of need.

Messy blonde hair stuck up in every direction; he made no attempt to tame the locks no matter how much people stared. What they saw more than his messed up hair and cold, icy eyes was the enormous sword strapped on his back. It had to be the size of him at least.

Yet in fear, the world remained silent.

His final distorted feature was his hand. A golden metal claw stood in place where there was once a hand. Each digit was as sharp as a falcon's talons, gleaming in the moonlight as he walked down the starlit streets.

This was how it was in every town. Traveling only by night, he drew much more fearful attention to him. His intention, of course, was to shut out the world and be alone. This helped.

It was upon this particular night that his routine was broken; as usual, he headed towards the bar closest to him and one that appeared to be almost empty. Being such an early time in the morning, the bar was apparently almost closed. He headed inside.

As he normally did, he sat down in a shadowy corner, hoping not to draw attention to himself. He doubted that if anyone saw the stain of blood on his collar they would hesitate to call the police. Covering it as best he could, he waited.

Now, my friends, this is where things all began to change. When he went into a bar, normally he would go up and get his own drink. He would order it when he was good and ready, then after paying would retract into the shadows to enjoy the feeling of liquor heading down his throat.

Not in the bar of Traverse Town.

"Excuse me, sir, would you like something?"

His eyes trailed up, glowing in the darkness, and meeting with a pair of green orbs. They were sparkling with happiness, as if everything in the world was going perfectly. The moment he saw her he knew that she had to be his.

Her brown hair was tied back in a messy braid, and she had a stain on her right cheek from a bit of dirt. She was not what most people would consider beautiful; when she smiled her eyes squinted just a bit too much, and she was a little too tall for most men's tastes. She was curvy, he'd admit to himself; though a bit lacking in the chest it seemed to suit her fine. Her hips were a little large, but none the less he found her gorgeous.

Never before had he ever really stopped to look at a woman. Sure, he'd had his way with many before he'd take what he really needed, blood, but he had never seen a woman with such a feeling. His breath hitched in his throat, and his eyes widened. His unusually small vocabulary became even smaller as he could not seem to find his voice.

She looked at him strangely. Light seemed to radiate from her, showering him in a feeling of peace he knew he could never have.

"Um…sir? May I get you anything?"

He seemed to snap out of his state and shook his head. She smiled slightly at him, starting to move away. Her eyes never met his, and she blushed slightly.

"Uhm…well…are you sure?"

He remained silent for a moment, but shook his head. She seemed to lighten up as he muttered the name of a drink. Her smile lit up the room as she nodded and headed off.

Moments later she came back with the drink in hand. She handed it to him and hesitated.

"May I…sit here for a moment?"

He looked at her strangely, but nodded once. What harm could it do? She was of course, tired, and probably wanted just a bit of company. It was not like they'd never see each other again anyway.

She began to talk about anything and everything. She just spoke, not bothered by the fact he wasn't responding with words. Whenever he nodded, her smile brightened a bit more and the blush on her cheeks seemed to grow just a bit.

Not once did he speak. He watched her in amusement, shock, and confusion. She sat there, talking to him as if he were a normal human. As if his past suddenly meant nothing, and he was forgiven for everything.

When it was time for the bar to close, she seemed almost sad. He looked at her pretty face for a moment. Finally, with his gloved hand, he reached over and brushed away the smudge of dirt. He felt a shudder run through her, and her face became warm.

She looked up at him, her green eyes getting lost in his. He turned away and broke the connection, much to her sadness. She sighed and reached for her coat.

"Well then, goodnight sir. I hope I'll see you again?"

He looked down at her again, not saying anything. She beamed up at him as a child would, innocence and obliviousness evident. He gave her no sign he'd ever be back; he merely walked away.

Her smile stayed in his mind for the entire night. Creeping into an alley behind a hotel, he settled himself in behind a stack of boxes. The feeling of his cold hand on her warm cheek; her voice chattering on and on about nothing; the bright look in her eyes. He tried relentlessly to rid her of him, but he decided he could see her again. He should see her again.

He wanted to.

-

"Yuffie, can you get me that?"

The short, raven haired girl sighed and threw Aerith a rag from under the counter. She glanced at her friend; she had been glancing at the door all night, as if expecting someone.

"What's up, Aerith? Falling in love with the door, perhaps?"

Aerith laughed at her companion, cleaning a glass and shaking her head.

"I don't know, Yuffie. Last night…some guy came into the shop…I don't know why, but he seemed so lonely and sad…I acted like an idiot."

Her last words surprised Yuffie, and she looked at her friend. A look of frustration was on her face.

"I didn't know what to do, so I sat down and started to just…talk. About everything! He must have thought of me as just a child…"

She blushed, recalling the feeling of his strangely and inhumanly cold hands against her face. It had made her shudder so, the small contact making her entire body to convulse.

"Good lord, Aerith. That poor guy must have ran from this place, never to come back!"

"Yuffie!" Aerith looked up at her friend, grinning half heartedly. What if she HAD scared him off? What if he never came back? She couldn't explain it, but she…she wanted him to return. She wanted to talk to him, and she wanted him to talk back.

The door opened, and Aerith's head shot up to it. She was a bit disheartened to see it wasn't the man from the night prior, but her heart leaped when she saw who it was. She heard a gasp from beside her.

"SQUALL!"

Her young comrade, on the other hand, lunged over the counter with a bright grin on her face. The seemingly emotionless man said nothing but opened his arms to the squealing girl, tightly enclosing her in an embrace when she finally reached him. His hands ran up and down her back, holding her tiny frame closer, planting kisses everywhere in his hair.

Aerith grinned at the man, who merely nodded at her before returning his attention to the girl before her. She was talking, and he seemed to sooth her down from her hysterics.

"Its ok…its ok…I'm back to stay this time…"

Aerith beamed at the now ex-marine, who had until then been engaged in combat somewhere south. Yuffie had been worried sick when he had said he had to leave. It was great to see that indeed he was alright as his letters had said.

"Welcome home, Squall. Here-a drink, perhaps? Water?"

He nodded, pulling Yuffie towards the bar. She had her arms tightly wound around his midsection, her face buried into his shoulder. Aerith could hear her chanting 'I love you' over and over again.

Aerith glanced yet again hopelessly at the door. Nothing. She sighed in defeat, getting Squall his drink.

For a long time they spoke of the man's journeys. They spoke of what he had missed, and all the while Yuffie never let his grip cease on him. Finally, the dup left Aerith to close up. A disappointed Aerith began to do so.

It was midnight when the door opened again. Aerith's eyes widened and her smile brightened, the feeling of her stomach doing flips taking her attention away from Squall and onto the figure in the doorway.

The man from the night before.

He sat in the same seat, and she felt his eyes upon her while she moved towards him. She hurried towards him.

"Hello again, sir! Would you like a drink?"

Again, she sat and talked with him. She spoke of anything she could think of-trying to distract him and prolong his stay. For the first time, in the middle of her rantings, he spoke.

"You name."

She was stunned at the interruption, and looked at him strangely. He looked away from her, and repeated the command.

"Your name. What…is it."

The only words he had spoken to her besides his order. His deep, masculine voice mad her shudder. It had an odd effect on her; her heart sped up and it seemed to cut into her soul.

"I-I'm Aerith" she answered, a bit flustered.

Aerith…a perfect name for a perfect angel, he thought. The word sounded like music…a prayer…peace itself. It made him feel strange.

Choosing to stay in Traverse Town, as it was eternally twilight, had its advantages. One of which was this girl. He knew he needed her. He wanted her. He craved her.

"And you? Do you have a name? I mean, of course you have a name, but what are you called?"

He debated on whether or not he should tell her at first. Finally his mind gave in.

"Cloud."

She stared at him in awe. Cloud. Such a deceiving name for such a strange person. Cloud. The word flew around in her head. Beautiful.

"Cloud? That's…a very nice name"

"As is yours, madame."

She blushed, her heart fluttering at the playful manner in which he spoke. It was then, as luck would have it, that she first noticed his hand. Her eyes widened when she saw it, and he felt self conscious, and cursed himself.

Instead of fleeing as even his mother had, she looked back up at him with a bright smile.

"Now then, where was I…"

-

From that night on, it became a routine. He would come into the bar at midnight, and she would speak with him. Few times he would respond, but he did so as he became more and more comfortable with her. She didn't mind that he had no hand, nor that he hardly responded to her in words.

A month passed by, and finally February came upon them. The days hurried on, and he made sure to stop by every day to hear her tales. Yuffie and Squall were attached at the hip.

Cloud had left behind his killing streak in hope of finding a real home. He liked it there; the eternal lack of daylight kept him at peace, and the fact that Aerith was there of course.

It was on February 12 that things took yet another change.

Aerith spoke of Valentine's Day fondly. She had said she never really had a previous boyfriend, but she dreamed of a guy who could give her chocolates and read her poems and bring her roses and teddy bears or something like that.

She spoke with such fondness that an idea came to him. He had begun to settle down in Traverse Town. It was amazing how much his angel had changed him. She had made him partially human again. He felt things now. The last time he had tried to kill, he felt guilt.

It was a start.

This Valentine's Day was his chance. He could give her the presents she wanted. In return, he hoped, she could give him the love he had been denied for these long years. She could give him a second chance at life. He'd do anything she wanted; go anywhere she wanted to.

The emotions he had grown for her were alarming to him at first. Such strong feelings had been awakened and spread like fire inside of him. It was driving him mad. He didn't want any other man touching her; hell, he didn't want them listening to her angelic voice. He hated it when anyone LOOKED at her!

He wanted her. He needed her. And Valentine's Day was the perfect opportunity to prove it.

-

End Part I

-

DAMN that was long! PHEW! Took a while to type! So, y'all, REVIEW! Part II coming tomorrow, alright? SORRY IF IT SEEMS RUSHED! PLEEEEASE REVIEW!

Generously,

-Kit -