(A/N) I wrote this several months ago, but I took a break from writing before I got around to editing it. Now that I've been writing again, I figured that this should be the first thing I post. :)

This is much shorter than my other oneshots, and the format is different; no real plot or story, just an idea that's focused on. And unlike just about everything else that I've written, this is done in third person, as opposed to my usual style of writing in first person. The timeline doesn't matter much at all; I saw it as being sometime shortly after Advent Children, but I suppose it could take place before too.

Fixated

Cloud was watching her; he always was.

It was something that he'd started doing a long time ago, way back when he was still a young boy living in a small town, and she was the pretty girl next door. Since then, it had become somewhat of an unconscious habit for him to quietly observe her, and his eyes followed her now without him actively deciding to do so.

Tifa never seemed to notice his fascination with her-or if she did, she didn't say anything about it to him-and Cloud hadn't quite found the opportunity to tell her just why it was that she captivated his attention so much. Nevertheless, whenever Tifa was in the room, he always managed to steal at least a few, fleeting glances over at her.

On mornings that he'd overslept or been convinced by Tifa to take some time off from work and sleep in, they always seemed to end up sharing the space in the bathroom while they went about their morning routines, and he'd smile to himself while he'd watch her meticulously brush her teeth and comb through her hair; fretting about imperfections that he couldn't even see.

He often sat down in the bar to do the paperwork for his delivery service, rather than hiding away in his office, just so he could watch her while she prepared drinks for waiting customers. Tifa was confident in being a bartender after having done the job for so many years, and he admired the grace with which she moved, and the way she mixed the different liquids together with sure, steady hands.

When Tifa joined him out in the garage while he tinkered with Fenrir, his progress with the bike always came to a halt, and he'd be mesmerized while watching her work out some frustrations on the punching bag after a long day. His eyes had a tendency to follow the trail of the tiny beads of sweat running down her skin, and the power held in her controlled strikes never failed to leave him in silent awe.

In the evenings, when the kids were tucked into bed and Cloud sat in the living room with her, his attention was never glued to the flickering television screen. He would peek over at her from the corners of his eyes, and be struck by how beautiful she was in the low light of the room; feet tucked up under her, and eyes dancing across the page of a book she was lost in.

There were nights when he'd come home late after finishing his deliveries, and he usually found Tifa curled up on the couch; sound asleep after futilely attempting to wait up for him. He couldn't ever leave her there, so he'd carry her upstairs and put her to bed, but he never left her room without taking a long look at her peaceful face.

When Cloud finally found the courage to watch her eyes though, and he looked across the crowded bar to find Tifa already looking over at him with a small smile on her lips, that's when he understood.

All this time she had been watching him, too.

The End

(A/N) This kind of story is something entirely new for me, so any feedback would be greatly appreciated. :3 I plan to post another oneshot very soon, and if you're interested in the other stories I'm working on you can always check my profile for more information.

-punkiemonkie