A/N:

I originally intended this to be a sequel to 'White', thus the title red, but my plot bunnies had other plans. Enjoy!

Warning(s): Does sexual tension warrant a warning?

Disclaimer: I own nothing! Seriously…nothing.

Red

By Catsitta

Aerith couldn't explain why she was here. She couldn't explain the way her heart raced or the pool of clothing on the floor. She couldn't explain her hands as they wandered across the smooth expanse of moonlit skin before her. She couldn't explain the scars that she traced. She couldn't explain why she did not heed her mother's warning about men.

She couldn't explain a single thing. All she knew was that beneath her palm was a man's chest, and she could feel his heart beating in a steady rhythm. She was frozen by her questions, yet liberated by her own lack of answers. Was it curiosity? Was it impulse? Was it destiny?

As a hand closed around her wrist, calloused and warm, Aerith found herself looking up into the eyes of her almost lover…a man she trembled with both desire for and fear from. He did not smile. Then again, he rarely did. "Aerith," he murmured, his mako-tainted gaze burning through her. Was it lust she saw? Was it anger? Disgust? Everything about those eyes made her feel self-conscious. She suddenly wanted to cover her exposed skin and run away as fast as she could.

"Aerith," he repeated, as if sensing her anxious thoughts. "Why?"

An honest question. Just another to add to the plethora swimming in her head. Why was she here this late at night? Why had the moon affected her so? What about the way the flowers glowed in the dark had compelled her to lay amongst them? Why had she reacted in such a dishonorable way when her almost lover entered the church, his intentions unclear?

It was as if he knew that they would be drawn together tonight, at this very place. Guilt had played in his eyes ever so briefly, before Aerith's moon-addled mind had driven her to ease his leather coat from his shoulders, and unbuckle the armor that decorated his impressive shoulders. Rarely had she ever touched the man before now, for it always seemed to bother him…to make him turn cold.

Yet tonight, he did not shift away. Instead, he drew closer, perfect lips tracing the shell of her ear, his breath hot against her shoulder. Stray strands of silver were allowed to fall against Aerith's flushed skin and for once he did not scold her for touching his hair. "Aerith," he repeated, causing her to shudder with unbridled longing. "Answer my question…why?"

She leaned closer, wanting to revel in the feel of this moment…this man. Her voice had been stolen away from her, and she dared not speak lest the moment be broken. But when her almost-lover stilled her motions, holding her wrists together with a grip like bands of iron, Aerith knew she had to find the will to speak, "Must there be a reason?"

"You know not of what you ask from me."

"I'm not a child."

His chest began to tremble and Aerith soon realized he was laughing. It was then that the moment was broken. She tried to draw away, but her almost lover held her wrists fast. Mako-green eyes burned into her…through her, before a curtain of silver shadowed them. "Why are you here, Aerith?"

"I…I wanted to be here."

"But why?" he asked, before turning his face towards the moonlight that poured through the rafters. "Why this place? Why now? Why with me?"

"Why not?"

Another deep rumble of laughter,"This is your Promise Land, Aerith. You can be anywhere. You can be any when. You can be with anyone." The room suddenly felt twenty degrees colder and the air felt hard to breathe. "Yet you chose to be here, in an abandoned church. You chose to be here before the fall of the Plate…And you chose to be here with me. Your murderer. The world's enemy. Pardon my being curious about your chosen perversion."

Aerith blinked through her confusion. Promise Land? She was living in Midgar…she tended her flowers every day. Her mother lived just a short walk away…

"It's all a fantasy, Aerith. It's not real." the man before her suddenly became less mysterious. His identity no longer eluded her. What she believed to be an ethereal dream made reality was shattered by the truth. By memories.

She was dead. She had watched the world face its trials from the Lifestream, denying herself paradise until all whom she loved passed on and were given a chance at rebirth. It had been unbearable to remain once her friends faded away. Why endure when she could pass on into the afterlife, her final reward? The Promise Land was everything she had dreamed of, had ever wanted. She could submit all strength and be weak to the absolute will of the Planet. Anything she desired was given.

But of course, there was a cost.

The manipulations of the Planet altered her memories. Rarely did she consider anymore that there had been more before this life.

Suddenly, lips claimed hers and the grip on her wrists tightened. At first, he was rough and demanding, but the kiss soon turned sensual…then almost sweet. He pulled away and smirked, sending a shiver of fear through her spine. Aerith remembered that face…that smirk. It was the cold, cruel visage of the man whom stole her life. Yet, she could not find the strength to pull away.

"This is the Promise Land, Aerith," he told her, his grip tightening almost painfully. "Anything you desire you may have." He drew her close, his lips again dancing along the edge of her ear. "Tell me Aerith, what exactly it is you desire? Do you wish to scald me with your hate? Smother me with your forgiveness? Or have you always fantasized of me as your lover." He grinned wickedly,"Such perverse thoughts for such a sweet, innocent girl."

Uncertain of her feelings, for desire remained despite the fear and confusion, Aerith began to struggle, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes. "Let me go! Sephiroth…"

He answered her pleas with a nip on the neck,"You don't mean that, do you? If it was your desire to be free of me, then I would no longer exist. Yet here I am. You want me." In an impressive display of dexterity and strength, Sephiroth pulled Aerith's arms up above her head before taking his other hand and lifting her hips astride his. Instinctively, so as not to dangle from her wrists, she wrapped her legs around his lean waist. "Now all you have to do is take me as you desire. Tell me, Aerith, do you wish for sweet romance, a courtship of wine and flowers? Would like us to join for the night and for me to be gone the next day, but a memory you wish you could forget?"

Aerith flushed from both his words and the way her dress was hiked up to her hips. She had forgone a jacket for the night had been warm, and now she regretted it for her shoulders and the swell of her breasts were scandalously exposed. Beneath his gaze, she felt utterly naked.

"Or would you rather, Aerith, remember that we are enemies? Our very natures conflict. Perhaps you feel the storm building and would like to weather its brutality?" he released her wrists and instead of punching him, she laid open palms on either shoulder, nails biting into glowing skin. "What is it you desire Aerith? For what reason have you invited a nightmare into your dreams?"

Slim fingers traced the dip of her spin before easing down the zipper of her dress. She should try to stop him. She should scream and fight and banish him from her Promise Land. Yet…she could not. This man, this terrible, beautiful man, was a part of her past. The only unresolved piece of her life's puzzle. She should hate him. She should feel the desire to harm him as he did to her.

But she could not. For him she could feel only desire…could grant only forgiveness.

"You are here because I have yet to come to terms with my death," Aerith whispered. "I still desire to be alive. Real."

Fabric fell away from flushed skin.

"I am at your command."

Fin

A/N: (Thank you for reading! Please review.)