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Tifa pulls Yuffie's hand away from inn's front desk bell, her incessant ringing just one more of today's headaches. Impending storm, aside. The inn's modest lobby, if you could call it that, was packed in tight with tourists, puffer coats rubbing against one another. Wet boots squeaking against hard wood, skis and snowboard blocking ways.
She tugs her hat off, suddenly overwhelmed by the heat rising in the room. Shoos the others away as to not overwhelm the already displeased staff, who force a cold smile her way.
"Do you have a reservation, miss?"
Of course they didn't. Every aspect of their journey so far, ill-planned or entirely off the cuff. And they certainly didn't expect to be soon hit with a blizzard, to spend almost all of their savings on outerwear and lodging. The woman at the front desk, already exasperated, answered for her.
"We only have 2 rooms left for the night. Small though, each room has 2 twins. And we could provide an extra cot, for a small fee."
Tifa looks behind her, more ski-suit clad tourists milling in with likely the same intentions of nabbing a last minute room. "We'll book those. Thank you."
Of course the math didn't add up, but they had to take what they could get. Tifa counts in her head, Barret, Cid and Vincent in one room. Yuffie, Red and Cloud in the other… Cait could just power off, she supposes? And well, as for herself—
"Are there any other inns in the area?"
"There is our newly opened sister inn and spa, just down the road in Modeoheim. If you're willing to make the trek. Bit bumpy, roads aren't quite there yet, but just follow the red painted signs. Perfect for the adventurous type."
Adventurous, or just desperate?
Tifa sighs. "Thanks."
The bill is settled with their ever-dwindling gil, and Tifa dreads sharing the situation of their rooms to the already cold, sore, disgruntled group. She doles out keys and room assignments and ushers them upstairs, everyone eager to escape the crowed lobby and to get a hot shower.
If only… the simple pleasure of hot water once again, not an option.
It all reminds her of her first months in the slums. Alone, broke, deprived. Just a stranger in a strange place, surrounded by strange faces. All but a familiar, pouted face by the foot of the stairs. Cloud's.
"Two rooms can't possibly hold us all." He notes, when Tifa's approaches. "'Specially Barret."
"Well. Two was all they had left. 4 beds total, with the option of adding cots."
"For a price, I'm sure." It was like he could read her mind. These days, Tifa was thinking that could even be possible.
"There's another inn down the road, apparently. I think I'll head there."
"One of us can't sleep on the floor?"
They shared an incredulous look, as is anyone would be willing. As if being packed in like sardines wasn't demoralizing enough. On top of Cid's smoking, Barret's snoring, Yuffie's antics…
Tifa, in the sour mood she was in (and hated herself for), maybe even preferred to leave. To weather the storm alone, as she practiced all these years. A thought that only added more poison to the already sick, group morale.
"This other inn, it's a spa too, apparently. Down the way in Modeoheim. Could be nice?"
"Modeoheim?" Cloud stiffens, readjusts his gloves. "That place is an abandoned Shinra shithole, last time I checked."
"Oh." Shinra. Bad news. Maybe Tifa would just have to suck it up and stay, sleep on the floor, tally up another sleepless night.
"I'll come with you." Cloud offers, with an edge in his voice that keeps popping up. More often, and more worrying with each terse word.
Reason tells her to decline. The darkness around Cloud seems to grow everyday, and a reasonable woman would not step into such darkness, alone, snow storm on the radar. Not after knowing what she knows, and all that she doesn't know…
Memories of Cloud's blade too close to her chest, lungs pooled with mako…
Resurfaced memories of Nibelheim, a promise, a hero…
So her hearts tells her the contrary. Urges her to say yes, to go to the spa with the man she desires, share the night with a man she wished to reach. To know him more, to touch…
And he's already made a convincing case by simply waiting for her. Cute and bundled with pink cheeks kissed by the frost, golden hair peaking out from a knit hat.
At the very least, she'd do it for morale.
"Ok. But go tell the others so they don't worry, okay?"
The interior of Modeoheim's inn and bathhouse is a stark contrast to its dark, industrial exterior, the outside facilities yet to be included in the towns revitalization plans. Tifa admires the beautiful jade green tiling from floor to ceiling, the warm weather plants sprawling about. The steam in the air from main floor baths warms her sinuses, clearing out any lingering, dour thoughts.
The inn's front desk employee, sweet and bubbly and already irking Cloud it seemed, starts her pitch about the new inn and Modeoheim tourism. How they only recently opened and due to the recent inclement weather and dated infrastructure, have yet to see the number of tourists they had originally anticipated.
No doubt, Shinra's influence must've had some effect as well, the woman delving into the town's past. What was once a former research facility, was recently bought out by the same owners of the Icicle Inn for renovations and grand expansion plans.
"This place is a perfect getaway for some TLC. Take a soak in the natural springs water. Get a scrub. And, we offer couples packages."
Couples? Cloud and her can only blush at each other. Tifa unzips her coat, suddenly overwhelmed by the humidity.
"Thanks, but we're just looking for a room." Mental slip, her brain fogging. "Well, two, I suppose."
The woman smiles at them, throws Tifa a knowing and not-so-subtle wink. "Tell you what. Since we only recently opened, we're running a special promotion. Lovebirds Package, king-sized bed, unlimited access to the baths and spa add-ons, rose petals on the bed…"
"Um—" Tifa interrupts, unable to look anywhere now but up at the glimmering tiles. "Thing is, we don't really have the budget for all that. Is there a cheaper option?"
"Like I said, we're running a promotion. Lover's suite for only $300 gil a night."
"Really?"
"If, of course, you spread the word about our luxury inn. If people know such lovely couples come through here," another teasing look, "then we'll be fully booked in no time."
"Deal. We'll take it." Cloud cuts in, both of them eager to not lose this bit of good luck. He makes a quick exchange of gil and keycard, and before Tifa has time to process, they are directed past robed guests and upstairs to their suite.
"Wow." She releases the breath she didn't realize she was holding.
"Yeah. What a steal."
Yes, Tifa would pivot focus to how much money they saved, how nice their lodgings were as compared to sleeping on a cold, wooden floor. Their room was minimalist and clean — natural accents, pretty teak furniture, crisp white linen, cozy lighting.
But there was the matter of the bed, looming large at the center of the room, decorated with rose petals as promised, and a towel twisted into a swan. Tifa pushes the matter out of her periphery, heads to the bedside phone to ring the others at Icicle Inn. Barret answers and plans are confirmed to meet back up tomorrow on their end.
"You kids behave!" Tifa hopes Cloud didn't hear the end of that call and Barret's laugh, booming as she hangs up the receiver.
"Don't worry too much about the others." Cloud finishes shaking off his winter gear, tucks his boots into the closet. Helps Tifa with hers, carefully hangs up her fuzzy scarf and lays out her wet gloves.
"Huh? I'm not worried." She was, of course. Tifa was worried about them, all the time these day. The anxieties that kept taking and taking, eating away at her, mounting. Heavy thoughts becoming far too large to carry or to stuff away, even for all their helping hands.
Some things just couldn't be locked away.
"Sorry." Another deep breath, and a big stretch to shake out the sullenness. Grounding herself. "You're right, let's make the best of this."
Tifa moves onto the the sleek mini-fridge, suddenly parched after a long day. Decides upon a large glass bottle of Banora cider, pops the top off and pours out glasses for the both of them. The act steadying her, normalizing her heartbeat, reminding her of her bartending skills and of Seventh Heaven. Her drinks of late would always be in the bar's honor, of the friends she made there, of her friends lost…
"Cheers." Cloud waits for her before sipping, well, more of a gulping. He must've been feeling quite ravenous too. These past few weeks, so, so draining for them all. Not enough water or food in the world to make up for it.
But still, she cheers. Still, she finds herself smiling in this simple act. She was alone with Cloud after all, in this calming place, letting the bubbles from the cider bring her to tipsy bliss. Still, she laughs with him — his presence, their chemistry, their past — always pulling her in.
The bottle is soon empty and they are sitting on the bed, cross-legged, knees touching. And how badly, and suddenly, she is stricken with the urge to kiss him.
Despite everything, still. She admonishes herself, shame prickling up inside.
And despite the fact that they once kissed back at the Gold Saucer, the thought of such intimacy was still embarrassing to her. Especially now. Was it wrong, inappropriate? To feel such desire alongside such mourning, suffering?
Luckily Cloud interrupts her, and these confusing thoughts. For now.
"Should we hit the baths?"
They each rinse off before heading to the communal bath area, trying their best not to focus on bare skin not covered by a bathrobe. Ever since they were children, Tifa could tell when Cloud was staring at her — and he was indeed, staring at her, trying to sneak glances.
Though Tifa considered herself to be quite modest and shy, she wasn't above a bit of teasing. She giggles at the memory of Costa del Sol, Cloud caught red-faced, staring at her in her bikini. And so she teases now, bending slightly when she talks to him. Lets the robe's fabric billow just a bit, for just a peak of skin.
It made her heart soar, of course. To know he was looking at her like that, with covert, lidded eyes. In the same way that she looked at him, and his damp, pushed back hair, the cut of his chest, his muscled legs…
Stricken sick with the thought of taking his robe's tie, looped neatly in a bow, and pulling…
"Catch up in a bit?"
This is where they'd split up, men and women divided into separate bath areas. Tifa smiles at him sweetly, waves him off. Some much needed sweetness to tame the spice of her thoughts.
The steam of the baths only floods her mind more. The hot water she soaks in buzzing her skin, heating her blood from shoulders to toes. What was supposed to calm the nerves and blunt the senses only seemed to set Tifa ablaze.
Cloud.
She was spending the night with Cloud, just Cloud, at a romantic spa getaway. By what seemed to be a continuation of bad luck was turning out to be something miraculous, if only she could change her mindset. Tifa would spend the night with Cloud Strife, one bed between them. After some drinks, a sensuous bath, and now a full body scrub…
As the masseuse's hands worked the gritted, crystalline scrub into Tifa's sore calves, she nearly cried out at the intensity of it all. At the absurdity of her own situation.
Was she getting ahead of herself… again?
How could she let her thoughts run so wild, and make such assumptions?
She had no idea where Cloud's head was at. Hasn't known for a while, and maybe not ever. Especially lately, so hard to see past the shadows that blinded them.
God, this mess they were all in…
Tears pool up in her eyes, from the scrub or from her own troubled mind, she cannot tell.
So maybe a night spent together needed to be just that. A night to recoup and relax as individuals, to sleep on the far ends of the bed. Not as a pair, maybe not even friends, and certainly not as lovers.
They were there simply because there was no other option. Just another case of circumstance that Tifa would have to grin and bear.
After her scrub , she rinse offs — and with that, her sprawling thoughts too down the drain, like a darkened oil spill. She chooses a cold plunge to finish off the experience, a much needed jolt to the senses. Bitter cold constricting the heat of a yearning, young woman. Painful, stinging ice to blackout a troubled mind.
Pin prickling the message into her skin: Let it go.
She gasps at the shock and comes up for breath.
Tifa returns to their room to find Cloud already back, cold beer bottle in hands. He looks to be sparkling, tanned skin shining and smooth. Squeaky clean, she thinks, wanting to giggle, wanting to touch his clean hair.
And she realizes, maybe the cold plunge was all for nothing — because that heat she felt before, floods right back at the sight of him. And how his eyes widen at the sight of her, before shyly diverting, handing her an opened beer.
"Enjoy yourself?"
"How can you tell?"
"Dunno. You're glowing, I guess."
"Oh." The compliment has her fingers running nervously through long, damp hair twisted at her side. "That's probably from the scrub."
"I got that too. The lady nearly tore my skin off." She eats up his cute smirk, and notices the spread of food room service laid out on the tea table before them, suddenly feeling her hunger so acutely.
All this hunger…
They eat and drink and laugh. They talk about things that Tifa can't quite recall at that point, distracted by desirous thoughts. They each change into the room-provided sleep sets, crisp, airy cotton so comfortable and freeing. Cloud nearly does it in front of her, robe sliding down his chest before realizing his blunder and moving to the bathroom.
But not quick enough for Tifa to not catch a glimpse. Of sinewy muscles, trailing hairs, scratches and scars…
She supposed they were even though, in terms of sizing each other up. Her pajamas thin, form fitting to her curves, allowing for imaginations to wander. And she fears the alcohol has given her too much brazen confidence, with the way she postures, pushes her chest out.
They keep drinking, bottle brought to the bed. Tifa turns on the bedside radio and she is so full, so happy, music her first and forever love lulling her to peacefulness. They watch the snow flurries peaking through the window's blinds, wind picking up, the moon's glow radiating.
"Cloud." She can only say his name, unsure of where exactly she is headed, only sure of the general direction.
"Tifa?"
"I… I feel like I have so much to say to you."
More than he could ever know. More than she herself understood. Unanswered questions, accusations, traumas, loss…
Never enough time to truly hash it out. Never enough strength to quiet her anxious heart.
"Yeah… same, I think…"
"Right…" Tifa inches closer, sat up on her knees. "The thing is, I'm just not sure about my words, lately. Like, I'm not sure I can trust them. Or maybe, I'm afraid of them."
All this doubt, all this fear, constricting—
Cloud leans in too. His eyes so… frightening sometimes, so piercing and swirling. Yet in this moment, wide. Earnest.
Could she ever fully trust those eyes, of all they've seen? Could Cloud trust hers, tinged with weakness, regret?
Could they ever move past it all? Brave the storm, survive the journey. Hell, even the next few days?
"Right now, I don't want to rely on words." The words she stumbles over, which tumble out clunky, unsure. "What I want to say, maybe it can come from my gut. From action."
His head tilts. And his beautiful face is so close, lips just inches away, and there they are all over again — in Cissnei's bedroom in Gongaga, just on the precipice of something so needed, so right…
And on the Gold Saucer's Skywheel, skies and hearts ablaze, allowing themselves to be carried away in the moment.
"Would you let me tell you?" Tifa reaches out cold-palms, wet with the bottle's condensation, gingerly cups his face.
She chooses to trust the familiar blue in his eyes, that fateful blue she's cherished since that night on the water tower. She chooses again to let the stars guide her, asks for their light to warm a trembling, wounded heart.
Cloud must be able to hear her heart asking, as he answers with a push forward, let's himself be pulled into her kiss. Just like their sky wheel date, bravery in extending a hand. Letting her in…
He only shows only a bit of restraint as she plants the first soft, tentative kisses, before giving in and going deeper, messier. His hands at her waist, firm, squeezing. Taking.
Tifa's head feels like it could pop, right about now. Like an air-ballon, already sky high and carried away.
Her wandering fingers dance along his taut stomach, carved muscles felt even through the shirt's fabric. Tifa teases the bottom hem as they kiss, and Cloud, ever responsive to even her slightest sighs, movements, intentions — answers with a quick swipe of fabric off and over his head.
And now Tifa has no choice but to stare. Enjoy the gift which Cloud has confidently given her. He gently pulls her hand back to him, places her spread fingers back over his abdomen.
"Caught you looking before. When I changed."
Heat floods her stomach, her face. Oh no.
"Oh, I…"
How the the tables have turned. Young Cloud, always the one to be staring. Now older Tifa, the admirer. Caught in the act.
"Thought you might want to touch as well." It comes out deep, breathy, nervous. But he hides any lingering embarrassment in her neck, planting soft kisses around her collarbone.
Led so gently, so sweetly to her treasure, Tifa obliges. With a hitched breath and nervous laugh, demure actions to hide a growing giddiness.
Hands travel the expanse of his bare skin, first exploratory then very quickly, wanton and possessive. Pawing over his pectorals as they kissed, squeezing his obliques when his tongue meets her, fingers tracing down a trail of hair that stopped at his waistband. An arrow pointed to gold, that made him shiver when followed.
Cloud gets her back, of course. His own wandering hands a shock to her system. First, over her shirt and then under, only daring to palm her stomach. To not move any higher, not yet. not without permission.
"Tifa…"
That voice, deeper than usual and yet still endearing, one that floods her heart with warmth, familiarity, desire.
A voice that can also twist and distort. Instill fear. Sow distrust…
But it is the way he says her name. Like no one has ever uttered it before. Tifa, Tifa, Tifa. Yelled in battle, uttered in concern, whispered on a sensuous night. And it was all she needed to hear in the moment, to trust, and to raise her arms above her head, opening herself to him.
She'd remember it forever. Cloud's reaction to seeing her, bare before him. A red face with adorable googly-eyes, quite the departure from his usual, practiced scowl. His endearing wonder allowing Tifa to not feel so overwhelmed, exposed.
Which only lasted for so long, before he had his hands on her chest. Curious fingers, then his mouth. Before she felt the hardness between his legs, stroking shyly over taut cotton. She didn't have a clue what she was doing, and supposed Cloud maybe didn't either. The sounds escaping their lips so foreign, but so exciting.
She doesn't know how many times she said his name, as his tongue lapped. As he moaned into her, in response. His palm over her scar, holding her gently in place. Without words, speaking desire, tender care, apologies.
And she really can't measure how loud her gasp was, when there was a knock at the door, the two of them snapping away from each other. Cloud quickly wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, Tifa frantically looking for her discarded top.
"What?" Cloud barks through the door, frazzled, electric energy bouncing around the room.
"Turn-down service?"
"Uh, no. No thanks." He tries to straighten out the warble in his voice. Brushes fingers through messed up hair. They look at each other with wide eyes. Surprised silence, then, bursting out in a fit of laughter. True laughter that sounds bizarre coming from Cloud's lips. But Tifa loves it, clings to this boyish part of him, this silly moment.
Though the heated moment before… had totally passed, tension deflating in the room as Tifa wrangles her shirt back on. Pulls tangles out of her long hair.
"Wow," is all she can say, gathering her bearings.
"Wow," Cloud repeats, getting up to chug some water, probably to set himself straight. They dawdle a bit, the haze of what happened before still settling in their veins.
"Another time?" She offers, attempting to ride the last wave of their boldness. Before it inevitably, becomes a thing so rare and out of reach.
"If I'm lucky enough."
They soon tuck themselves into bed, turned towards each other, the weight of the past few weeks and the utter exhaustion hitting them both like a freight train. The moment before just a whirlwind blur, static energy of the room fizzling out.
Though before Tifa confessed to not having the right words, still in this moment, she needs some words to cling to. Something to assure her that the distance she thinks they just closed, had not just ruptured open again into a massive chasm.
Thankfully, her sleepiness lets the words flow easier.
"Will there be another time? With us, like this?"
Simply and softly, Cloud responds.
"I would like that."
"Okay… Me too."
"I'm free tomorrow morning." A sheepish smile, beautiful blue eyes nearly closed. A free hand reaching out to rest on her arm.
"You know where to find me." And she smiles too, sinking into her pillow and finally, into peaceful slumber.
They find the others where they left them yesterday, taking up too much space in the Icicle Inn lobby. Looking like a bunch of … well, misfits. But Tifa supposes she's part of said group of misfits, so she was happy to see them.
Everyone looking properly rested and recovered, while her and Cloud no doubt had seen better days. Cold from the waist down, trekking through windblown snow banks on their way back. And sweating from the waist up, the morning sun bouncing off the icy white hills, blazing onto their skin.
"You look like shit." Barret laughs at Cloud, patting a heavy hand on his back.
"We had to walk back in knee deep snow, dipshit."
"Cost of having a room all to yourselves!"
Cid grumbled at this, an unlit cigarette bouncing between his lips. Up and out of his chair, looking for a quick exit for his smoke break.
"What? Didn't like being roomies?"
"Oh yeah, your loud ass and this creep over here mumbling 'bout coffins and shit?" Barret points a thumb over to Vincent, a new member of their group and perhaps the strangest. "Best night ever."
"You could have roomed with us." Yuffie interjects, in a way a child would who just likes to be involved. "Totally quiet. Totally chill." Nanaki cocks his head up at her, with an incredulous look that makes the others laugh.
Cloud and Tifa push past the group and conversation to the loveseat in front of the fireplace, shedding their winter wear and peeling off their boots and socks. Cloud fishing out two pairs of dry socks from his backpack, for them to wear in the meantime.
"Definitely not as cute as your thigh highs, but it will do."
"Those are retired for now. While were up here in the cold."
"Damn shame."
Tifa giggles despite the cold, clammy, discomfort of the situation. They still had the whole day ahead of them, a potential hike up a snowy mountain, already snow-logged and behind schedule. But at least she could look to Cloud, gather warmth from his flirtations, from the night they shared. And the morning…
"Ew." Yuffie cuts in, always the eavesdropper. "Get a room, you two."
"We did. Last night." Cloud is quick with the retort, the two of them often talking like bickering siblings. Tifa thinks it's their youthful personalities that often have them butting heads.
"Yeah duh, I know you did literally. I meant, metaphorically. Like go be gross and pervy somewhere else."
"Whatever."
"Unless… Is that why you're so late? Cuz you two were busy going—" She makes smooching noises, wraps her arms tight around herself to imitate two people kissing. Garishly thrusts the air before taken over by a fit of laughter. Or maybe she stops after seeing the horror on their faces. "Admit it. You bumped uglies."
"Stop it. Do you even know what that means?"
"Do YOU?"
"Oh, shut up." Cloud grimaces, looking as if he'd launch himself at Yuffie, ready to ring the bell on a sibling death match.
"We're late because of the snow," Tifa placates, if only to end this ridiculous conversation that was gathering the attention of others in the lobby. They already didn't fit in, now there was a teenager grandstanding about kissing and "bumping uglies." Great…
Though, and Tifa's mind began to wander — Yuffie's intuition wasn't far off at all. No comment on her tact or phrasing, but not-so-innocent things did happen between her and Cloud.
Last night…and this morning, where they kept true to last night's word.
Because even a sleepy, silly, low-stakes promise kept, was something that warmed Tifa. Fueled her. These memories of chaste morning kisses, turned to curious, rubbing fingers beneath the blankets, ending in something Tifa can hardly think about without turning beat red.
And thank goodness her cheeks were already pink from the cold.
Simple questions asked, of if she liked it? Did it feel good? Was she close—? Her response a tantric shuddering, of a peak she had never climbed with another person.
She had similar questions for him, his hardness against her back the thing to tease her awake. Should she squeeze harder, quicker? Did he usually do it like this? Or like that?
And he guided her to the answers, so unbelievably sexy as he reached his own climax. A sight so intimidate, so tantalizing, that Tifa would do anything to see it again. This side of Cloud, undone and laid bare, only for her eyes to see.
She stares off into the fireplace, lost and abuzz with precious memories.
"We're way behind schedule y'all." Barret's loud voice pops her daydream bubble, brings her back to a less enticing reality. "Get your affairs in order while these two dry off, then we're hitting the road."
The group mills away, to grab a coffee, a smoke, some fresh air. Most opting for some of the Inn's breakfast before leaving. Cait offers to swipe some extra muffins for Cloud and Tifa, while they sit beside the fire.
"Thanks. I'm starving."Cloud mentions off-handed, but still, it piques Barret's attention.
"Bet you are. Lover boy."
"Yeah? I'm hungry like the rest of us."
"And it's not because of whatever made you late?"
"Told you. Late 'cuz of the snow."
"Uh huh." He trails off towards the dining room. "I was your age once. Dating Myrna. Ha, imagine all the things we were late to!"
Neither Cloud or Tifa could respond to this. Them both looking at each other, scandalized, guilty, like two kids caught up past their bedtime.
"Just be safe y'all. Still got a long road ahead of us. You understand?"
"…Heard."
Barret was right. Tifa knew, things were only getting harder. Longer paths to trek, tougher fiends, the emotional weight building and building— and her resolve, ever-shrinking, with each loss of control.
What awaits them on their journey up North?
And Cloud. Oh God, her Cloud, and the tendrils of darkness that bound him. Could he keep leading them? Could he be trusted? His mental state, the degradation, Sephiroth…
Would Cloud make it through to the other side with them?
And again, as if he is capable of reading her mind, he leans his head against hers. Simply and without second thought, in what feels like another promise. A tiny, unspoken, and much needed agreement — to sit in front of these flames until they were warm and dry. To experience this mundane moment, together, and still find it to be precious.
Silly Tifa, silly lovesick girl, so beholden to these promises…
But it was enough, it had to be enough. There had to be another time, another snowfall, another touch, another fire to sit before. And Tifa would tell herself this, and keep telling herself, until they all made it through — The planet, her allies, herself and Cloud — all of them, surviving, together.