I can still remember when we had first seen the house. Or what there was of it, anyways. It had been in shambles then but, it was all we were able to afford at the time. Everyone was still recovering from the damage ShinRa had caused, including us. Gil was tight but we had to start somewhere and, even if it was small and dingy, it became ours.
We worked together to rebuild it and, although it had taken us quite some time to get established, head-way was finally being made a few weeks into the project. The blueprint involved the bar being built on the main floor, taking up the space of the kitchen, dining room and living room in order to make it big enough for the customers. Barret would help speed things up occasionally whenever he had the chance, dropping by to help out in whatever way he could. I always cooked him up a warm meal as a thank you.
By the time the bar was almost complete, we agreed that the upper floor would be where we'd build the bedrooms. When he had approached me about it, he had scratched the back of his head before he began, like he'd always do whenever he struggled with words. There was only enough room for two bedrooms on the second floor and even then, they would be rather small, he informed me. If my memory serves me right, I think he had been blushing then, too. Although at the time, I didn't really understand why.
One room would belong to Barret and Marlene and the other would have to be shared by Cloud and I. Marlene had adamantly decided this, throwing a tantrum and giving everyone the silent treatment until we agreed; she wanted to have her father in her room and I couldn't blame her. She was, after all, just a child. Barret had apologized and told us we didn't have to go through with it if we weren't comfortable but, much to my surprise, Cloud had been the one to interrupt him and tell him that it was fine by him.
He had then looked at me with those mako-infused cerulean eyes. The question may not have been asked but it was there in his deep blue gaze. He was alright with those living arrangements but it meant nothing if I didn't agree. I had looked straight at Barret and nodded my head in the affirmative. I hadn't even needed to think about it back then.
Just like that, it had been decided. Marlene stopped giving us the cold shoulder almost instantly, opting to skip around while singing and then tackling Cloud and I fervidly in an embrace shortly after.
When it was time to build the rooms, Cloud wouldn't come down, working hard even through the night sometimes. I would bring him food and something to drink. But when I offered to help, he would strongly refuse and could never look me straight in the eye.
He finished it in two weeks and came downstairs to ask me if I wanted to see. When I had followed him upstairs to inspect the fruits of his hard labour, he showed me both Marlene's room and what would soon be our room, respectively. He stood back while I took in the size of both rooms. One of them was too small for two beds and it just happened to be ours. Since Marlene and Barret required separate beds, the bigger room was naturally given to them.
I had then heard him mumble something under his breath but didn't quite catch what he had said. When I had asked him to repeat himself, he did. I finally understood why Cloud had been so evasive all that time and why he wouldn't meet my gaze.
We would have to share a single bed.
Flustered, Cloud had spoken up, his words coming out fast and jumbled so I had had a hard time getting it all. But I understood the gist of it; he was willing to sleep on the floor or on a couch downstairs. I had smiled at him, finding it a sweet notion, but disagreed anyways. We built the house- the home- together and it was only fair that we should be comfortable in it. He had tried to argue but my mind was set; we would share a room and a bed.
It was awkward at first, going to sleep. Cloud would make sure only to come to bed when I would be fast asleep, always choosing to wait until the early hours of the morning in order to do so. I never approached him about it, but instead, tried to get the bar clean as early as possible so that I could accommodate him. I had to work harder but it had helped and at the end of the long days, it was worth it. The bags under his eyes disappeared and he looked better when he'd go off on a delivery trip.
Slowly, over time, I grew accustomed to his familiar weight on the bed, so much so that I could not fall asleep until I felt it; the sinking pressure of the mattress and the slight shift of the covers was comfort to me. I couldn't keep my eyes shut until my vision was greeted with the sight of the muscles and scars on his back, made visible by the dim light of the moon that seeped in from the window. They marred the tanned complexion of his exposed skin but they each told me a story. To this day, I could retrace them with my eyes closed.
The sound of his easy breaths became a lullaby that would drift me off into a tender sleep, to a dream or a nightmare.
But not even time erased the borders. It was like there was an invisible line that would divide our bed, divide our home and divide our hearts. Not even all the strength in the world could help me overcome it and reach out to touch him or to hold him. My body ached for it, my heart needed it but my mind had a will and it was one I could not defeat.
I hated those borders; those lines that kept us apart and created that distance. If they hadn't existed, maybe he would never have left.
Maybe he would have never felt the need to leave...
Maybe he would have opened up to me, like he once did so long ago.
Maybe, maybe, maybe.
The past is past and there isn't a need to dwell on it anymore. Even though he's back now, the borders only seem to have strengthened. They threaten me, daring me to cross them but I can't bring myself to do so, not even after all these years.
It's only the first night since he's been back after his battle with geostigma but still, the tension between us is thick and uncomfortable, threatening to choke us both. I'm awake this time when he comes into the room. His blue eyes drift over to me, soft and apologetic. He's aware of the way he's hurt me but doesn't see what he's doing to me now.
I try to smile at him but my lips falter and all I feel is cold. After all the fighting, all the bloodshed, why does it still feel as if nothing's changed between us?
He removes his shirt and I watch his back, relearning the scars. There are new ones now, not as healed as the others. Reddened and still somewhat fresh, it's only a matter of time before I grow to know them, too.
When he's changed, he makes for the door and I already know what he's going to do. Before I can stop myself, I open my mouth in protest; "Where are you going?"
Even to me, it sounded needy but my emotions are strung out, my body and mind still on edge after everything that's happened. It's all I can do to fight off the urge to scream at him when he turns to look at me.
"Getting some water. Did you want something?" He asks, his voice empty and monotone.
I sit up and shake my head because we both know it's a lie. When he opens the door, I say, "Don't do it."
I'm not looking at him but I know he's stopped and that he's worrying about me now. The tension has thickened and I can feel its pressure; it's getting to me. The razor sharp lines between us threaten me but for some reason, I'm not as scared of them at this point.
"Tifa..." The way he says my name sounds soft and pleasant and is followed by his bare footsteps as he closes the distance between us.
I continue to stare at the crisp and clean white of the covers, even when I feel the bed shift. He's taken a seat on his side but still won't cross the edge. He won't cross the line and neither will I.
"Let's just...let's just sleep, okay?" I look up at him when I say this, giving him my best reassuring smile that I can muster.
Concern is evident on his face and I fear he's going to refuse but then he moves the covers and gets underneath them. The lines are still there, keeping him away from me; keeping us away from each other. I wait for him to give me his back and to turn off the light but he doesn't; his elbow resting on the pillow and his hand supporting his jaw instead, he watches me.
I lie back down and rest the side of my head on the pillow, facing his anxious gaze. My hand tempts the border, fingers inching towards it where he lies only a short distance from it. Weak, I stop myself. He hasn't noticed.
He's still staring at me when he speaks, "Everything okay, Tifa?"
"I'm fine." I whisper.
I search his face when I pose my next question; "When did it get this way between us?"
My fingers test the border again, tempted to touch him. He remains quiet but he's noticed my hand now. He sighs and rests his head on the pillow next to mine, still sticking to his side of the bed.
"I...don't know what you mean." He responds, staring at the ceiling, strong arms behind his head and messing up the golden layers of his hair.
"I think you do..." I argue.
Silence. His chest moves slowly with every inhale and exhale of air but no words escape his mouth.
I'm bold with the next question; "When did we draw these lines?"
Fair, thick eyebrows furrow in thought and he turns on me, looking at me with question in his intimidating eyes. Nonetheless, I don't back down. Pandora 's Box has been opened.
"Lines?" He asks.
"Yes. These," I indicate at the bed and at the evident space between my body and his, "lines."
His gaze follows my hand and he examines the space, noticing only the clean white sheet cover of the mattress. His lips are taut in question and his expression is one of deep contemplation.
"There's a line?" he asks, his voice betraying his innocence.
"Yes. There is. There's always been one. It indicates your side and my side. We never cross it." I argue, glaring heatedly at the evident distance and the sheets covering it.
When I look at him, he isn't paying attention to the space but he's looking at me. If I didn't know Cloud any better, I would say he was fighting off a smile.
"Truthfully," he started, "I've never noticed it. I stay on this side so I don't bother you."
He says it like it's completely logical and that it has truly never even occurred to him. This hurts me more than I let on. But I tread further; I'm going to eradicate that border if it's the last thing I do.
"Bother me? Cloud...we're family. We share a home, we share a room and we share a bed. If I didn't want you to bother me, don't you think I'd never have agreed to any of that?" I'm getting a little heated and he's taking notice.
The corner of his mouth twitches before he speaks in a soft and defeated tone, "I know that..."
He always pulls the guilt out during our arguments; I've come to believe it's his defense mechanism against me. Granted, I don't think it's very effective.
"So why draw these...these invisible lines? Why can't you just be..." I catch myself before I let my emotions best me and say something I regret.
I'm blushing and secretly pray that he doesn't notice this. Flustered and feeling vulnerable, I turn my back on him and bring the sheets up to my chest, clutching them. The lines have the victory when my hand retreats from testing them. Two years and still, they exist. Still, neither of us crosses them.
"Why can't I be what? Help me understand, Tifa." His voice is desperate now; he doesn't want to fight.
He wants me to win but he just doesn't know how to concede defeat.
...why can't you just be a normal lover?
Had I really been about to say that to him? I hide my face deeper under the covers, knowing I was turning a deep shade of red and not wanting him to see it.
"I want these lines to...disappear. Make them disappear, Cloud. Two years is long enough..." My voice is quiet and barely audible but I'm sure he's heard.
I close my eyes, afraid of what I've just said and await the consequences. A few silent moments later, the bed shifts and I know he's gotten up. His weight is gone and the bed is even again. I hear his footsteps recede and I wonder at what I've done.
I was trying to remove that distance, destroy those borders and yet, by doing so, I've managed to make them stronger. I've done more damage and I wish I could have taken it all back. Why hadn't I just kept quiet?
"Tifa." When he speaks, his voice is so close.
My eyes fly open only to meet his blue gaze literally only a few centimetres away from me. He's crouching down next to the bed, right beside me and staring at me.
He looks away when he says, "I can't erase them. Not yet, anyways..."
I can't stop staring at him, still somewhat shocked by his sudden closeness. He meets my bewildered eyes and the corners of his mouth do twitch.
"But I can visit your side, every now and then." The blush I saw on him two years ago seems to have reappeared and this time, I am sure of its presence.
I lower the blankets from my face and I take it in; he doesn't realize it. He doesn't even know what he's done. He is completely unaware that he's removed them. Those borders on our bed, they are gone. I search for them, trying to feel them. But there is nothing. There is only him, looking up at me with a slightly reddened face and what I think is a smile.
I'm not convinced. So I test it.
My hand escapes its prison of bed sheets and my arm sneaks out, stretching towards his face. He glances at it but his eyes are on me again almost instantly, as if granting me permission to proceed. My fingers are tentative, shy, but they graze the side of his face slowly. His cheek is soft and warm and real.
When I pull back, I find myself smiling. I scoot over to his side of the bed and lift the covers up so that he can see me underneath, freeing up the space I had just been occupying.
"Then we'll just have to hide so that they don't notice us." I pat the part of the bed I had been laying on and indicate for him to join me.
He's hesitant at first and his blush has deepened. But his smile returns and his apprehension disappears as he crawls onto the bed to join me. It shifts with his added weight and when he's settled, I throw the covers over both of our heads, creating our own world where borders and lines do not exist. It's a small and simple notion, but it is a beginning for us. Underneath the sheets, their prying eyes cannot see how we have crossed them.
-Fin