Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 7 > Sable and ivory
A/N: I have to say a huge thank you to my reviewers. This chapter is my favorite so far, I hope you will like it as well.
The lyrics throughout the chapter belong to me, so the copyright is also mine. ;) The poem is called Enigma and I'd be VERY GLAD to learn what you think about it too. Oh, I really want to read the reviews on this chapter!
Me agape,
I sigrapheas!
--------------------
Chapter 6
The unknown factor
-------------------
Dusk.
Hope is trembling pitifully and the world is soon to crush.
Bits and pieces all around, holding a promise to cut.
Can your faint presence save me from the abrupt dash?
------------------------
Serious fights among men usually follow the same pattern. They begin with tentative punches to the face and walking in circles, while watching each other. Then, one of the two parties involved (usually the offended one) leaps and immediately chaos ensues. Shoving, arm-struggling, kicking; that's all part of the game.
Yet, there are exceptions. For instance, if the offended man is Vincent Valentine, holding a gun almost as long as his arm with three barrels, known as Cerberus, and the men it is currently pointed to have their hands roaming on little someone's bare hips and abdomen -and going up, as he barely registered with an eye twitch- then things are ugly.
And they are about to get uglier.
His hand was surprisingly steady and his naturally strong-looking jaw now looked like it was glued to the upper part of his head.
True, he was many things. Ex-Turk, assassin, monster. He had even done things in his life whose remembrance strengthened his belief that the demons in his head were a well-deserved punishment. He had committed crimes that could make strong fighters like Yuffie and Tifa have nightmares. But rape was never one of them.
The mere idea infuriated him.
And, unsettling though it was, in the case of Yuffie he was beyond infuriated and more near the edge of giving in to Chaos. He currently had to fight back the huge tide of energy that urged him to tear the bastards to pieces or turn them into a big, dirty lake of human pulp. He felt so wrathful, seeing the ninja so small and completely defenseless at the moment, being tainted by the hands of this scum. He didn't want to think of what could have happened had he not arrived in time. Because, for fucking Planet's sake, he couldn't bare having her touched by them or anybody else.
Huh?
'That was a stray thought. She can be touched by whomever she wants... But not unwillingly.'
His eyes wandered to where she was lying still, looking at him obviously relieved. There was dirt on her nose and her shirt was lifted to her ribcage. She was... vulnerable. He felt a small pang in where his heart and strongest human emotions used to be.
'Anger...'
Even though he had originally stridden there with every intention to drag the wandering ninja back and scold her, the image he was met with in the small alley made his blood run cold.
He gritted his teeth. If glares could kill, they would be in the torture chambers of the hottest pit of Hell already.
The four men that had frozen at the sound of the growled command, almost wetted themselves at the actual sight of the imposing dark-haired man. The one who was the furthest away from him, made a move to flee, panic engraved in his pale green eyes.
Bang.
A shot in the leg.
Vincent's gaze on them was burning. Two twin crimson lights glowed faintly in the dark. The injured man clutched his leg and squeezed above the open wound in his calf, not managing to stifle the loud gasps of pain emerging from his throat.
Vincent took a few heavy steps forward, his expression -and his gun- silently telling the terrified chickens before him that he wasn't exactly happy.
Namely, he was Royally Pissed.
------------------------------
Enigma,
Stranger with a name I like to utter,
Lover with no right to call my own,
Blind pain and joy, blood and ray of light to hold on.
There I see it, in its eerie, shaky glory.
-------------------------------
Yuffie could only watch as Vincent holstered back Cerberus and proceeded to attack hand to hand or, better, claw to hand. She couldn't help thinking that the way he was clutching his jaw, if he accidentally bit his tongue, he would cut it like a piece of ham.
What a pity she couldn't laugh at the image. She was still paralyzed.
And Vinnie looked so majestic and beautiful, as he concentrated on his blows. Not that there were any formidable opponents among her attackers. Hell, if she hadn't taken that drink, she would have taken them down on her own easily.
But really, she felt a tiny flutter somewhere near her stomach, as she watched him fight, his strong, harmonically arranged features set in a determined and grave way. So totally Vincent. He had only been striking for only a couple of minutes, before all four of them were unconscious on the ground, but she had the illusion that it had lasted for hours.
It was then that Yuffie had an epiphany.
If Vinnie was to be the savior, she actually didn't mind being the damsel in distress!
'At least this once... Better not forget my general Yuffieness.'
Yeah, besides... lesson learnt. If only she could show him how sorry she was.
She noticed that Vincent was looking at the pained bodies on the ground in distaste. They weren't dead, because he had somehow restrained his blows to be painful but not fatal. Yet, Yuffie realized that she didn't want them dead. She just wanted to get out of this place and go home, even if she had to eventually face Vincent's scolding for her actions. She would face it. As long as she was safe and at home with him, everything would be alright.
'But better not tell him that or he'll freak out. Oh shit, he probably thinks of what a nuisance I am and I'm sure he regrets that he agreed and-'
And she felt like crying. He wouldn't let her stay with him anymore. He'd stare at her disapprovingly and say in his coldest voice: "I have no time and patience for kids like you. Go back to your father."
Somehow, a small whimper escaped her numb lips. Her tear-filled eyes were fixed on his tall form, as if willing him with the force of telepathy to forgive her stupid antics.
Only... she knew she had no right to hope. Everything she had said and done was horrible. Plus, she was shaken to the core and unable to move a finger. The aftertaste of despair was still present in the back of her throat.
She was a mess and if she could, she would have kicked herself. Hard.
-------------------------------
He released the vicious hold of the blond guy's neck and the man fell noisily down on his knees, gasping for breath.
In the meantime, Vincent, not even breathing faster than normal, surveyed the damage coldly. All were on the ground, one was shot, two were unconscious, and the last was barely breathing.
'I'm getting soft,' he thought wryly.
Still, he would have killed them suite after, were it not for a tiny whimper from the direction of Yuffie.
Turning around, he eyed the girl and his expression immediately softened. He walked next to where she was and kneeled on her right.
He noticed that there was the faintest movement on her pale lips.
'So, the effect is wearing off...'
However, her eyes were still wide in fear and, when he half-lifted her limp body and rested her head on his elbow, confusion entered their dark depths as well.
Her weight was nothing compared to Cerberus, but the warmth from the back of her head and the thick chocolate brown locks seeped to his gloved human hand and the parts of his arm where the leather sleeve was pushed up. There was sweat on her brow and in small, shining droplets on her eyebrows and under her eyes.
But, no, wait. These looked more like tears.
Vincent, frowning, gently removed the bangs that fell on her already feverish face. With his claw, he carefully rolled down her shirt, avoiding contact with any of the creamy skin exposed. He saw a muscle or two starting to twitch, in her face and neck.
She was staring at him strangely. He felt that somehow she was surrendering herself to him, completely trusting him...
Vincent was afraid that continuing that thought at the moment would be hardly helpful, so he discarded it.
Her lips parted and she immediately struggled to croak something.
He leaned in, but all she managed was a small "Vinnie".
Some sort of dark humor flashed briefly in his eyes.
'Some things never change...'
But it was time to get the young woman home, so he took off his cloak and threw it on her, as he placed his claw under her legs and scooped her up, holding her close to his tall frame.
After all, it had been a close call, he thought as he set off.
-------------------------------
For a moment,
Before my clouded eyes the veil is gone
I can smell your aroma,
Drown in your soothing silence,
Listen for all I'm worth.
You hold the door open,
I crawl in your broken shelter,
And for a moment I am whole.
----------------------------
She couldn't believe what was happening. She was so drowsy and the whole thing so unreal that she wasn't exactly certain if she was awake, dreaming, or dead and gone to Paradise.
Not only had he skipped the lecturing and abandoning, he was actually carrying her back home in his arms. She was nestled somewhere between his upper chest and shoulder, distantly hearing his steady heartbeat. If she moved her head a little upwards, she could see his pale neck, Adam's apple and all, and if she tilted it back, she'd be looking straight at the corner and lower part of his jaw. She was glad to see it was unclenched.
In a daze, she distinguished under his chin a small scar, from a wound long ago healed. It was white, even in contrast with his skin. Not thinking overly clearly, she complied with the weird urge that suddenly emerged from somewhere deep inside her. Lifting her head, she brushed her lips over the small mark, and then parted them slightly to leave a short-lived kiss.
Vincent stiffened as he felt a very warm dampness under his chin, where he knew one of his many scars to be, a reminder of his days in the employment of ShinRa. Two soft, moist lips were burning his skin. Then there was a light breath fanning on his neck.
The little hairs in the back of his neck stood up in attention and very, very disturbingly, other body parts wanted to follow. He had to stop for a while and shut his eyes to keep his concentration. He definitely hadn't been expecting something like that. His sensations were assaulted in what could only be described as an almost violent way.
For an outsider, the situation would have been comical. There stood frozen a man with tightly shut crimson eyes, golden claw, pointy golden boots and red headband, with a girl in his arms as limp as a log, in the middle of the night.
But soon he regained his composure and Yuffie realized what she had done, for awkwardness had resumed around them.
However, he didn't push her away. If possible, he tightened his grip, always careful not to stab her with the deadly claw.
"Tomorrow we'll talk about what caused you to-" He stopped abruptly and peered over her, thoughtfully. He recalled the order in which her body parts had started to work again. "They slipped you a pill, am I correct?" he asked, hurriedly.
"Yes. How do you..." she trailed off, too worn out to finish.
"It... was part of the Turk training, to know about drugs."
He frowned suddenly and muttered to himself, "Pes-9B".
"Hn?"
"Let's go home and... I'll tell you about it tomorrow morning," he said unsteadily.
It was so unlike him that Yuffie felt a little worried.
Long, long strides... Soothing heartbeat... Thump thump... Thump thump... Warm, muscled body...
Slumber...
It wasn't much later that he had lain her on her bed. The room was almost dark and he figured that she had already fallen asleep. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.
He was turning to leave when Yuffie suddenly reached out and grabbed his belt.
Awkwardness?
Nah, scratch that.
An Aurora magnetic phenomenon.
"Yes, Yuffie?" he asked her warily, eyeing her hold on his belt uneasily.
She looked abashed and quickly retracted her stay hand to rest it on her chest. She was self-conscious but too damn tired to blush. As if the blood would comply anyway.
Fighting back the overwhelming need to sleep, she said, voice as earnest and sincere as she could muster, "...Sorry, Vince."
He nodded, pitch black bangs falling messily on his forehead and eyes.
His soothing baritone was the last thing she heard before sleep took over.
"Sleep well, Yuffie."
----------------------------
Sinner, Saint, Enigma,
Don't say a word, just look.
Look at this,
Your handiwork...
It is Dawn.
The lyrics throughout the chapter belong to me, so the copyright is also mine. ;) The poem is called Enigma and I'd be VERY GLAD to learn what you think about it too. Oh, I really want to read the reviews on this chapter!
Me agape,
I sigrapheas!
--------------------
Chapter 6
The unknown factor
-------------------
Dusk.
Hope is trembling pitifully and the world is soon to crush.
Bits and pieces all around, holding a promise to cut.
Can your faint presence save me from the abrupt dash?
------------------------
Serious fights among men usually follow the same pattern. They begin with tentative punches to the face and walking in circles, while watching each other. Then, one of the two parties involved (usually the offended one) leaps and immediately chaos ensues. Shoving, arm-struggling, kicking; that's all part of the game.
Yet, there are exceptions. For instance, if the offended man is Vincent Valentine, holding a gun almost as long as his arm with three barrels, known as Cerberus, and the men it is currently pointed to have their hands roaming on little someone's bare hips and abdomen -and going up, as he barely registered with an eye twitch- then things are ugly.
And they are about to get uglier.
His hand was surprisingly steady and his naturally strong-looking jaw now looked like it was glued to the upper part of his head.
True, he was many things. Ex-Turk, assassin, monster. He had even done things in his life whose remembrance strengthened his belief that the demons in his head were a well-deserved punishment. He had committed crimes that could make strong fighters like Yuffie and Tifa have nightmares. But rape was never one of them.
The mere idea infuriated him.
And, unsettling though it was, in the case of Yuffie he was beyond infuriated and more near the edge of giving in to Chaos. He currently had to fight back the huge tide of energy that urged him to tear the bastards to pieces or turn them into a big, dirty lake of human pulp. He felt so wrathful, seeing the ninja so small and completely defenseless at the moment, being tainted by the hands of this scum. He didn't want to think of what could have happened had he not arrived in time. Because, for fucking Planet's sake, he couldn't bare having her touched by them or anybody else.
Huh?
'That was a stray thought. She can be touched by whomever she wants... But not unwillingly.'
His eyes wandered to where she was lying still, looking at him obviously relieved. There was dirt on her nose and her shirt was lifted to her ribcage. She was... vulnerable. He felt a small pang in where his heart and strongest human emotions used to be.
'Anger...'
Even though he had originally stridden there with every intention to drag the wandering ninja back and scold her, the image he was met with in the small alley made his blood run cold.
He gritted his teeth. If glares could kill, they would be in the torture chambers of the hottest pit of Hell already.
The four men that had frozen at the sound of the growled command, almost wetted themselves at the actual sight of the imposing dark-haired man. The one who was the furthest away from him, made a move to flee, panic engraved in his pale green eyes.
Bang.
A shot in the leg.
Vincent's gaze on them was burning. Two twin crimson lights glowed faintly in the dark. The injured man clutched his leg and squeezed above the open wound in his calf, not managing to stifle the loud gasps of pain emerging from his throat.
Vincent took a few heavy steps forward, his expression -and his gun- silently telling the terrified chickens before him that he wasn't exactly happy.
Namely, he was Royally Pissed.
------------------------------
Enigma,
Stranger with a name I like to utter,
Lover with no right to call my own,
Blind pain and joy, blood and ray of light to hold on.
There I see it, in its eerie, shaky glory.
-------------------------------
Yuffie could only watch as Vincent holstered back Cerberus and proceeded to attack hand to hand or, better, claw to hand. She couldn't help thinking that the way he was clutching his jaw, if he accidentally bit his tongue, he would cut it like a piece of ham.
What a pity she couldn't laugh at the image. She was still paralyzed.
And Vinnie looked so majestic and beautiful, as he concentrated on his blows. Not that there were any formidable opponents among her attackers. Hell, if she hadn't taken that drink, she would have taken them down on her own easily.
But really, she felt a tiny flutter somewhere near her stomach, as she watched him fight, his strong, harmonically arranged features set in a determined and grave way. So totally Vincent. He had only been striking for only a couple of minutes, before all four of them were unconscious on the ground, but she had the illusion that it had lasted for hours.
It was then that Yuffie had an epiphany.
If Vinnie was to be the savior, she actually didn't mind being the damsel in distress!
'At least this once... Better not forget my general Yuffieness.'
Yeah, besides... lesson learnt. If only she could show him how sorry she was.
She noticed that Vincent was looking at the pained bodies on the ground in distaste. They weren't dead, because he had somehow restrained his blows to be painful but not fatal. Yet, Yuffie realized that she didn't want them dead. She just wanted to get out of this place and go home, even if she had to eventually face Vincent's scolding for her actions. She would face it. As long as she was safe and at home with him, everything would be alright.
'But better not tell him that or he'll freak out. Oh shit, he probably thinks of what a nuisance I am and I'm sure he regrets that he agreed and-'
And she felt like crying. He wouldn't let her stay with him anymore. He'd stare at her disapprovingly and say in his coldest voice: "I have no time and patience for kids like you. Go back to your father."
Somehow, a small whimper escaped her numb lips. Her tear-filled eyes were fixed on his tall form, as if willing him with the force of telepathy to forgive her stupid antics.
Only... she knew she had no right to hope. Everything she had said and done was horrible. Plus, she was shaken to the core and unable to move a finger. The aftertaste of despair was still present in the back of her throat.
She was a mess and if she could, she would have kicked herself. Hard.
-------------------------------
He released the vicious hold of the blond guy's neck and the man fell noisily down on his knees, gasping for breath.
In the meantime, Vincent, not even breathing faster than normal, surveyed the damage coldly. All were on the ground, one was shot, two were unconscious, and the last was barely breathing.
'I'm getting soft,' he thought wryly.
Still, he would have killed them suite after, were it not for a tiny whimper from the direction of Yuffie.
Turning around, he eyed the girl and his expression immediately softened. He walked next to where she was and kneeled on her right.
He noticed that there was the faintest movement on her pale lips.
'So, the effect is wearing off...'
However, her eyes were still wide in fear and, when he half-lifted her limp body and rested her head on his elbow, confusion entered their dark depths as well.
Her weight was nothing compared to Cerberus, but the warmth from the back of her head and the thick chocolate brown locks seeped to his gloved human hand and the parts of his arm where the leather sleeve was pushed up. There was sweat on her brow and in small, shining droplets on her eyebrows and under her eyes.
But, no, wait. These looked more like tears.
Vincent, frowning, gently removed the bangs that fell on her already feverish face. With his claw, he carefully rolled down her shirt, avoiding contact with any of the creamy skin exposed. He saw a muscle or two starting to twitch, in her face and neck.
She was staring at him strangely. He felt that somehow she was surrendering herself to him, completely trusting him...
Vincent was afraid that continuing that thought at the moment would be hardly helpful, so he discarded it.
Her lips parted and she immediately struggled to croak something.
He leaned in, but all she managed was a small "Vinnie".
Some sort of dark humor flashed briefly in his eyes.
'Some things never change...'
But it was time to get the young woman home, so he took off his cloak and threw it on her, as he placed his claw under her legs and scooped her up, holding her close to his tall frame.
After all, it had been a close call, he thought as he set off.
-------------------------------
For a moment,
Before my clouded eyes the veil is gone
I can smell your aroma,
Drown in your soothing silence,
Listen for all I'm worth.
You hold the door open,
I crawl in your broken shelter,
And for a moment I am whole.
----------------------------
She couldn't believe what was happening. She was so drowsy and the whole thing so unreal that she wasn't exactly certain if she was awake, dreaming, or dead and gone to Paradise.
Not only had he skipped the lecturing and abandoning, he was actually carrying her back home in his arms. She was nestled somewhere between his upper chest and shoulder, distantly hearing his steady heartbeat. If she moved her head a little upwards, she could see his pale neck, Adam's apple and all, and if she tilted it back, she'd be looking straight at the corner and lower part of his jaw. She was glad to see it was unclenched.
In a daze, she distinguished under his chin a small scar, from a wound long ago healed. It was white, even in contrast with his skin. Not thinking overly clearly, she complied with the weird urge that suddenly emerged from somewhere deep inside her. Lifting her head, she brushed her lips over the small mark, and then parted them slightly to leave a short-lived kiss.
Vincent stiffened as he felt a very warm dampness under his chin, where he knew one of his many scars to be, a reminder of his days in the employment of ShinRa. Two soft, moist lips were burning his skin. Then there was a light breath fanning on his neck.
The little hairs in the back of his neck stood up in attention and very, very disturbingly, other body parts wanted to follow. He had to stop for a while and shut his eyes to keep his concentration. He definitely hadn't been expecting something like that. His sensations were assaulted in what could only be described as an almost violent way.
For an outsider, the situation would have been comical. There stood frozen a man with tightly shut crimson eyes, golden claw, pointy golden boots and red headband, with a girl in his arms as limp as a log, in the middle of the night.
But soon he regained his composure and Yuffie realized what she had done, for awkwardness had resumed around them.
However, he didn't push her away. If possible, he tightened his grip, always careful not to stab her with the deadly claw.
"Tomorrow we'll talk about what caused you to-" He stopped abruptly and peered over her, thoughtfully. He recalled the order in which her body parts had started to work again. "They slipped you a pill, am I correct?" he asked, hurriedly.
"Yes. How do you..." she trailed off, too worn out to finish.
"It... was part of the Turk training, to know about drugs."
He frowned suddenly and muttered to himself, "Pes-9B".
"Hn?"
"Let's go home and... I'll tell you about it tomorrow morning," he said unsteadily.
It was so unlike him that Yuffie felt a little worried.
Long, long strides... Soothing heartbeat... Thump thump... Thump thump... Warm, muscled body...
Slumber...
It wasn't much later that he had lain her on her bed. The room was almost dark and he figured that she had already fallen asleep. Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose wearily.
He was turning to leave when Yuffie suddenly reached out and grabbed his belt.
Awkwardness?
Nah, scratch that.
An Aurora magnetic phenomenon.
"Yes, Yuffie?" he asked her warily, eyeing her hold on his belt uneasily.
She looked abashed and quickly retracted her stay hand to rest it on her chest. She was self-conscious but too damn tired to blush. As if the blood would comply anyway.
Fighting back the overwhelming need to sleep, she said, voice as earnest and sincere as she could muster, "...Sorry, Vince."
He nodded, pitch black bangs falling messily on his forehead and eyes.
His soothing baritone was the last thing she heard before sleep took over.
"Sleep well, Yuffie."
----------------------------
Sinner, Saint, Enigma,
Don't say a word, just look.
Look at this,
Your handiwork...
It is Dawn.
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