Apr 29, 2008 18:36
It's silly: he's knocked at this door more than once since his return and there hasn't been any answer; he has no reason to believe that Tifa is anywhere but back in Midgar. It's where she was when he left for the Western continent and if there's any justice at all in this universe, it's where she is right now. He hasn't seen her the few times he's been at the bar; he hasn't seen her when he's been outside although... it's hard to see somebody from the depth of the forest. It's just... there hasn't been very good reason to be sociable. He's used to solitude; he's used to accounting for his time only to himself and, occasionally, to Lucrecia.
She doesn't really listen, though.
At the end of the day, he's... still Vincent and as long as Chaos is held at bay, he considers himself still human. And humans are social creatures and it's been some time since he was among friends. As much as any other man, he misses the people he knows even though he prefers to be alone. That's what he tells himself, at least and so... if that's true... why is he standing outside the door to Tifa's room, his back against the wall, as if she's going to miraculously appear?
Because he's lonely, but admitting that is... weak and... needy and... he already has enough to repent for. He has zero desire to be a burden of any kind at all to Tifa or to any of his friends and perhaps he clings to the idea of Tifa because she was a familiar sight in a strange and new place. But she's not here now and standing by her room is futile and more than a little pathetic; shaking his head, he turns to go.
He gets five paces down the hall before he turns back, makes his way with determined steps to her door, lifts his hand, and knocks.
He has absolutely nothing to lose but hope.