And This Is How We Part (FF7:DoC [PG])
Title: And This Is How We Part
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG
Characters: Rufus/Tifa
Summary: "You've become predictable, Miss Lockhart."
Notes: I honestly don't know what's happening here (I just wrote it spur of the moment and it kind of has the feel like there's a story behind it I think ^^); but it goes with the assumption that Tifa and Rufus had something going on between them (however that occurred, again, I don't know).
Maybe it's the way she turns so cold. Or maybe it's the way she looks at him with such disappointment.
"I thought you were different," is all she says and his heart plummets. "But you're not."
And that's all there is to it. Being who he is he can't say he's sorry, can't take back his words, his actions--can't take it all back and set the slate clean. Instead he smirks sardonically and raises his glass to her in a mocking toast. "A fool's belief; I thought you were smarter," he quips. His words burn with acid and her back sets immovably straight.
"Seventh Heaven's beautiful Tifa Lockhart; great warrior of AVALANCHE and hero of the JENOVA War." The words click together like bullets sliding into the chamber of a gun. One after another, in slick and smooth--and steely cold. He looks away and knocks back his drink, gazing out the panoramic window of his office with disinterested eyes. "Good to see it's all just tripe and fairytales."
On the inside he burns a bit. This should have never happened; they should have never run into one another again. Their prior times during Sephiroth's reign had been more than enough. And yet they had. And here they were. It made him laugh. So pathetic--the both of them. Perhaps him more than her.
"At least I'm not a coward who takes advantage of others' hospitality," she spits out in a low hiss. Her fists clench. He's seen her break walls with those fists; for the space of a moment he ponders on what they could do to his head. It would leave a fearful mess, that is a fact. But she's had numerous chances before to do something; she won't now, he's certain. And it just makes him smirk wider in an unkind, heartless way.
"You've become predictable, Miss Lockhart." And it's back to last names. Back to the cold distance of formality. "If not it wouldn't have been so easy." He tilts his glass a fraction and the ice within clinks together, accenting his words.
"You--" And Tifa is mad, is angry; burns with a slow heated fury that's terrifying and beautiful. She goes to the door and stands there--back straight as ever with all that damn pride no one could ever break (and he admires that back, admires that pride; he knows the same burden)--silent in her fury. "I better not see you at Seventh Heaven again," she threatens finally. "Stay away from my family."
The door slams behind her so hard the walls rattle and a picture frame clatters to the floor when she leaves. Alone in the room Rufus takes one last sip of his drink, emptying the glass. "Only when business compels me to," he agrees in the muteness that's descended on the scene.
He and Tifa; they won't be seeing one another again in such easy fashion. Of that he is certain. Heh...it feels like he has a rock in his chest in place of a heart. And perhaps he does--coal or maybe it's just forever frozen ice. Who knows?
Who cares?
Fandom: Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus
Rating: PG
Characters: Rufus/Tifa
Summary: "You've become predictable, Miss Lockhart."
Notes: I honestly don't know what's happening here (I just wrote it spur of the moment and it kind of has the feel like there's a story behind it I think ^^); but it goes with the assumption that Tifa and Rufus had something going on between them (however that occurred, again, I don't know).
Maybe it's the way she turns so cold. Or maybe it's the way she looks at him with such disappointment.
"I thought you were different," is all she says and his heart plummets. "But you're not."
And that's all there is to it. Being who he is he can't say he's sorry, can't take back his words, his actions--can't take it all back and set the slate clean. Instead he smirks sardonically and raises his glass to her in a mocking toast. "A fool's belief; I thought you were smarter," he quips. His words burn with acid and her back sets immovably straight.
"Seventh Heaven's beautiful Tifa Lockhart; great warrior of AVALANCHE and hero of the JENOVA War." The words click together like bullets sliding into the chamber of a gun. One after another, in slick and smooth--and steely cold. He looks away and knocks back his drink, gazing out the panoramic window of his office with disinterested eyes. "Good to see it's all just tripe and fairytales."
On the inside he burns a bit. This should have never happened; they should have never run into one another again. Their prior times during Sephiroth's reign had been more than enough. And yet they had. And here they were. It made him laugh. So pathetic--the both of them. Perhaps him more than her.
"At least I'm not a coward who takes advantage of others' hospitality," she spits out in a low hiss. Her fists clench. He's seen her break walls with those fists; for the space of a moment he ponders on what they could do to his head. It would leave a fearful mess, that is a fact. But she's had numerous chances before to do something; she won't now, he's certain. And it just makes him smirk wider in an unkind, heartless way.
"You've become predictable, Miss Lockhart." And it's back to last names. Back to the cold distance of formality. "If not it wouldn't have been so easy." He tilts his glass a fraction and the ice within clinks together, accenting his words.
"You--" And Tifa is mad, is angry; burns with a slow heated fury that's terrifying and beautiful. She goes to the door and stands there--back straight as ever with all that damn pride no one could ever break (and he admires that back, admires that pride; he knows the same burden)--silent in her fury. "I better not see you at Seventh Heaven again," she threatens finally. "Stay away from my family."
The door slams behind her so hard the walls rattle and a picture frame clatters to the floor when she leaves. Alone in the room Rufus takes one last sip of his drink, emptying the glass. "Only when business compels me to," he agrees in the muteness that's descended on the scene.
He and Tifa; they won't be seeing one another again in such easy fashion. Of that he is certain. Heh...it feels like he has a rock in his chest in place of a heart. And perhaps he does--coal or maybe it's just forever frozen ice. Who knows?
Who cares?