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Tifa rolled over lazily, her left arm stretching out, searching for Cloud’s body on the right side of the bed. Normally, Cloud slept on the left side and she on the right, but last night they hadn’t exactly used the bed for sleeping. She wasn’t even sure what time they had finally fallen asleep—considering she had passed out the moment Cloud placed his hand on her stomach, hugging her from behind.
Her fingers brushed the warm skin of his bicep. She smiled before hooking her fingers into the muscle and dragging his body closer until she was pressed fully against him. Her breasts and stomach collided with his back, and only then did she realize Cloud was facing the window. Tifa pressed her lips to his shoulder and left a kiss on his skin, which made Cloud shift under her touch.
“Good morning,” Tifa whispered against the shell of his ear.
Who would have thought that Cloud Strife had ticklish spots behind his ear? He hunched his shoulder, pulling his face away from that spot while both of them let out a soft laugh.
“Hey…” Tifa protested, climbing onto his broad back to see his profile.
Cloud took Tifa’s hand from his side with his own, intertwining their fingers over the back of her hand. Their rings clinked and caught the sunlight, sparkling. It reminded Tifa why they weren’t actually at home—why they hadn’t woken up to Denzel bursting through the door, jumping on the tips of his toes to wake them.
They weren’t at home. Denzel was temporarily staying with Barret and Marlene. And the two of them were in a hotel in Costa del Sol.
“I didn’t know you were ticklish,” she smiled before burying her face again in that spot on his neck.
Cloud hunched again, accidentally hitting Tifa’s cheekbone with the bone of his shoulder. Before Tifa could protest or even bring her hand to her face to touch the sore spot, he opened his arm, rolled over in the bed, and ended up facing her.
“You almost never wake me up, and I try to avoid breathing there, so that’s why you didn’t know.”
Cloud’s right hand gently landed on her cheek; the pad of his thumb softly caressed her cheekbone where he had hit her with his shoulder.
“I’m sorry. You caught me off guard,” he whispered, genuinely concerned about having hurt her.
Tifa shook her head, clicking her tongue, trying to ignore the fact that Cloud Strife was here with her in a bed in a hotel in Costa del Sol, wearing a ring on the ring finger of his left hand that matched hers, or that his eyes admired her as if she were the entire universe.
“The soldier who defeated Sephiroth has tickles?” she teased, letting out a laugh.
Cloud made a sound—the one he only made when he was thinking about how to tease her back. His eyes narrowed, and his lips pressed into a thin line.
“And you? I’m pretty sure Denzel told me you’re ticklish.”
Tifa shook her head, pressing her lips together to keep from laughing. Of course Denzel knew she had a weakness on her sides—he had improved his relationship with her after the Geostigma. After all, Denzel was still a child and had already lost enough innocence. She had started playing with him, trying to give back some of the happiness he had brought her.
Things would never have gotten better if Denzel hadn’t appeared.
They needed each other. They needed to give affection. Denzel needed a place, a home. They had an extra room, food, and love to offer.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she lied, pulling away from him a little.
“Oh, you know exactly what I’m talking about.”
Cloud hooked his hand around her waist and pulled her beneath him. Tifa burst into laughter when the tips of his fingers touched the sensitive skin just below her ribs. She tried to push him away with her hands on his shoulders, pressing upward, but Cloud was stronger than her—or at least he was now, because he was moving the tips of his fingers along her sides, making her explode into giggles.
“Tifa Lockhart is ticklish?” he asked with obvious sarcasm.
She laughed even harder when his hand slid up her side, sending electricity through her entire body, making the muscles in her arms fail as she tried to push him away. She tucked her arms against her sides, trapping his movements.
“Enough, I surrender,” she said between laughs and giggles.
The air was starting to run out after laughing so much; she felt like she would soon have to fight just to breathe, but she trusted Cloud—she trusted him blindly. They hadn’t gone through hell and back for him not to know when to stop. If he ever did, she wouldn’t be married to him right now, naked beneath him, completely at his mercy.
Cloud lowered his hands along her sides, stopping the sensation in her body. He cupped her waist between his hands and pulled her with him as he rolled onto his back on the bed. Their lips met.
Tifa closed her eyes, returning his kiss, cupping his cheek in the palm of her hand, resting her chest against his. When they separated, Tifa breathed heavily, pressing her forehead against his.
“Good morning, Teef.”
Cloud left a kiss on her cheek, moved up, and left another on the top of her head before getting out of bed, leaving her alone in a bed much larger than the one they had at home.
“Come back to bed. It’s still early.”
Cloud let out a laugh.
“It’s almost noon. Denzel will be here in an hour. We have to shower and get presentable.”
Cloud found his clothes in one of the drawers, selecting what he was going to wear while she rubbed herself against the warmth of the sheets Cloud had left behind. She ended up lying on his side, resting her cheek on his pillow, her eyes fixed on the window.
The sun was high in the sky. Denzel was surely excited in his own way, coming down from Corel on his way here to spend the afternoon with them. Though this was their honeymoon, Cloud and she had agreed to let Denzel spend the afternoons with them this week—because officially, they had adopted him. Yesterday they hadn’t just signed marriage papers; they had also signed for custody of their son.
If they were honest, they wouldn’t have gotten married so formally if it hadn’t been a strict requirement for Denzel to carry their last names and to ensure everyone knew he was no longer a street child—he was their son.
“Come on, get up…”
When her focus returned to reality, Cloud was already dressed, kneeling on the floor so he was level with Tifa’s face.
“Can you believe Denzel is our son?” she let out a soft laugh, seeking physical contact with him. “Did you ever think we would have a child like this?”
Cloud met Tifa halfway, and their hands joined in the air.
“No… I never thought I would end up with you, or with Denzel, or living through anything that happened in the last year…” His Mako eyes looked at her with such intensity that, even though she was naked, it made her feel even more exposed to him. “There was a time I believed I wouldn’t live past that day.”
She hated those months when Cloud had distanced himself so much. She hated not having been with him all those nights when the fever tormented him and surely made him hallucinate like it did with Denzel—when the pain was unbearable and he had no one by his side to comfort him. She would have given anything to be with him during those days.
She…
“But now I’m here, Teef,” he released her hand, cupped her cheek again in his palm, stroking her cheekbone.
Tifa took his hand on her face and pressed it closer. Absorbing his touch, letting herself be carried by the warmth of his skin, the security and firmness, by the calming energy he now radiated. A couple of years ago, it hadn’t been like that.
Cloud Strife had emanated anything but peace and tranquility.
“Never leave me again, Cloud Strife. Never leave us again,” she said, turning her face to leave a kiss against the palm of his hand.
“Yesterday I promised you in front of all our friends. I promised both of you,” Cloud sat on the edge of the bed, leaning forward. “And I’m telling you again now.”
His eyes turned blue. Tifa smiled before wrapping her arms around Cloud’s neck, pulling his body closer to hers. It made him kneel on the bed and support all his weight on his other hand so he wouldn’t crush her.
“I love you, Teef,” he left a tender kiss at the corner of her lips. “You and that boy who refused to get attached to us.”
Tifa wrinkled her nose and rolled her eyes. Denzel had refused to get attached to her—not to Cloud… but eventually he realized that Tifa was the most patient person alive, that she had accepted him without even having seen him. Denzel understood that Tifa was the mother he now had and wanted.
“I’m not going anywhere, because my life is no longer just mine. It belongs to you and to Denzel. I’m yours in this life and the next…”
“And I’m yours. I love you, Cloud Strife.”
Tifa pressed her lips to his. Cloud’s lips parted and closed when he caught her lower lip between his. An electric current discharged into her heart; her heartbeat accelerated, her cheeks flushed, and she was pretty sure Cloud’s heart swelled too. He had gotten a little better with words and expressing what was in his chest and soul. A year ago, he would have wished she could read his mind so she would know that Tifa Lockhart wasn’t an option—she was his reason, his motivation, his north star.
She still was… but now he didn’t have to search for her anymore. He didn’t have to win her. She was already his, and she would never be anyone else’s.
How could she be?
No one had done everything Cloud Strife had proven—not talking about defeating Sephiroth twice, not talking about joining SOLDIER to become a worthy man or a hero.
She was talking about his sweetness, that soft part of him that was gentle with her, the part that tried to be a calm person without revenge, that sought to live, that sought peace. And he had found it. It was wherever she and Denzel were.
Cloud pulled away from her, leaving her wanting more.
“Get up. Denzel will be here soon, and we don’t want to give him trauma.”
Tifa burst out laughing, grabbed the pillow from her side, and threw it at his back.
“I love you too, Teef.”
Cloud had found his place on this planet. She wouldn’t allow that home to be taken from him, and Denzel had a family again.