Cloud x Tifa - Nightcall (You're a Real Hero) FFVII

Nightcall (You're a Real Hero)

Nightcall (You're a Real Hero)

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CLOUD & TIFA

[ ν ] - εγλ - 2014 | August 10 th

Cloud ran a gloved hand across his temple as Fenrir's engine died down from a roar to a silent hum beneath him, pulling the sweat from his brow and flinging a sloppy ring of it wet to the floor. He realized how long he had been at the roads and how tired and spent he was. Not to mention his body was sore and aching from fighting Bandits and Cappawires in the Midgar Wasteland on his way home from his delivery in Junon.

After parking in the garage, Cloud dropped the bike's kickstand and made his way through the back door of Seventh Heaven, entering the rear of the building near the kitchen. It was suspiciously quiet as he strode down the dark hallway, especially for a Friday night, just after nine in the evening. As he entered the bar, he was surprised to find that the entire dining room was empty, and the front gate was pulled down outside of the door, the Sorry, We're Closed sign hanging in the window. He scratched the back of his head in confusion; Fridays were Tifa's busiest night, and she never closed early.

Cloud stood at the bar, strumming his gloved fingers across the dark wood as he considered the situation, wondering if Tifa was upstairs. He was hungry, though, and pondered if there were leftovers he could warm before heading up to the living quarters for the night.

Just as he was starting to move for the kitchen, Tifa appeared in the doorway behind the bar, silently descending from the staircase. Her hair, a rope of long, dark silk, was tied back with a blue ribbon, and her body was wrapped in a cadet blue, terrycloth bathrobe that stopped at her knees, soft and plush against her skin. She offered him a small, coy smile when their eyes connected across the room.

Cloud swallowed slowly when he caught sight of her, not expecting her to show up half-naked, tipping her head to one side as she regarded him diffidently. Her eyes were sparkling at him, ruby red gems that drank him in as she began to saunter across the room towards him.

"Hungry?" she asked quietly, stopping to stand right in front of him, and Cloud looked down to see the swell of her breasts under her robe.

"Yeah, but... Tifa, why are you dressed like that down here?" He looked around as if he were afraid he might catch someone watching them. "What if the kids find you like this?"

"Shh..." Tifa pressed a finger to his lips, effectively silencing him, and he felt her bring her free hand up to his waist, giving him a gentle shove towards the nearest barstool, pushing him to sit. "The kids aren't here. Cid and Barret picked them up a few hours ago, they're staying with Cid and Shera for the weekend."

"Really...?" Cloud asked, studying her face, his eyes landing on her lips, his right hand coming up to her waist, fingertips brushing against the belt of her robe. "Why's the bar closed so early?"

Tifa took a step closer to him, dropping a hand to his hair, running her fingers gently through his soft, pale golden locks. "Your birthday is tomorrow, silly," she told him, causing him to lean against her hand as she dragged her fingernails across his scalp. "I thought we could start celebrating a little early."

Cloud let out a slow breath, carefully pulling on the belt at her waist, gently unraveling it, letting it drop to the sides at her hips. He slid his hand inside of the fabric of her robe, the cool leather of his glove finding her skin and pressing against the dip at her waist. "You didn't have to do that," he whispered, looking up at her, his eyes meeting hers as his palm caressed the slight swell of her belly, four months pregnant with his child, his fingers splaying across her firm flesh. "How's the baby?"