Cloud x Tifa - Pulse (FFVII)

Pulse

Pulse

The first time he felt the pulse, he had been twelve.

It wasn't the first time that he felt the magnets throb and pull him in her direction; that had been happening since he was at least seven or eight or maybe even younger. But then, he'd been too shy and afraid to even go near her, much less think that those feelings actually meant anything. And when she fell and almost died, him tumbling helplessly behind her, his bashfulness and fear became couched in inadequacy and shame.

But this was different. This feeling was visceral, had his throat constricting, had him feeling choked as his heartbeat began to rise. It was the evening of the middle school dance, and he was standing at the farthest corner of the gym with his back to the wall, clinging to the shadows as some backwater tune blared from the speakers overhead. He really didn't want to be here, but his mother had encouraged him to attend, wanting him to make friends, hoping it would keep him out of trouble.

It didn't.

He saw her that night, not long after the dance had started. The other students were dancing in groups or couples, some sitting in the bleachers chattering through the echoes of the music. But Tifa was standing in the center of a small group of boys, boys he knew had been her friends for years, all of them pouring their attention on her as she smiled and giggled. He swallowed thickly when she turned to him, dark crimson eyes focusing on his face from across the room, and his back began to sweat when she ran in his direction.

"Let's dance!" she suggested, more of a command than a request, her voice soft and light, and before he could run out of the gym in terror, she reached for his wrist and pulled him away from the wall, innocently moving to the rhythm of the folksy tune. His throat was suddenly sore, and he was unable to do anything but stand there, staring motionless as she danced and laughed and enjoyed herself.

But he couldn't move away from her, and even though he didn't know it then, it was that magnetic pulse that was keeping him drawn to her.

That entrancing feeling stayed with him for the next two years, clogging up his windpipes and leaving him feeling parched anytime he ran into her after school or saw her outside of their houses. He couldn't keep her off of his mind, her dark hair and glimmering vermillion eyes burned onto the back of his mind, embarrassing him every time he left a wet, sticky mess in his bed, waking to try to get rid of it before his mother saw.

It was really bad the night he called her up to the water tower - he'd been feeling like he was suffocating all day, practicing over and over again what he was going to say to her. When she finally joined him up there, wearing that pretty sleeveless dress with her hair dark and full, her eyes bright and doe-eyed, her legs long and her skin radiating a clean, sweet aroma, he was shaking, trying to remember over and over again how to breathe.

He rushed through his words, wanting to keep it short, his brain fizzling as he quickly began to feel overwhelmed. But then she was leaning over, asking him to make her a promise, and his voice was so choked that he could scarcely respond.

Weeks later, he left the village for good, but that thirst, that longing, that deep-seated pulsating need never left. She was on his mind almost every waking hour after that, when he'd packed his bags and rode the dusty transports across the continents to Midgar, when he'd walked through those dark, imposing city streets, when he entered the barracks for basic training. Every moment had been driven by her, a need to impress her, to show her that he was strong and that he would never fail her again the way that he had that day in the mountains.

Unfortunately, his own weaknesses caught up to him, and he never made it into SOLDIER, horrified when he realized he was being sent back to their hometown without having achieved what he set out to do to make her realize he was worthy of her.