Final Fantasy One-Shots

FFVII | Vincent Valentine x Reader

Theme Prompt - Nightmares

The only window in the room was open.

The curtains hung slightly ajar, the thin, gauzy fabric swishing quietly as moonlight cut through the glass, frosting the air inside. The sky beyond the glass was darkened with swathes of midnight, a bone-white crescent hanging low on the horizon. Darkness tiptoed along the rooftops of the adjacent buildings, twisting the shadows into a strange circus of illusions.

Dragging your eyes away from the window, you returned your attention to the man lying across the bed you were currently resting on the edge of. His pale skin, aglow and lucid in the moonlight, was bathed in a sheen of sweat. His eyes were dark and his lashes cast long shadows over his cheeks. He muttered another quiet moan as you wrung out the cloth and pressed it back against his forehead, cooling his skin.

He was dreaming again. Every couple of nights he had them, fragments of his troubled past haunting his mind in the shape of nightmares. You were never quite sure what they were about. Every time you asked, he said the dream was already slipping away, like sand through his fingers, spiralling out of his grasp. But you never believed him; you always assumed he just didn't want to tell you.

You know all about Chaos. About Hojo and Lucretcia. You knew a lot of things about Vincent's past. But you never tried to understand, never pretended to understand, the pain he went through, the torment, the agony of everything he had lived through, everyone he had left behind.

But you did what you could to help him. You were always there to calm him down when his nightmares spooked him. Most of the time you didn't talk; you just sat in the darkened room, filling the silence with your slow, even breathing until he composed himself again.

Your presence meant more to him than you'd ever realised. When you were there, he could separate the past from the present, distinguish nightmare from reality. You provided the stability he needed, that stopped him from succumbing so easily to his demons.

Listening to him slur in his sleep, you reached over and brushed his hair out of his eyes, fingers tracing the smooth curves of his face, feeling the hardened scars beneath the skin. He stirred in response, then a few seconds later opened his eyes. You snatched your hand back quickly, feeling embarrassed. "Hey," you said evenly as he pulled himself upright, raking a hand through his ebony hair. You took the cloth as it tumbled onto the bed and set it aside.

"Hi," he mumbled, his voice low and gritty with sleep. "Was I dreaming?"

You merely nodded, gathering your cloak and standing up to leave, but his fingers closed around your sleeve, making you pause. "Stay." That's all he said, one word, spoken like a reflex. But it was enough to make your heart jolt and your cheeks flush as you sat back down on the edge of the bed, pulling your knees up to your chin and resting your feet against the frame.

"Are you... okay?"

The man grunted, pulling his knees up to his chest. He slept with no covers and still in his sabatons, as if waiting to be attacked at any moment. He'd grown up knowing nothing but violence and danger; his whole life revolved around fighting. You were the only peace in his life, which is why he learned to treasure these lonely nights he spent with you.

"Sorry if I woke you."

You shrugged, waved him off. "I was already awake," you lied. His brows furrowed slightly, but didn't say anything else. Instead, he leaned back, eyes on the ceiling, flickering to you every few seconds as you stared into the shadows bruising the edges of the room.

"You don't have to stay."

You turned your head slightly, tucking a loose piece of hair behind your ear, and smiled. "I know."

And that was it, no more words spoken between you, only sad looks and sad smiles. Sometimes you ended up sitting with him until dawn, falling asleep curled up on the end of his bed or fending off sleep by watching the streets outside transform under the illusion of moonlight.

But he was grateful knowing that you always stayed with him.

***

A month later and Vincent still has his nightmares. He still wakes up in a cold sweat with his breaths tumbling quickly out of his mouth, sometimes with a tear or two sitting in the corner of his eye but never falling. He'll look at the edge of the bed and expect to see you sitting there, your fingers gently brushing his face, a smile on your lips, a smile that can fix anything.

Only the room feels cold and still, because it turns out you aren't there. Not anymore.

And then he remembers that you're gone. That you're gone for good.

And now Vincent feels lonelier than ever. He feels more like a monster than he ever has before.

A month later and he still has his nightmares.

But now those nightmares are about you.

A/N - Calling all Vincent fans! I have a Vinnie fanfic up on my profile called 'Infernal Devices' and would be sooo grateful if you could check it out! Thanks :)