Don't Play With Fire (Turks FFVII)

XXX) Stains in the Carpet

I'm sick again when I wake up, dizzy and disgusting. I'm home now, so at least there's that. Still, I'm not sure I want to go back to the long, boring days of waiting around for something to happen. Even Rufus seems bored out of his mind when I see him in passing. I splash my face with cold water to wake myself up, staring hard at my reflection under the harsh bathroom lights. I look paler than ever; the dark, puffy circles under my eyes look more like remnants of a beating than bags.

Despite that, I can't help but see Tseng's face in my own, reflecting in the sharp angles and deep shadows. The eyes... Elmyra said they're the same. I sigh, feeling a little stupid when I stand on my toes to get a closer look. Dark, dark, dark. They're not even the same color, but even the way I look back at myself holds the same coldness he did. I shiver, feeling my head grow fuzzy and light, but I can't look away. What is it?

~|~|~|~|~

"Where are you taking me?" I demand, watching Tyler lock my cell behind him. He doesn't answer, shoving a bag into my chest and motioning for me to follow him down the bright hallway.

We've stopped talking since he was caught subjecting me to his twisted research. What I thought was love wasn't it after all; I was only being used again. Still, they don't say anything about him. I can speak his name and I can recall his face without that painful sting in my chest. Why can't I forget him? No answer. Sighing, I hurry to catch up, refusing to look at other personnel that pass by.

"Tyler!"

"You're being pulled for a few days for family."

"Family?" I repeat. He doesn't look back, punching in a passcode and swiping his keycard through the slot. The door clicks, sliding open. "You mean Sonyeh?"

"Yes."

Without another word, Tyler motions for me to enter the lobby. A tall, slender woman stands with a graceful smile that reaches her lively gray eyes. She tucks a strand of her long, dark hair behind her ear and clutches a purse to her other side.

"Thank you, Dr. Marx."

"Mhm." Tyler adjusts his glasses, his expression deadly serious. "Be careful, Miss Kisaragi."

"Of course." Sonyeh turns back to me, her smile only growing. "Well, let's get you home, yeah?"

I frown, squeezing the bag tighter to my chest. "Home?" Something inside the bag shifts, leaving an empty space that crinkles closer to my skin. It smells like cheap soap. Sonyeh shakes her head, smacking her forehead with the heel of her hand.

"Of course he didn't tell you. Tseng said you could stay with us for a few days. Get a feel for the real world again."

"Oh."

It's been a year since I stopped hearing threats against Tseng—since we've been relatively amicable. Something tells me this was more Sonyeh's idea than his. Ever since he announced their engagement to me, she's made an effort to pay me regular visits. She's nice enough, I guess. Doesn't strike me as Tseng's type, not that I know what that would be.

I know a few things about her. She's the estranged daughter of Wutai's emperor. She ran away when she was younger and all ties were cut for good when her father learned she was going to marry a Turk. Her favorite color is some very specific shade of pink I can't remember and she has a habit of chewing on her right pinky while she thinks. I don't think she knows anything about me but what I did.

"Ready to hit it?" she asks, cheerful as always. Maybe that's why it doesn't match up in my head. She's always so happy, and Tseng's, well, gloomy. Serious. Drab. It's an odd pair.