[The entire thing has her freezing in the doorway, but nothing quite as much as what she sees at the dining table.
There sits Eustace, shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat. She can see the beads of them falling over the muscles in his neck, how his lean shoulders shine whenever he moves... Tifa immediately feels her throat dry up, and a sharp twinge of heat pool in her stomach. She lets out a sigh as she watches him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her standing there...
Because in his hands, he holds his gun. Flamek. He seems to be too preoccupied with cleaning it—a task she's seen him do plenty of times before, but this time... this time feels different. Her gaze roves over him, drinking him in. From his neck to his shoulders, his lean arms, all the way down to his hands as they deftly glide over the gun's metal barrel. She watches as his fingers, so strong and so firm, wipe away every last piece of dust before he brings it close to his mouth and... breathes on it. When she hears that puff of air pass over his parted lips, as if he were breathing into her ear instead, she feels her own catch in her throat, and she gasps with him.
Shivers shoot up her spine when he picks up the cloth and polishes it, the steel shining brilliantly in the sun. The way his hands curl over the weapon, so delicately, so lovingly, makes her knees tremble. It's so much like how he moves them when he's touching her...
And that's when she feels it.
Something dark, something twisted that's rooted deep within her resurfacing again. It makes her blood run hot and her mind white out with an uncharacteristic fury. Her chest suddenly feels heavy, her face warm and red, and her lungs like they've run out of air. Her heart beats so furiously that she fears it might burst right out of her. But why...? She's seen him with Flamek, cleaning it, so many times before. She's seen him use it, and never has it ever provoked such a visceral reaction out of her. Such an ugly feeling that boils in her core and wipes her mind clean of everything but what she sees before her—
Him holding the gun close to his lips. A shudder passes over her as his long fingers dip a thin cloth into the gun's barrel to clean its insides. It's the way they slide so easily out only to drive back in again and again, each time a little deeper that has her still frozen... But she's so mesmerized that she can't take her eyes away, no matter what kind of terrible things it stirs in her. She watches, with dreadful anticipation, as his lips part to murmur something to it...
"I'll never let you go..." She feels her heart leap up into her throat and choke her. She's heard those words before... uttered to her. They were meant for her. "You're the one thing I truly call my partner," he goes on, as if she isn't there. "The one thing I wholly trust..."
Tifa tries to shake her head at that. At the words that she refuses to give any more meaning to, or the emotions that she felt when she heard them. She didn't like them. She still doesn't like them. No, she's just imagining this. It's all just a dream, right? A stupid dream and nothing more.
Her eyes screw shut in an attempt to wake herself up from this miserable place. She blinks hard, again, and then again, but when she opens them and checks, she's still standing in the doorway of the cottage, unable to move her feet. Unable to move her body to lunge forward and slap the gun right out of his hands. Unable to take its place.
But when her vision adjusts...
...????????
Eustace is no longer holding a gun, but... a woman? An Erune, no doubt, with ears just like his that prick in Tifa's direction. She's curvy with the longest legs she's ever seen, hair so long that it cascades down her arched back like water. She's confident, graceful, beautiful—the kind of beautiful that Tifa always wished she could be, and this beautiful woman is on Eustace's lap, straddling him with her legs wrapped around his body. His hands slide from the nape of her neck all the way down her bared back, over the curves of her hips where he stops to squeeze.
She leans in over him, bringing her mouth close to his to breathe him in, but her eyes, bright and playful and reflecting the same deep lust in Eustace's—that same one that he only ever holds for Tifa—fix on her at the door. They never once break from Tifa's gaze as Eustace's lips and teeth graze over her jaw and he growls into the crook of her neck.
"I've chosen you..." Tifa's breathing stops when he says the words—to her... to her!—and when the woman winks and presses a coy finger to her lips. "As my partner for life. ... You're mine."
And that's when Tifa finally finds her voice.]
STOP!
[She refuses to suffer through any more of this!
The entire room comes to a grinding halt, the image of them so, so close to sharing a heated kiss frozen in time before it all starts to spin and vanish around her, swirling with fire as it burns away into something else. And in the background, she can hear... are those church bells...?]
warning for some weird spice??? idk save me... 2/4
There sits Eustace, shirtless, his skin glistening with sweat. She can see the beads of them falling over the muscles in his neck, how his lean shoulders shine whenever he moves... Tifa immediately feels her throat dry up, and a sharp twinge of heat pool in her stomach. She lets out a sigh as she watches him, but he doesn’t seem to notice her standing there...
Because in his hands, he holds his gun. Flamek. He seems to be too preoccupied with cleaning it—a task she's seen him do plenty of times before, but this time... this time feels different. Her gaze roves over him, drinking him in. From his neck to his shoulders, his lean arms, all the way down to his hands as they deftly glide over the gun's metal barrel. She watches as his fingers, so strong and so firm, wipe away every last piece of dust before he brings it close to his mouth and... breathes on it. When she hears that puff of air pass over his parted lips, as if he were breathing into her ear instead, she feels her own catch in her throat, and she gasps with him.
Shivers shoot up her spine when he picks up the cloth and polishes it, the steel shining brilliantly in the sun. The way his hands curl over the weapon, so delicately, so lovingly, makes her knees tremble. It's so much like how he moves them when he's touching her...
And that's when she feels it.
Something dark, something twisted that's rooted deep within her resurfacing again. It makes her blood run hot and her mind white out with an uncharacteristic fury. Her chest suddenly feels heavy, her face warm and red, and her lungs like they've run out of air. Her heart beats so furiously that she fears it might burst right out of her. But why...? She's seen him with Flamek, cleaning it, so many times before. She's seen him use it, and never has it ever provoked such a visceral reaction out of her. Such an ugly feeling that boils in her core and wipes her mind clean of everything but what she sees before her—
Him holding the gun close to his lips. A shudder passes over her as his long fingers dip a thin cloth into the gun's barrel to clean its insides. It's the way they slide so easily out only to drive back in again and again, each time a little deeper that has her still frozen... But she's so mesmerized that she can't take her eyes away, no matter what kind of terrible things it stirs in her. She watches, with dreadful anticipation, as his lips part to murmur something to it...
"I'll never let you go..." She feels her heart leap up into her throat and choke her. She's heard those words before... uttered to her. They were meant for her. "You're the one thing I truly call my partner," he goes on, as if she isn't there. "The one thing I wholly trust..."
Tifa tries to shake her head at that. At the words that she refuses to give any more meaning to, or the emotions that she felt when she heard them. She didn't like them. She still doesn't like them. No, she's just imagining this. It's all just a dream, right? A stupid dream and nothing more.
Her eyes screw shut in an attempt to wake herself up from this miserable place. She blinks hard, again, and then again, but when she opens them and checks, she's still standing in the doorway of the cottage, unable to move her feet. Unable to move her body to lunge forward and slap the gun right out of his hands. Unable to take its place.
But when her vision adjusts...
...????????
Eustace is no longer holding a gun, but... a woman? An Erune, no doubt, with ears just like his that prick in Tifa's direction. She's curvy with the longest legs she's ever seen, hair so long that it cascades down her arched back like water. She's confident, graceful, beautiful—the kind of beautiful that Tifa always wished she could be, and this beautiful woman is on Eustace's lap, straddling him with her legs wrapped around his body. His hands slide from the nape of her neck all the way down her bared back, over the curves of her hips where he stops to squeeze.
She leans in over him, bringing her mouth close to his to breathe him in, but her eyes, bright and playful and reflecting the same deep lust in Eustace's—that same one that he only ever holds for Tifa—fix on her at the door. They never once break from Tifa's gaze as Eustace's lips and teeth graze over her jaw and he growls into the crook of her neck.
"I've chosen you..." Tifa's breathing stops when he says the words—to her... to her!—and when the woman winks and presses a coy finger to her lips. "As my partner for life. ... You're mine."
And that's when Tifa finally finds her voice.]
STOP!
[She refuses to suffer through any more of this!
The entire room comes to a grinding halt, the image of them so, so close to sharing a heated kiss frozen in time before it all starts to spin and vanish around her, swirling with fire as it burns away into something else. And in the background, she can hear... are those church bells...?]