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Shrieks of laughter fill the otherwise empty, snowy fields, far from the buzz of Edge’s crowded streets. It sends Vincent reeling to imagine the city hiding an area like this only a few short years ago. Blankets of white, undisturbed except the crisp indents left by the four explorers. Grand boulders designed from natural erosion and not a cosmic atrocity. Tufts of evergreen dotting the landscape, a peek at the flourishing planet underneath. The sky above is overcast, gray but without the usual gloom Vincent has come to expect with the color. It has taken eons for the frigid cold to be synonymous with joy and not bleak despair.
Smack.
“Got you!” A victorious child cries out, breaking Vincent’s reverie as icy tendrils snake past bundled layers to freeze the skin beneath. A full body shudder overtakes him before he is pulled to safety behind a thick bush. He glances at Marlene, who peers over the makeshift cover. She shoots a disappointed look his way while he wipes away the melting snow from his hair.
“Aren’t you a professional gunman or something?” She quips, bending down to pack a globe of snow between her mittens. As she lifts up, she swipes back the two-sizes-too-big cloak borrowed from Tifa that morning. “You’re going to make us lose.”
“Apologies,” Vincent murmurs, chastened. He crouches behind her as she scouts the horizon for a target. Vincent wonders, not for the first time, how he got roped into this little outing. His reminder comes with bright laughter floating to their side of the battlegrounds, and the brunette it belongs to. A fluttering erupts in his stomach and it takes real effort to refocus when Marlene turns back to him, motioning for a snowball to launch.
His agenda had been carefully arranged. A detour from Kalm on his way to visit friends compelled him to travel to Edge. To pop in for a quick hello and catch-up. Yet it turned into an overnight mandatory stay, including gift exchanges in the morning.
“I… I have not brought enough for such festivities,” he had tried at first. He had procured several in fact - delicacies from Wutai, trinkets from Cosmo Canyon, souvenirs from Costa del Sol.
Tifa waved that away. “I always buy them too much, and Barret and Cid load them up with junk.”
“I couldn’t impose like this…” he protested, but she simply countered, “I want you to.”
He swallowed the last dregs of his beer to stall, searching for another out, and avoiding her twinkling eyes. All excuses crumbled like dust and he watched desperately as she plucked his glass out of his hand. He saw the curl of a smile on her lips as she sashayed by and knew he had lost - would always lose to that smile.
Now, an idea springs forth and he taps Marlene’s shoulder, grabbing the girl’s attention. She leans close to hear Vincent’s whispered plan before clasping a hand over her mouth to stifle a giggle. Vincent, in all mock-seriousness, places a finger to his lips. Marlene mimics his action, despite the huge grin she cannot hide. He must admit, if not for decades of practice, there would be cracks in his stoic mask.
In a slow, deliberate crawl, they make their way across the field. They arc a wide berth from where their fellow combatants wait to sneak another attack. Using the inside of Tifa’s fur lined cloak, they blend into the snowy details. The jagged rocks lend additional cover as they inch closer, shrinking the distance.
Once they are perpendicular, Vincent sees Denzel poke out from a large thicket of brush, squinting against the brightness. The boy frowns, extending on his toes to scan the fields before sliding back down. He turns to Tifa, concern etched in his face. The wind carries their voices over. “Do you think I upset Vincent? I did, like, hit him square in the face.”
Vincent hears Tifa chuckle, “Sweetheart, a little snowball won’t KO him. They’re probably being sneaky. Y’know how Marlene can be.”
The girl in question giggles beside him before pressing her cheek into Vincent’s arm to muffle the sound.
“That’s true… but should we head back? I don’t want Marlene sore at me for Christmas.”
Tifa hums, but Vincent spies, as she rocks back on her heels, a brief glance to the spot where they hide. “Sure, hon. Let's call a truce.”
Denzel nods, solemn while he brushes snow from his puffy coat. Once he clears the shrubbery, Marlene springs from her hiding spot, charging at her adoptive brother with a triumphant scream. Denzel whirls around to meet the sound, but hesitates a fraction too long. She tackles him into the snow and they roll over twice before Marlene scrambles up to her feet, laughing, “Tagged you back!”
Marlene then takes off in a sprint towards their original base, Denzel hot on her heels, promising retribution. The departure of their boisterous yelling leaves Vincent exposed, bearing the full weight of Tifa’s attention. His gaze slides over to her. Against the stark landscape, she is a vision. Her dark hair falls free from its usual ties, framing her heart-shaped face and glossy lips. Wine-red eyes watch him as he makes his approach.
“Wouldn’t expect anything less from an ex-Turk,” she says, intertwining her fingers behind her back.
“We are known to be quite formidable,” he replies, though has to swallow at the sudden dryness scratching his throat. He is not sure when he got so close to her. Their steamed breath mingles in the fraction of space between them. He can count each individual freckle dotted along the bridge of her nose. The children sound so far away. His voice is a strained whisper as he dares a glance to her mouth, “Tifa… I do not want to overstep.”
Her eyes stay fixated on him, determined, but she whispers back, “You aren’t, Vincent. There’s a place for you here.”
It is all the motivation he needs as he leans down to press his lips against hers. But Tifa surprises him, digging her fingers into his collar to wrench him closer. The shock parts his lips and she sighs, content, angling against him to sweep her tongue inside his mouth. A lingering sweetness of cream from her coffee and citrus from breakfast hits his senses and he groans helplessly.
It is too much and not enough.
Not thinking, he hoists her up and she follows, wrapping long legs around his waist as she continues deepening their kiss. He is far too entangled to realize that neither are in the correct mind to maintain balance and soon, they tumble to the cold ground below. Tifa’s chin collides with his forehead at the impact and Vincent ends up biting his cheek.
Her worried nature takes over in an instant. “Oh my god! Vincent, are you okay? That was so stupid, I’m sorry!” she frets, rubbing his cheek as he lays dazed in the snow. When he blinks at her, she babbles more. “I’m sorry! I was just so happy that I reacted without thinking!”
Vincent shakes his head and perches up on his elbows. “Tifa, I’m fine.”
“You’re not going to kiss me again!” she whines, pressing her palms into her face.
“What’s going on here?” Marlene asks from above. Both adults snap their attention to the two children leaning over the thicket. A knowing look passes between them, Denzel raising both eyebrows and Marlene placing her hands on her hips. Vincent watches Tifa’s cheeks redden as she struggles to clarify the scene. When it is obvious there is no sufficient answer, Vincent plops back into the snow and flails his arms up above his head and then down to his sides. All three of his companions stare at him in bewilderment.
“Snow angels,” he says, ignoring the heat in his own face.
“O-oh! Right, yes! We were making snow angels,” Tifa agrees, falling to Vincent’s side to copy his movement. What a pair of fools they make, but he cannot help but start to chuckle, causing the brunette to begin giggling as well. Soon, they are both so overcome with laughter that it makes the children join in. In the hazy light of the afternoon winter, they create four uniquely shaped angels and Vincent realizes, as they depart for home, hand in hand with a smiling Tifa, he is right where he belongs.