The Best Part of Waking Up [COMPLETE; rp log]

[doctorlu.livejournal.com]

Characters: Lucrecia Crescent, Vincent Valentine
Content: Lu wakes up with a hangover and can't remember the night before...
Setting: Vincent's hotel room
Time: Sunday morning
Warnings: Nakedness, Lu cursing, mention of heroin usage.

Slowly, Lucrecia came to consciousness, the sensation wonderfully familiar, a slow percolating, her mind bubbling up through the heavy layer of sleep like tiny bubbles moving through sweet, thick syrup. She'd been drunk last night; she could tell from the tang in her mouth before she opened her eyes, before she even stirred. She never fell asleep in her contacts sober.

One eye twitch, two, and her eyes began to sting, watering to help ease the dry stinging in her eyes. She'd probably cry a bit before they settled comfortably again, but it wasn't something she was unused to--she fell asleep drunk more often than she fell asleep sober. "Mmn," came the soft sigh that always signaled her stirring.

Wincing preemptively, Lucrecia felt pain rip through her head at the sound, her body tensing ever so slightly... But it was enough. The movement caused her to become aware of her body, her aching, sore, naked body. Shit... She'd done something stupid last night, hadn't she?

...What had she done last night? Come to think of it, what had she done yesterday? What had happened? Thinking back on it, Lucrecia remembered being at a bar with her friends, staggering around...waking up? In a strange place...no, that was part of her strange dream. It was about time to head off to work; it was her first day-- No! No, no, it wasn't, she...she was in a strange place? But...no, wait...

Trying very hard to remember the last thing that had happened to her, she suddenly recalled falling out a window. A very low window, into...dirt. Behind a bar--she'd vomited all over the bar, yes, she remembered then. And then she'd gone to a new bar and talked on her journal--she had a journal! Yes, she remembered now--and he...knew...

Something felt out of place, didn't make sense. He told her about...dreams, her dreams. Her dreams, and how she slept--he knew her, from home, someone in this strange place who knew her, but she didn't remember... God, did I screw him back home and then blacked out, and now he's here? And then another realization dawned slow and sludgy over her aching mind. And who did I screw last night?

That had to be it, having sex with someone last night. She hadn't even opened her eyes and she could feel the bed beneath her, the soreness of her neck, her chest, her thighs, her abdomen. She could feel the delicious tiredness of her body, that wonderful heavy feeling that occurs when an exhausted body gets restful sleep. That feeling only came after a night of hard screwing, in her experience--she didn't typically run around exercising for no reason, especially drunk.

So. She was in a strange place, naked and sore, in a man's bed. She had no name, no face, no idea, nothing but a terrible headache and more than a couple bruises. Damn, he did good though, she thought, risking opening her eyes, blinking, looking around with acid green eyes glittering with tears. Stupid contacts... She needed some water and some hangover cure pills--she always carried a kit to cure hangovers, but she couldn't do much without water, which was why her first hours in Paixao had been so miserable. The pills were in her bag, where they always were, pressed herbal pills she'd hand-selected with her knowledge of botany. Heh. A hangover wasn't cancer, but at least she'd figured out how to cure something. She only hoped she'd brought her bag with her.

And suddenly she realized she needed something a little bit stronger than a hangover cure. It really was a good thing she was a doctor--she had access to all kinds of hypodermic needles and strange chemicals that could do all sorts of things. Stomach tightening in a way that was completely unrelated to her hangover, Lucrecia blinked again, finding herself staring at the wall, lying on her right side, a pillow in her arms. She needed that injection, the sooner the better. As she stirred and opened her eyes, she groaned softly one more time, and though her hangover was too terrible for her to sit up and look around, she wondered where the man--or woman, really, since it could have been anyone--was. What was I thinking last night?

Vincent sat on the roof, not knowing if he should even go back into his room. Chaos was laughing again in his head, telling him the harsh truths of the night prior. Yes, he'd had sex with Lucrecia. And it wasn't even the Lu he was in love with. Or maybe it was? Chaos said no. Not to mention the fact that he could have actually gotten her pregnant. That would be hell if she wasn't in love with him. Which Chaos said she wasn't.

The roof he was on was the building next door's, and Vincent sat where he could see into his room. About that time Lu was waking up, and she seemed to not know where she was. That was a bad sign. Vincent really didn't know if he could actually go back in there and talk to her. He could see it in his mind how it would go.

"Did we have sex?"

"Yes."

"Who are you?! RAPE!!!"

Vincent figured that's how it would go if he went back there. And so he just sat, shirtless, across from his window, his hair moving in the morning wind. He was really afraid at what might happen if he went in there. A few times he almost got up to go to his window, but stopped himself and sat back down.

But his shirt was right there next to the bed...what was he going to do? Finally when Vincent saw Lucrecia get up to go to the bathroom he jumped across to his porch, and snuck in. And as he was putting his shirt on, Lucrecia came out of the bathroom.

She didn't even seem to notice him at first, her beautiful bruised body wrapped in his bedsheet, angry purple bruises on her neck, a slight scab where he'd bitten her and drawn blood. It was damp, like she'd washed it; no doubt she'd seen herself in the mirror. A glass of water in one hand, her other at her chest, holding up the sheet, she kept her eyes downcast for a moment as she shuffled into the room, trying not to aggravate her hangover. Regretting everything she'd done the night before and wondering what had possessed her to do something so stupid, she spotted her bag on the floor, by...a pair of legs? Glancing up, those brilliantly unnatural green eyes catching the light as she looked at him, Lucrecia just stared for a moment, her question answered. Damn, that boy is fine... No wonder she'd picked him up.

"...Hi," she said softly, trying not to exacerbate her headache. Okay, she had been kind of ruing her actions the night before, but this guy was...sexy, to say the least. She was rather pleased that her taste in men was so good when she was plastered. And then she realized he might not remember who she was either. "...Do you... You remember me?" came her soft voice again as she walked toward him, the bedsheet trailing behind her like some sort of gown, her legs--bruised in places--winking out from behind the cloth every so often. The poor man looked terrified, like he thought she was going to have him arrested or something.

Sitting slowly on the bed and bending to grab her bag, Lucrecia pulled out another one of her serial-numbered bags, removing a small bottle and knocking three strange brown-green pills into her hand, popping them and drinking the rest of her water. She didn't seem scared of him, didn't seem angry or vindictive, didn't seem anything but...well, in pain. Friendly, and in pain. Her poor body looked absolutely battered, her neck a bruised mess, more bruises winking out from where the sheet was wrapped around her chest. "We had sex last night," she informed him, as if he wouldn't have known otherwise, and she looked up at him, slowly rising from the bed, gazing up at him with those glittering green eyes, her make-up gone--she'd washed it off in the bathroom, and was in too much discomfort at the moment to put any more on.

Vincent was pretty scared. He never expected Lucrecia to come out at that exact moment. Things were definitely going to get weird. His first reaction was to just run away, but she didn't seem angry or anything. She was just going about her business as it were, not really noticing him at all.

"I, of course I remember you Lu...I wasn't the one drunk," he said almost apologetically, casting his glance away from her. Then she moved close to him, and Vincent couldn't feel anything but sorry. He looked down at her, unable to even look into her eyes.

"I'm...sorry about last night Lu, I just..." he stopped for a moment, thinking of the right thing to say. "I just thought that you were the Lucrecia I knew.." He tried to explain his situation, not knowing that she had no idea who he was at all.

He took a few steps back, picking his guns up from the ground, and placing them back on his person. Vincent turned his back to her, biting his lip. He finally saw the things Chaos had down to her and could only feel horrible for allowing it to happen.

"Feel free to use the room as long as you want," he said to her over his shoulder, unable to look back. "I'll find a way to pay for it."

"Hey," she said gently, a small smile on her face. So he hadn't been drunk, and he'd still done all this damage to her? Or maybe he meant he hadn't been as drunk. "Don't be sorry, okay?" She knew she was insistent when she was drunk, and this guy was pretty attractive, so she had no trouble believing she'd instigated practically everything. "You didn't do anything I didn't want, okay?" There, that ought to put his worries to rest, at least about her calling rape on him.

She noticed the guns with a slight twitch of her mouth--his apparent proficiency with guns didn't speak ill of him, and he seemed like a man who could protect her, at least from the insane people in Paixao.

As he turned away from her, she bit her lip, thinking. The Lucrecia he knew? Wait--no, then he was telling her to use the room as long as she needed; he wasn't leaving, was he? "Wait--don't...don't go, please." Setting her empty glass on the bed, she walked over to him, touching his back with one hand. "You can't just leave me like this, questions unanswered..."

And God, did she have questions. The first and foremost being, of course, about their time last night. "...Could I be pregnant?" she asked softly, chewing her lip, nervous and rather uneasy at the prospect. She didn't even like considering the possibility of it.

Vincent stopped in his tracks. Like a kid being caught by his mother stealing a cookie, his shoulders moved up as he tried to hide his head. He stared down at the floor for what seemed like days before finally answering.

"Yes," was all he said, wanting very much to be out of the room.

"I'm sorry Lucrecia...Maybe someone has some medicine..." he said, trying to help. Of course, the only one he could think of was Hojo. Goddamn that man. There was no way he was going to let her near him.

"I'm so sorry," was the only thing he could say, his back still turned. How could he even stand to look at her beautiful face that he helped to ruin? He saw the bruises, he saw the scars. All of them his fault. Yes, Chaos could be blamed, but Vincent took sole responsibility for allowing the monster to take hold.

His claw-hand moved through his hair as he waited, his eyes still focused solely on the ground in disgust of himself.

"...Dammit," was all she said for a long moment, closing her eyes for a short time before rubbing his back a little with her hand. "It's okay," she assured him, a strange assurance, as if somehow an unintended child wasn't a problem in the slightest. "Please, don't feel bad. I'm not mad at you. Really, mad at myself more than anything else--" In the instant between saying it and realizing it was the wrong thing to say, Lucrecia let her hand tighten on his shirt, as if that would keep him from leaving if he wanted to. "Please, I-I'm not mad, okay? ...Look at me. ...Please?" She stepped around from behind him, looking up at him, a hand on his side to keep him from turning away, her other hand still holding up the bedsheet.

"I'm sorry," she murmured, squirming rather cutely under his gaze and then looking up at him with those dazzling green eyes. "I know I can be kinda demanding when I'm plastered--it's not your fault, all right?" Smiling at him, she kept her hand on his side, not minding at all that she was standing so close to him. Her hangover began to dissipate, which only made her smile a little brighter. "Don't get so down on yourself--you were good." Guys liked to hear that.

But she still had more questions, and one would probably sting him a little. "I...forgot your name, though," she admitted softly, flushing a little and hoping he didn't think she was some kind of dirty slut or anything. Really, she was normally pretty good about all this... She'd decided to assume he'd introduced himself to her and that she'd simply misplaced the name, rather than having never known it. "I'm sorry about that..." Lucrecia expected him to look a little awkward, a little sad, maybe a little stung, but no more than that. After all, they'd just met last night.

Vincent couldn't help but admit how cute she was. She came around to the front of him, standing there, smiling up at him while still trying to hold up that sheet. It was odd how she would do that, even though he had already seen her naked. But that wasn't what hurt him the most. Just having her there with him was hurting him. He never should have allowed himself to do that to her. Especially considering how much he truly loved her.

He looked down at her, the first time that day actually looking at those eyes. He was entranced and enamored, unable to break contact. He wanted to just hold her right there and stay like that forever. His hand started to move around her side, then she told him she didn't know his name. How could that be? Then the realization hit him. Lucrecia wouldn't know what he looked like. It was Chaos who let him think that she knew him. He'd fucked up big time.

"My name...is...Vincent Valentine," was all he said, forcefully pulling away from her, damning himself even as he did in case he hurt her. He knew her first reaction would be to start calling rape or freak out. 'Good move slick,' was all he could hear from Chaos. And that damn laughter.

"Please, don't get angry Lucrecia..." he said, sliding open the porch door. "I'm sorry," he said. There had been a lot of apologizing that morning.

But instead of any of the reactions he expected, she actually snapped at him. "Will you stop trying to fucking walk out on me?!" That seemed to freeze him in his tracks, at least for a moment. "If you're really so sorry, you'd stay here with me until we've figured this out, instead of selfishly trying to ditch me after screwing my brains out." ...It was a little harsh, but his constant escape attempts--not to mention her resentment at him not being there when she woke up--were making her a bit irritated.

Then, in a much calmer, gentler voice, almost apologetic, she said, "Vincent..." It was the first time she'd said his name aloud, the first time he'd heard her voice around his name in so long. Not that she knew that. "Please, stop trying to leave me." She felt like he was leaving her, and it stung, more than it should have. She was in a new place and needed a friend, and he'd brought her home drunk and had sex with her--the least he could do was help her come to terms with this world. "I'm not mad at you, okay? Now stop apologizing and get your ass back over here." She always had been rather demanding, a charismatic and independent woman used to being in charge.

She was so worried about getting ditched in some random hotel room in some random city without any sort of explanation that she didn't even match up the names. Other things were more urgent, more pressing than suddenly unraveling a few casually dispersed clues. "I won't let you leave," she informed him defiantly, even though she was fully aware that he could overpower her and make his exit whenever he liked.

Vincent stopped DEAD in his tracks. He never really could stand up to Lucrecia when she was angry. There was no use in arguing, yelling, or any kind of talk when she had her mind in such a state. And so he turned on his metal heels, his face readying for a slap. Not that he could remember her slapping him, but he just thought it might come.

Breathing a sigh of relief when he wasn't hit Vincent walked back across the room to Lucrecia, standing over her again, looking down into her amazing eyes. Then without a word or explanation, Vincent wrapped his arms around her, giving her a hug. He didn't know why. Hell, she was probably going to get angry. He just hugged her.

After a few moments he let go and tried to smile sheepishly. The real reason he hugged her? Chaos was flipping out in his head, and such cute, unsensible emotions shut him up instantly. The laughter was gone for now, and Vincent just stood quietly looking at her, hoping that she wouldn't ask why he just hugged her.

"...Do you want breakfast?" he would ask after a few moments.

"D--wha, y-yeah," she found herself saying, startled and bemused by his sudden embrace. "Just...don't leave me, okay?" she entreated, a hand on his stomach, her face tilted up to look into his. He was really quite attractive... Her voice was soft as she asked him not to leave, the barest hint of vulnerability in it--she needed him, couldn't let him leave, at least not until she understood more of what was going on.

She stayed close to him for a moment, enjoying his scent--it stirred something in her, smelled so right--and then she stepped back, locating her skirt and bending to pick it up, setting it on the bed. She assumed that breakfast would entail leaving the hotel room, and she sure as hell wasn't going to do that in a bedsheet. A flash of modesty made her glance at him almost shyly before she realized it was nothing he hadn't seen before, and so stood with her back to him, dropping the sheet.

Even through the bruises she was beautiful. Her back was slender and curved exactly where it should, though there were slight scratches from how hard he'd ground her into the bed, and even from behind he could see the bruises on her thighs, a bluish-green color. And, of course, the deep purple hickeys on her neck marred the smooth tone of her perfect skin, her ponytail not hiding them at all.

And then she was wearing her skirt, and with an arm crossed rather adorably over her chest, she turned around, looking for her shirt. Dark blue and purple bruises dotted her chest, though she didn't seem to mind. "What're you looking at?" she teased, grinning at him a little in a very sociable way as she bent to pick up her shirt, grabbing her bra, which was right next to it.

As she fastened the bra and pulled her shirt on, she chatted idly at him. "This doesn't have to be awkward, all right? I like you, Vincent, and you seem really nice--oh!" Suddenly remembering something rather urgent, she fixed her shirt quickly before turning to face him again, grinning. "Something else I need." Need? What did she need? She was walking toward him--what was going on?

And then she sat on the bed, digging through her bag again, procuring yet another serial-numbered bag with something apparently quite necessary in it. Opening up the little bag, she removed--a wet nap? What? And then a small piece of stretchy cloth, which she...wrapped around her upper arm, tying off tightly before ripping open the wet nap in her teeth, disinfecting the crook of her elbow in a very doctorly way, even though it looked like she was about to shoot up heroin.

And then she pulled a needle filled with a soft amber-colored liquid from the bag, popping off the cap on the tip and flicking the needle with medical precision. What in God's name was she doing? Checking her arm, she frowned, finding the vein not quite swelled enough to her liking. Dear God, it was heroin! Well, it certainly looked like it, at least.

Vincent watched as she changed, amazed with her beauty. He watched her, and eventually she noticed, asking him what he was looking at. A sweet smiled came over him, one of the few he'd had since coming to Paixao. And it was truly heartfelt.

"What're you looking at?"

"You're incredibly beautiful, Lu," Vincent said. He straightened out his own clothes, making sure his father's attire was well cared for. He stood watching her, his thoughts wandering for a few moments, until he saw her ready to shoot up on something. His eyes opened wide, unable to believe her. Lucrecia never said anything about a drug addiction. How could he have missed it? Maybe she was cured by the time he met her?

Vincent took a quick step to her, and grabbed her wrist tightly. He scowled, looking into her face.

"What are you doing?" he asked angrily, not understanding what she was doing. "I will not allow you to continue."

"Woah, calm down! It's nothing like that!" She scowled a little, trying to pull her arm away. "Vincent, please--you're hurting me!" Well, he wasn't really hurting her, but it wasn't pleasant, and in her experience, saying something like that would get a guy to back off. Frowning up at him, she waved the needle slightly. "It's estrogen, among other things. But predominantly estrogen." Realizing the explanation wasn't really clicking, she added, "It'll render me infertile for a few days. It's a hormone, that's all--I don't want to get pregnant." Really, it wasn't a sure-fire prevention, but it was all she had, and it was almost foolproof. Almost.

"Now can you please let go of my arm before I have to stab you and pump you full of girl-hormone?" She was a bit irritated with him, but the fact that he reacted so negatively to what he thought was a drug addiction actually pleased her. As a doctor, there was no way she could really condone drug use, especially since she'd studied both botany and biology. It proved to her that he was at least straight-edge, which was a good thing if they were going to pursue anything other than the one-night stand. "Come on, it's not like it's gonna mutate me or anything," she joked, trying to get him to stop scowling at her. It was kind of scary.

Lucrecia's own scowl scared Vincent just as much. However, it was for different reasons. Hers scared him because of the horrible memories associated with it. His scared her because Vincent can be downright scary at times. And also angst ridden. As he just became. Vincent turned his back to her, head hung low, feeling like shit for hurting her.

"I'm sorry, I didn't know," he started, running a hand through his long hair. "I was afraid you were doing something else."

Vincent admitted it. He was actually afraid of something. Although, to him, he knew he was afraid of many things. But to Lucrecia it must have been sort of a shock to hear a big strong guy like Vincent admit to being afraid. And he felt really bad for just grabbing her arm like that. It was definitely out of line, and he knew it.

"I didn't mean to hurt you, I overreacted," he said, turning around. Not to mention the fact that he was feeling bad that he might have gotten her pregnant in the first place. Oh, things were just swell with his ex-girlfriend who didn't even know him.

Injecting herself easily, she removed the needle and held it carefully in her other hand, removing a small adhesive bandage from her bag and applying it, removing the stretch of cloth with a sigh, pulling a small hazmat bag from the little canvas kit and placing the hypodermic needle into it. "...It's okay. It didn't hurt that bad, just scared me. And I'm sore already, from last night--" Oiy, there she went, saying the wrong thing again.

"...I should warn you," she said to divert his attention from how badly he'd beaten her up last night, "estrogen is a pretty powerful hormone. So if I act kind of strange, overemotional or something, that's why." Wonderful, so now she was going to be asking him for answers to hard questions while she was predisposed to overreact. "But I'll try to keep the injection in mind, and not take it out on you."

There was something almost touching about how he'd been afraid for her, and how he'd admitted it. "C'mon, stop being so down on yourself. I'm fine, and now there's...well, very little chance I'll get pregnant." There was always a chance. "Very low, almost non-existent. So don't worry about that, either." Slipping the little kit back into her messenger bag, she stood, putting her hand on his back and frowning a little when he wouldn't turn to face her. "...I hate it when you won't look at me."

I hate it when you won't look at me... She'd said that before, a long time ago and never, an older Lucrecia who she'd never had a chance to become--and wasn't it better that way? She wasn't destined to leave him, doomed to be experimented upon, fated to bring forth that bastardization of life Sephiroth, left to attempt and fail a suicide and live out the remainder of her eternity in the lifestream, guilt-ridden and alone. She didn't have to be that Lucrecia anymore. Paixao had given her another chance, and Vincent another chance to be with her. Even if she wasn't the Lucrecia who loved him, she was a Lucrecia who could love him--and if he got her to do it once, couldn't he get her to do it again?

She'd said she was on her way to her first day at work when she came to Paixao. Her first day in the lab, under Vincent's father Grimiore--it was probably very hard for Vincent to remember that far back, to the Lucrecia she'd been then. Bright, cheerful, witty, anxious and nervous and eager to be welcomed and appreciated, eager to make friends, that excited smile and her bright green eyes that had so startled everyone until she'd explained they were contacts and not Mako radiation... That was the day she'd first met Vincent--the day he'd first met her. So maybe he didn't have any trouble remembering it after all.

For her, yesterday should have been the day she met Vincent in his father's lab. Instead, she fell into Paixao and met Vincent in a bar. It almost seemed like her meeting him was supposed to happen on that day. Maybe there was hope for him--and them--yet. "Vincent, please, just look at me." It was just like she'd said before, soft words between the two of them that only he remembered, and she never would.

It hurt Vincent every time he had to see a bruise or hear about her pain. It hurt him to know that it was all his fault. He'd been with this Lucrecia for less than 24 hours and already he'd brought her harm and misfortune. But if she wanted him to turn around to face her he would. He had been thinking, obviously not for very long, but if he had gotten her pregnant he thought he would be okay with that. Maybe she could learn to love him the way Lucrecia did before. Hojo may be here, but maybe he was given a second chance at this. The thought gave Vincent a bright smile as he turned around, facing Lu.

"Breakfast?" he asked with his smile, stepping toward her. He made sure he was on her side that she didn't inject herself, and looped his arm in hers. Vincent turned his head to look at her, a smile on his pale face. Maybe she could even help him start looking normal. There were so many if's going around in his head he almost forgot to savor the moment being so close to each other.

And somewhere deep inside a voice said, "And no one is ever going to take her away from me again," in a horrible, wicked tone.

"Mmm, yeah, I don't think I ate much yesterday," she agreed with a little wince, knowing it came off badly for her to have forgotten so much about the day before. She was so short without her shoes on, so tiny and adorable as she looked up at him with those bright green, eerie Mako eyes. She pulled on her shoes easily, since Vincent hadn't bothered undoing the straps of her stiletto heels, and when she stood again, she was at least five inches taller, still an inch or two shy of six feet.

Hefting up the rather heavy messenger bag--it did, after all, contain innumerable kits, a tailcoat, papers, pamphlets, and her journal, along with several notebooks and pens--she settled it on her shoulder, carefully not wincing and taking a moment to adjust to the feeling of her aching body and rather bruised neck and shoulder area being pressed against by the small strap of the bag. "What'd you have in mind?" she asked with a little smile, looking up at him with a little smile that managed to be somewhat shy and flirtatious at the same time.

Vincent pulled the bag off with his free hand, holding it for her. He held it for a moment, feeling how heavy it was.

"You always did carry around a lot," he said, mostly to himself. "You're hurt. I'll carry it for you." He was not going to be having anymore grimaces or wincing.

"French toast, right?" he asked as he opened the door for her, still holding the bag in the most masculine way he could find to carry a woman's bag. As he closed the door behind them, he noticed how she was walking. Yes, he noticed how nice her legs looked in that skirt and heels, but he also noticed that there was no way she would be comfortable walking around like that for long. Taking his place beside her, Vincent looped his arm in hers.

"Afterwards we can get you some new clothes or shoes," he said, wondering why he even suggesting such an odd thing.

"I can--...well, if... You don't have to, Vin. Cent," she added a moment too late, biting her lip a little. She had a tendency to nickname people, to shorten their names, but typically they were friends first, and hadn't just met. ...It had taken her, what, ten minutes to nickname him Vin? She'd only called him Vin at the height of their relationship--afterwards, if she'd talked to him at all, she'd called him Vincent or Mr. Valentine. "...I guess if you don't mind, yeah. Thanks." She really didn't want to carry it, and if he was willing, she was happy to let him do it for her.

"French toast sounds great. It's one of my favorites, really," she confided with that pretty little smile, unsure of what to make of his comment about how she always did carry a lot of stuff and casually figuring he was referring to her carrying a lot of stuff last night. "I'm not much of a breakfast person, unless it's french toast or eggs in a basket."

"Afterwards we can get you some new clothes or shoes."

"God, I was just starting to think about that. You read my mind, Vin-cent." Damn that pause! She really needed to get to know him a bit better before she went around pet-naming him. "I only have this change of clothes, and I've been wearing it..." She paused to think. Uck, since the day before yesterday. She'd gone drinking in Midgar and then woken up in Paixao and then gone all the rainy day in them, and then shed them to sleep with Vincent... She'd made a conscious decision not to wear underwear, though whether Vincent noticed or not was beyond her. "Too long. I need to get out of these clothes."

Realizing what she'd said, she flushed a little, looking up at him again, that pretty little shy grin on her face. She'd smiled that smile at him on their first date in Midgar, shy and a little self-conscious and hoping everything would go well. "But yeah, I do need new ones. An extra pair of shoes would be nice--these heels are starting to kill me, though God knows I need them since I'm so little." She leaned on him a little, in that shy and flirty way she had so long ago, like it was happening all over again, except much, much faster. And somewhat backwards. They certainly hadn't had sex upon meeting in Midgar.

Vincent smiled a little bit still, opening the door to the street for her, letting her out into the sun. Of course, the first thing he did was to shield his eyes from that damn bright sun. Seriously, it nearly blinded the poor guy as he walked outside, using his claw to reflect the sun another direction. Not only that, but he noticed how late it actually was. Time flies. Somewhere between leaving Sephiroth and meeting Lu, he had managed to clean and repair his clothes, as turning into Chaos ruined them. Stupid beast couldn't even take care of their clothes. One more reason to hate it and Hojo.

Vincent looked down at the only slightly shorter Lucrecia. "I don't think you're short," he said truthfully. "Even without the shoes on. It doesn't bother me." He smiled at her, still slightly wincing and squinting. However, it was bearable simply by looking down at Lucrecia's smiling face.

Soon they came to a small diner, and again, he opened the door for her. His father always told him to hold the door open for girls and he carried that no matter where he was. They found a seat that was in the sun for Lu, and in the shadows enough for Vincent. He knew what he wanted, and guessed what she wanted but he would look through the menu anyway.

Had Lucrecia asked him anything about his claw he told her that he would tell her his entire story over breakfast.

[Over breakfast...]