Fandom: Final Fantasy VII
Pairing: Vincent Valentine/Yuffie Kisaragi
Disclaimer: Final Fantasy and its characters are the property of Square Enix. I am making no money from this. It's just fun.
He never ate breakfast with her. No, that wasn’t true. He sat with her while she ate, but never ate himself. She frowned at him around a mouth of cereal. “Eat damn it!”
He quirked an eyebrow. “Didn’t your father ever teach you not to speak with your mouthful?”
She pointed her spoon at him with a halfhearted glare. “No, he didn’t, now eat.”
“I do not eat breakfast.”
“Most important meal of the day.”
“Perhaps for you, but for me it does not matter,” he told her evenly. “It will not affect my health.”
She frowned down at her bowl. “Can’t you ever humor me?”
“Wouldn’t that just encourage you?”
She didn’t answer him, but instead shoved another angry spoonful of her breakfast into her mouth and crunched with a scowl on her face.
He watched her with hidden amusement. Sometimes it was far too easy to annoy her, and sometimes it was just too much fun not to try. “You look like a fish with your mouth all twisted up like that.”
She stuck her tongue out at him, a rather childish gesture but one that suited her well.
“Sometimes I really hated you Vincent Valentine,” she told him with yet another scowl.
“No, you don’t.”
Sadly it was true. No matter what he did she didn’t hate him, couldn’t hate him. She cared about him too much.
She sighed as she stood and deposited her bowl in the sink. “You are so mean to me sometimes it makes me wonder why I bother.”
“I am mean to you?” He quirked an eyebrow genuinely surprised by her statement. “If I were trying to be mean to you then you would be in tears right now,” he told her simply. “As it is you are not, so I do not understand how I am mean to you.”
“Sometimes I think you like to get me mad,” she told him. “And it’s hurtful.”
She grabbed the carton of milk off of the table and went to put it in the refrigerator. She never quite made it there however because his arm wrapped around her pulling her to him, his lips came down upon hers, and she gasped dropping the carton to the floor, her arms instantly wrapping around his neck as they had so many times before as she gave herself up to the kiss, to his affection.
The milk went disregarded as if spilled on the floor forming a white puddle on the floor. It didn’t really matter to either of them. Each could only focus on the kiss, and the next one, and the next one after that.