Modes of Existence

Modes of Existence: Chapter Seven

As Leon left Cloud's room, his heart was beating at what he knew must have been an unhealthy pace. While he wholeheartedly loved the way they had a system of nonverbal communication, to hear Cloud's voice was another thing entirely. Listening to the blond actually voicing his opinion gave Leon an immense sense of pride, even though it was mostly Sephiroth's fault that the blond was driven to speech. It was probably the man's fault that Cloud had stopped talking in the first place; it only made sense that his reappearance prompted Cloud into conversation again. The strange irony had Leon's lips twisting into a smirk. His mute songbird had finally found his voice again.

And what a voice it was! As Leon traveled down the hallway towards his office, his hands shoved deep in his pockets, he replayed the sound of Cloud's voice over and over in his head. The smooth contralto quality to it, the way the blond added just enough inflection to get his point across with being overly emotive, how every word he said had some meaning. Throughout the entire encounter, Leon couldn't help but think about what a shame it was that the blond had deprived the world of his voice for so long. He couldn't help but wonder what the blond's voice sounded like when he laughed, or under the strain of intense pleasure.

The brunet shook his head violently, trying to rid himself of the sudden thought. Where had it come from? Oh, he knew exactly where: from stripping down the blond naked last night. Cloud's offhand comments hadn't helped either. Leon could feel his face heating up again at the mere memory of the blond's statements; Cloud hadn't know how close he was to the possibly truth. Leon was starting to think that he really couldn't resist the blond's attractiveness anymore. Yes, he'd noticed the man's fair and flawless countenance from the beginning, but never had he taken it into serious consideration. Now, with the reminder from the man himself that he had seen Cloud in all of his mesmerizing glory, it was incredibly hard to ignore the stern sweep of the blond's lips, difficult to erase the image of his broad chest, toned muscles, slender hips that led down to—

Leon slammed the door to his office shut and leaned against the closed door, screwing his eyes shut tight. “Damn,” he muttered to himself, bringing up a hand to press against his face. This line of thinking was problematic, not to mention incredibly inappropriate. The doctor threw himself onto his own couch, imagining what another psychiatrist might say to him, and scoffed.

“Doctor Leonhart, this is an unhealthy projection of repressed emotional conflict onto an innocent and unrelated person. Not to mention illegal.”

Another laugh escaped his lips. It suddenly occurred to him what Cloud's reaction to such a diagnosis might have been.

“Actually, I'm pretty sure he just wants my cock.”

Leon chuckled softly to himself. It was strange, how one moment he relished the blond's silence, and in an instant, he wanted to hear everything and anything Cloud had to say. Funny how life worked like that. A silence fell over his office and mind as he idly contemplated the fact. Were it not for Sephiroth, this insane serial murderer, Cloud would've never begun talking again—would've never been in an asylum in the first place, from the looks of it. Leon would have never cared to become close to anyone again, would've never seen the day when he looked forward to anyone's presence in his life, would have never felt like his insides were turning themselves out over another person's distress. It was unnerving and reassuring at the same time; reassuring in that it reminded Leon he was indeed human, but unnerving in how vulnerable it made him feel.

And still, even after another span of silence, those words still floated around Leon's mind, haunting him:

“And to think, last night you had me naked and all to yourself...”

Leon groaned.

Cloud sat idly on his bed, staring at the space that Dr. Leonhart had vacated long after he was gone. If he wanted to, he could recreate the man, from his perfectly and stylishly arranged chocolate locks, to the heady scent of the cologne Cloud had never really noticed before, to the intense way Leon's blue-grey eyes seemed to penetrate his soul. Cloud tried to tell himself that, once he'd gotten over the shock of it, he wasn't indulging himself in a few fantasies about how last night could have gone. He tried to argue that it was just fatigue and emotional upheaval that made him want to cling to the brunet. And Cloud honestly tried to tell himself that he wouldn't have pushed things any further had he been awake during the alleged undressing. Really, he tried.

He scrubbed at his face with his hands, as if the action could somehow wipe away the lascivious thoughts as well. Of course he'd noticed how gorgeous the doctor was; he wasn't gay for no reason. Then again, Cloud reasoned with a snort, a person would literally have to be missing half their brain not to notice Leon, gay or straight. Even without speaking a word, Leonhart could command a room simply by his mere presence. The way his icy stare assessed a situation, and the way he immediately knew how to take control never failed to impress Cloud. And even if one managed to somehow block out the man's dominating aura, there was still his physical appearance to deal with. Five feet and ten inches of unadulterated masculinity that exuded confidence, grace, and subtle sexuality was damn hard to ignore.

Especially when said five feet and ten inches was alone with his comparably shorter five feet and seven inches of unadulterated nakedness the night prior.

Flopping backwards onto his bed, Cloud moaned inwardly, cussing at himself. There was just too much to think about, and it was all thanks to Sephiroth. Somehow the man always managed to control him without even trying. A shudder ran through Cloud's body as he remembered the exact extent of ex-boyfriend's control.

The way the blood poured from Zack's neck made Cloud want to throw up. He could even feel the bile rising in the back of his throat as his best friend's choking form sank to the ground in front of him, life slowly ebbing from his body. His tear-filled eyes flickered upwards to lock with Sephiroth's cold, lifeless orbs, and he gagged, despair and disbelief churning in his stomach. Gasping for air, he rushed into the apartment, into the kitchen, and threw up into the sink. The noise seemed extraordinarily loud to his ears in the suddenly too quiet space; the only other sound was that of Zack's gurgling breaths. Out of the corner of his eye he picked up a slight motion, and hastily wiped at his mouth with the back of a trembling hand.

“Wh...why?” Cloud could scarcely hear himself speaking; his voice was nothing but a hoarse whisper. Tears streamed down his face, blurring his vision as he faced his boyfriend. His own eyes were riveted on Sephiroth's narrowed ones, slits of burning green in his face. In his peripheral vision he could see the blood pooling on the floor, see Zack clutching at his mortal injury, and it sent a racking sob through his body.

Sephiroth only stared calmly at Cloud,loosely holding the knife in his hand. He didn't respond to the blond's question, choosing instead to take a small step forward. Cloud instinctively shrank back, covering his mouth to suppress a loud cry. Sephiroth's lips curved into a small frown. “Cloud...”

“Don't,” Cloud gasped. “Don't, don't, don't—I can't, I can't—”

A slight hiccup in Zack's breathing drew Cloud's attention. The blond felt himself holding his breath as Zack's bright blue eyes landed on his face. There was none of the usual mirth present in his best friend's face; instead of joy, his face was painted with pain. “Cl...oud,” he rasped out.

Cloud sank to his knees, one arm wrapped tightly around himself, the other pressed to his mouth. His body involuntarily rocked back and forth as he fought with the heavy emotions. Zack scratched against the floor with one hand, reaching out for Cloud.

“Run,” he breathed, imploring Cloud with his eyes, “Cloud, run—” His speech was cut off as more blood bubbled forth from his mouth, choking him. Cloud pressed both hands to his mouth, unable to restrain the stream of whimpers that issued from his throat.

Sephiroth's frown deepened. He turned to Zack's prone body and, without a moment's hesitation, ground the heel of his foot into the side of his neck. There was a sickening crack, and then silence,save for the squelching noise of Sephiroth's foot as it slid off Zack's neck and onto the blood-soaked tile floor. The silveret gazed down impassively at the body of his late best friend for a moment before glancing back at his lover.

Cloud stared up at Sephiroth with horror written across his features. Sudden rage boiled within his chest. “How dare you,” he whispered fiercely, and lunged upward towards him, hands balled into fists. Before he could even comprehend the other man's motions, Sephiroth slammed him against the refrigerator, one hand wrapped around his throat in a bruising grip. The other hand drove the knife through his left shoulder, making Cloud cringe in pain.

They stared at each other, silent and contemplative, Cloud's distraught face against Sephiroth's eerily serene one. Cloud could feel himself struggling for air, taking in barely enough to stay conscious. “Why?” he asked weakly, his voice sounding thin and pathetic to his ears. “Sephiroth...”

“Shh,” soothed the other, bringing his hands down the side of Cloud's face in a caress. “Everything will be all right. Trust me.”

Cloud was infuriated. “No, it won't,” he choked out. “Zack—you just—” He could feel his throat closing up with emotion, and the pressure on it made breathing nearly impossible.

Sephiroth only closed the distance between them, sealing their lips in a kiss. “Everything will be all right,” he repeated, staring directly into Cloud's eyes. He kissed him again, his grip on Cloud's throat relenting as he littered the side of Cloud's face with small kisses.

“You won't say a word,” Sephiroth murmured into the blond's ear, caressing his throat with his thumb. “Everything will be all right, because you won't say a word. I love you, Cloud, but I won't hesitate to torture you.” To emphasize his point, he lightly traced his fingers over the muscle of Cloud's left arm, delicately wrapped his fingers around the hilt of the knife, and dragged it in a horizontal line through the blond's pectoral muscle. He whispered soft condolences into Cloud's ear as pain searing through his arm, pressing sweet kisses to his shoulder.

“You will keep silent,” Sephiroth commanded, pulling out the knife with a vicious yank and flinging it behind him. He turned his face towards Cloud's, grinning wickedly at the fear and sadness rampant in the blond's eyes. Cloud desperately wanted to fight, to run, to do something other than just stand there, but he found himself immobile, paralyzed by fear and, though he was loathe to admit it, love for the maniac standing in front of him. He just wanted everything to go away, just wanted—

“I can make everything better,” assured Sephiroth, his fingers lightly tracing over the open wound he'd caused. “Trust me.”

“I—I can't,” Cloud stuttered weakly, swallowing hard as those lips landed on his neck. With a trembling arm,he pushed at Sephiroth's chest, slightly surprised as the man eased back a few inches. He swallowed again, trying to get rid of the tightness in his throat. “Sephiroth...”

Sephiroth eyed the blond critically, his sharp eyes analyzing Cloud's features. After a few silent moments, his lips curved into a dark smirk. “Wherever you run,” Sephiroth warned, “I will find you, Cloud.”

Wherever you run... Cloud's eyes snapped open as the memory flashed through his mind. Even with his eyes completely open, he could still see everything as vividly as if it were right in front of him. Despite understanding the truthfulness of Sephiroth's words, he hadn't realized the man would following him even to an asylum. It was confusing, terrifying, disappointing—a sudden tangle of emotions that left Cloud reeling. He needed to get away from it all for a bit, away from himself. He sat up at the edge of his bed, his bare feet grazing against the cold linoleum. A shirt, he thought, mindlessly running his fingers over his bare chest, and then a walk.

Quickly making his way over to his dresser, Cloud picked out a shirt at random—they were all the same, much to Cloud's slightly fashion-challenged delight—pulled it over his head, and left his room. The hallway was empty as he stood in front of his door, contemplating which way to go. There was the garden, a perfect place to contemplate the world. It would be quiet, but Cloud didn't particularly feel like sitting inside himself for another two hours. He thought about the cafeteria. Sometimes he liked to sit with the nurses as they took their lunch breaks, and listen to their idle chatter. Nurse Tifa was his favorite; she had a certain passion for life that he admired. There was always the added incentive of food. Nodding his head, Cloud turned down the hallway in the direction of the elevator. He pushed the button for the sub-level, smirking as he remembered that he always had an invitation to Leonhart's office if he truly became bored.

The elevator dinged cheerily, announcing Cloud's arrival at his destination. He left the elevator and turned down the hallway, actually looking forward to human company, for once. The corridor was mostly empty, save for the patient or two who passed him by without greeting. It was silent enough on the Saturday afternoon that Cloud stopped in his tracks to double-check if the noise he was hearing was in his head. After reliving the memory in such sobering detail, Cloud wouldn't have been surprised if the retching noises he was hearing were only in his head.

But no; as he stood still for moment after moment, he realized he could pinpoint the exact direction of the noise. Turning to his right, he cautiously placed a hand against the men's lavatory door, pressing lightly against it. The door opened with the barest of creaks, and Cloud slipped into the bathroom. The gagging sound echoed off the walls, and the way the chunks of vomit splashed against the toilet water made Cloud want to throw up him self. Still, he knew it was never a good sign if someone was vomiting, and crept closer to see what was wrong. He was standing just beside the stall when the toilet flushed, and the person exited the stall.

Piercing green eyes narrowed in contemplation of him, and then turned away as Sephiroth faced the sink, washing his mouth and face.

Cloud stood frozen, his heart beating madly, unsure of whether to run or stay. The rush of emotion he had been trying to quell came thundering back even stronger than before. He wanted to run as fast and far away as he could, but at the same time, he wanted to know if Sephiroth had changed. And still another part of him cared, wanted to know if he was okay, what was going on—

“I don't particularly care for being drugged against my will,” drawled Sephiroth in a low tone, smirking sidelong at Cloud as he dried his face with a paper towel. He tossed the paper in the trash and turned to face Cloud fully. “But I suppose you don't care, do you.”

Cloud couldn't remember the last time he'd had a civil conversation with Sephiroth. Two years? Three? Ever since Zack died, maybe even a short time before, everything they said to each other was antagonistic and biting.

“Come now, there's no reason for you to be silent around me,” cooed Sephiroth, his eyes glittering. “Don't I even get a proper hello?”

Cloud immediately glared at Sephiroth, his hands balling into fists at his sides. He wouldn't give in, he wouldn't succumb...

Sephiroth took a step forward, but Cloud didn't move an inch. The silveret reached out a hand towards Cloud's face, gently placing his fingertips on the blond's cheek. “Why so quiet, Cloud?” he questioned, noticing the slight flinch of Cloud's skin under his fingers. “Are you still angry with me?”

Cloud said nothing, and only clenched his jaw to the point of pain. Sephiroth laughed, the sound a deep rumble that came from his chest. “You were always so fierce, kitten,” he commented, ignoring the flash in Cloud's eyes at the pet name. “But could it be that you've forgotten how to talk to me after all these years?”

He circled around Cloud, allowing his fingers to drift down to Cloud's shoulder, and placed a chaste kiss on the back of the blond's neck. “I don't mind,” he continued pleasantly. “I love how responsive you are, even without words.” He buried his face in the juncture of Cloud's neck and shoulder, nuzzling him tenderly with a smile. Cloud shuddered violently, both from the gentleness of Sephiroth's touch and the fact that he was touching him at all. Something was keeping him standing there; he just couldn't tear himself away like he knew he should. Goosebumps broke out on his skin as his hair stood up on end.

Sephiroth didn't miss the way Cloud's entire body trembled ever so slightly, and grinned darkly. “Or,” he said, his voice loosing all of the warmth it held, “is it that you're frightened because you've disobeyed me?” He completed his circle around Cloud, pinning him with a severe gaze. “Did you tell them all about me, Cloud? Was it you who brought me here?”

Cloud's eyes widened at Sephiroth's implications, and the silveret's smirk grew wider. Before Cloud's flight instinct could even kick in, Sephiroth stepped closer to him, leaving no space between them. His hand wrapped around Cloud's throat, tight enough to hold Cloud in place, but not forceful. His lips brushed against Cloud's ear as he whispered, “Tell me, Cloud, do you need to be punished for your sins?”

His breath came in short gasps as the panic started setting in. Cloud intuitively brought his hands up to Sephiroth's hold on his neck, trying to dislodge his fingers. Sephiroth only squeezed tighter, using his hold to swing Cloud around and slam him into the wall as he stumbled backwards. Cloud grunted as his head connected with the tile, black spots dancing across his vision.

Sephiroth chuckled darkly. “On your knees,” he snarled cruelly, “I want you to beg for forgiveness.”

Cloud clawed at Sephiroth's hand, but the man's grip was vice-like in its strength. Sephiroth's face filled his vision as it grew blurrier, the vitriolic green eyes the only things remaining in focus. He was beginning to hope that someone, anyone, would enter the bathroom and distract Sephiroth for even a second—anything for a chance to escape. Cloud berated himself for being lulled into a false sense of security, for thinking that maybe Sephiroth had changed, maybe there was a chance.

Just as Cloud thought he would either have to give in to Sephiroth or die, the silveret released him, cackling softly. Tears sprung into Cloud's eyes as he gasped to pull air in through his sore throat, and Sephiroth only watched in amusement. The blond quickly pushed him to the side, and Sephiroth allowed it, watching as Cloud backed away from him and ran out the door.

Cloud ran blindly down the hallway, unsure where he was even going. He knew he had to run, had to get away, to wherever his legs would take him. He felt like an idiot for falling into Sephiroth's trap, and a coward for running away from it. Skidding around a corner, he dashed up a flight of stairs and down an empty hallway. His breath came in heavy gasps as he struggled to catch his breath, still feeling the effects of Sephiroth's grip. Leaning his back against the wall, Cloud slumped to the ground as he took in deeper breaths. Finally eying his surroundings, he realized where his blind running had brought him—directly to Leonhart's doorstep.

Cloud's chest heaved as he shut his eyes tight against the tears that threatened to fall again. It seemed to be a running trend lately, and he didn't like it very much. With a shuddering sigh, he climbed to his feet, slowly taking the few steps across the hallway to knock on Leonhart's door. When he heard a call of, “It's unlocked,” come from the man within, Cloud eased the door open and slipped inside. His gaze automatically fell to the floor before glancing up to Leon a bit sheepishly.

His voice cracked as he tried to speak. “I—I hope you're in the mood for a little torment,” he said, wincing at how weak and broken his voice sounded. The tears filled his eyes again, and he quickly looked away from the doctor. This wasn't going to be fun.