Chapter Text
This was his moment of clarity.
Cloud could finally see what was right in front of him. The man he had admired for so long was nothing more than a monster. A charming, elegant monster. He wasn’t sure what it was that made him see the truth this time, when all the times before this he had been so blind. Maybe it was the fact that his split lip was stinging from where he had been viciously backhanded. Or the fact that his wrist was throbbing from being seized in a crushing grip. Although it was rare for Sephiroth to get mad enough to hurt him, it wasn’t unheard of.
Today just happened to have one of those moments. Sephiroth was always tense before he had to leave for a shoot, and like clockwork he had insisted that Cloud see him off with his favoured activity. Cloud rarely denied his advances; because it was hard to deny the man anything he wanted. But today he really hadn’t been in the mood. And on this exceptional occasion, he had spoken up about it. Having heard the word ‘no’, the silver-haired man had lost it, accusing him of not loving him anymore. Sephiroth never raised his voice when he was angry. His temper was not explosive, but sharp and silent like a knife. This time was no different. It had cut through Cloud to his very core, utterly terrifying him.
Sat on the silk quilts of the luxurious king-sized bed, Cloud let out the shaky breath he had been holding. He had made his decision. Tifa was right; he had to leave. While he could still see sense. Sephiroth had left an hour ago. By now he’d be at the airport, ready to take his private jet to whatever location needed him. To think, the man would be filming a tragic romance, the irony. This was the perfect opportunity to escape. Cloud could be long gone by the time Sephiroth got back. The blond swallowed his nerves and stood up with a sudden resolve.
“C’mon Strife. You can do this. You can leave him.” He fished his cellphone out of his pocket (a model that hadn’t even been released to the general public yet) and typed in the number he had stored to memory. He knew Sephiroth checked his phone, so he couldn’t save her to his contacts. The man would never approve of him being friends with someone that hated him. Or anyone really.
Unable to stand still as the dial tone rung, he began pacing the room, hoping for his best friend to pick up swiftly. She did, much to his relief.
“Cloud?”
“I’m doing it, Tifa. You were right. I can’t stay here with him anymore,” he said, voice coming out much more brittle than he would have liked.
“All right. Everything will be fine. You remember the plan, right? I’ll be here ready and waiting for you, I promise.”
“I remember.”
“Good. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
“Yeah…” Mind racing, Cloud glanced around the room, having suddenly forgotten where everything was. It was hard to concentrate when his heart was beating a mile a minute and his chest felt like it was going to explode.
It took him a moment to find his bearings and he strode over towards the walk-in closet to find something big enough to fill with his belongings. He spotted a duffel bag shoved towards the back of one of the railings that would do just the trick. Needing his non-injured wrist, he placed his cell down on a nearby stool and fished out the bag, then lugged it towards his own section of the closet. Sephiroth had insisted he dress to impress – or more accurately – to impress him. Cloud had never been a fan of restrictive clothing, nor anything too tight, or even stuff that had inconveniently placed dangly bits that got in the way. Or labels for that matter. But Sephiroth liked to see his figure. As much of it as he could.
Still, wearing designer clothes that he didn’t like was better than wearing nothing. So Cloud took as much off the racks as he could and shoved them inside the duffel so violently that Sephiroth would have thrown a fit at the sight.
“Do you have any idea how much those cost, Cloud?” He shook the chastising voice away and continued his task, only stopping when the bag was near full. It should be enough to last him a while. The next thing he needed was cash. That one was a little trickier.
“Shit. Think, Strife, think,” Cloud mumbled to himself. Sephiroth must have kept some gil on the property. Somewhere. Then it clicked. “The safe.”
Dumping the duffel on the floor, he picked up his cell and left the bedroom to head towards Sephiroth’s study. Thankfully, the door wasn’t locked. Not that he expected it would have been. Cloud wasn’t much for snooping around and this was a room he tended to avoid. If Sephiroth was in it, it usually meant he was brooding, and those sessions were best left undisturbed.
From what he remembered, the safe was built into the wall, behind the hand-painted portrait of his mother – Jenova – a lady with such a unique, ethereal beauty. Moving her out the way, he was met with a numbered keypad.
“Dammit,” he cursed.
“What’s the matter?” Tifa asked.
“I need a passcode for his safe. It’s the only place that I know of to find some gil.”
“You don’t have any of your own?”
“It’s… complicated.” Sephiroth had ensured he never had access to money as he had insisted he pay for everything. If Cloud wanted something, he had to ask for it. A notion that had never been a problem until now. He really had been a fool to fall under such a dependent spell.
“I see. Do you have any ideas?”
“Maybe…” He searched his brain for a moment. Then typed the first numbers he could think of: 190886. The locked clicked open, revealing a small fortune’s worth inside.
“Did it work?”
“My birthday… Sephiroth really did choose my birthday…” Cloud muttered. He was hesitating now. Perhaps he had it all wrong? Maybe Sephiroth really did care about him deep down? It was such an obvious passcode. He really must have trusted him enough to know that he’d never steal from him.
“Cloud listen to me. He doesn’t love you. He’s obsessed with you. There is a difference.”
“I…” He was at a loss for words as his thoughts continued to contradict what he was feeling.
“Cloud, this is the first time you’ve ever called me. This is the first time you’ve told me you wanted to leave. That has to mean something, right? He must have done something different this time. Something that made you realize… did he hurt you?”
Cloud didn’t answer.
“That bastard,” Tifa grated out, clearly having slammed her fist into something solid on the other side of the phone, perhaps a table. “You trust me, right?”
“Yeah…”
“Then please just listen to me. I know it’s hard. I know that you think you care about him. And maybe you actually do because emotions are complicated. But Cloud… he hurts you. And you are smart enough to know that’s not right. You deserve better and I just want you to be safe.”
Cloud was silent as he looked down at the finger shaped bruises around his wrist. He knew deep down that he should never have to see marks like that littering his skin. Nor should he have that constant fear in the back of his mind that he was doing something wrong. Even though he was somewhat aware things like that weren’t normal for everyone else, they still felt normal to him. His own reality had been warped, like he had subconsciously pulled himself out of what he knew was right and wrong and gotten the two confused.
“Cloud?”
“I’m still here. Was just thinking is all,” he said. A large part of him really didn’t want to leave Sephiroth. The part that clung to all the good things about him. All those sweet words. All those times he was the centre of Sephiroth’s universe. The ones where he was made to feel important. But then he remembered the acute anxiety. Being around Sephiroth was like being outside in a lightning storm. Beautiful from a distance but terrifying up close. Could he really live like that forever? Caught between one extreme and another? The answer was no. He couldn’t.
“How much do I need to travel?” Cloud asked.
“To get here will probably cost about six hundred gil,” Tifa replied. Cloud reached into the safe and took exactly seven hundred. He didn’t want the temptation of being able to afford to get back, this had to be a one-way ticket. But he wasn’t foolish enough to not bring a little extra, just in case. He closed the safe. That amount of gil was less than pocket change to Sephiroth, he’d never even notice it missing.
Steeling his nerves, he headed back into the bedroom and slung the duffel over his shoulder. The hardest part was about to begin.
“Tifa, I’ll have to go now. I guess I’ll see you when I get there,” Cloud said. He knew Sephiroth well enough that he’d probably had a tracker installed on his phone. The sooner he got rid of it, the better.
“All right. Be safe, Cloud. I can’t wait to see you.”
“Mn.” With no small amount of reluctance he hung up. From this point on, he was on his own. A leap to be made solo. “I can do this.”
He was halfway out the door when he noticed something that he had almost stupidly left behind. On a set of opulent drawers besides the door was a photograph, the only one Cloud had of his childhood. He stopped in his tracks and picked up the sleek modern frame. It was a picture of he and his mother back when they lived in Nibelheim. He must have been about eight or nine. Realization struck as he realized what leaving meant.
“I’m sorry, Mom… I…” He was condemning her. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away before they could fall. She’d understand. She had too. She was his mom. With somewhat shaky fingers, he unclasped the back of the frame and slid the aged photograph out from within, to instead be carefully placed in his pocket. He had barely finished the action when his phone suddenly began to buzz, causing the frame he was holding to slip from his startled fingers and clatter against the floor.
When the caller ID flashed on his screen, Cloud felt his stomach clench. Sephiroth. If he didn’t answer within three rings, the man would know something was up. He had no choice. His thumb hovered over the green button until the last second.
“H-Hey Sephiroth,” he greeted, trying his best to breathe through the panic.
“Cloud, is everything okay? You sound alarmed,” Sephiroth said, his deep drawl laced with suspicion.
“I’m fine… I’m just tired.”
“You’re lying.”
“I’m not,” Cloud responded, a little too quickly.
“Cloud, I told you to never lie to me.” The tone on the other end sharpened, triggering a wave of dread to flood Cloud’s system. If he found out what he was up to, he could have security keep him on lockdown. He wouldn’t be able to escape. And Sephiroth would be so mad.
“I…”
“It’s because I hurt you, isn’t it?” Sephiroth let out a sigh, one that may have even been guilty. “I shouldn’t have done that. You know I hate causing you pain. You are my treasure, you know that, right, darling?”
“Yeah… I know.”
“Then you understand how I felt when you turned me down? Why I got angry.”
“Yeah… I’m sorry.” Cloud’s heart stuttered in his chest. He wasn’t sure if he did actually understand. But this was the response that Sephiroth liked to hear and appeasing him tended to make everything better.
“I promise I’ll make it up to you when I get back. We’ll go out for dinner, someplace nice.”
“I’ll look forward to it.” The lies were tasting more and more bitter.
“I can ask one of the staff to look at your wrist, if you want?”
“It’s fine. I’ll just put some ice on it.”
“All right. I’ll see you in a few days. I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Cloud said. The phrase came out easy, as if the words didn’t truly hold their value. Perhaps they didn’t. Perhaps they never did. Hearing the sound of the dial tone, Cloud took one last look at the home screen photograph of he and his soon to be ex, taken from a moment when he may have actually considered himself happy. Then, he let the cellphone slide from his grasp. The screen cracked at it made contact with the wooden floor, distorting the once meaningful image. To finish the job, Cloud brought his boot down on top of the device. Completely obliterated, he scooped up the electronic scraps, worried that Sephiroth would find a way to somehow fix the thing. He’d get rid of the pieces during his journey, just to be completely sure.
The only thing left to do was avoid the staff. Although they treated Cloud with the upmost respect, it was still Sephiroth who signed their paychecks. If he aroused suspicion, they’d be the first to inform him. Luckily, it was late evening, so most of the cleaning staff had already gone home. He just had to avoid the butler. And the chef, both of whom slept on the property. And then of course, the security team. The front gate was off limits if he wanted to remain inconspicuous. Not that he knew the passcode for that either.
“What if someone sees you leaving? What if someone takes a photograph? You know I have to maintain my image as a single man. It’s part of my contract. You have to be my dirty little secret, Cloud. But I like it that way, don’t you? Besides, why would you need to go out when you have everything you need here with me?” He remembered Sephiroth saying that to him in his ever-present purr. He couldn’t remember why he wanted to go outside that day. But he knew after those words he had changed his mind. He quickly became put off by the idea of leaving the estate simply because whenever he did actually go out (usually with Sephiroth), it always had to be done in such a clandestine manner that it was often uncomfortable. But that was what Cloud had signed up for when he fell for the famous actor.
Shaking the thought away, he knew his only option was to head through the garden and climb over the property walls. It would be a little tricky with his sprained wrist, but there was at least a large tree that would make for an easy ascent. And Cloud was pretty good at climbing.
Hooking the duffel securely over his shoulder, Cloud snuck his way through the elaborate villa, trying to ignore every adverse thought that screamed he was doing the wrong thing. This place was still his home after all. Even if it was a bit too big and a bit too lonely.
He knew the staff entrance by the kitchens was seldom guarded, so that was the way he went. With so many rooms to hide in, it was easy to avoid contact with anyone until he eventually found his way into the elaborate garden. It was more for show than anything, as Sephiroth rarely came out here.
Breathing in the fresh air, Cloud looked up at the sky. It was nice out; the moon was shining amongst glittering stars, against a backdrop of navy. Keeping to the shadows, he made his way across the lush green fields and towards the small orchard that marked the perimeter. When he got antsy Cloud would often take a jog out here, to enjoy the breeze and the freedom of not being cooped up inside a building.
He spotted the tall tree that grew beside the outer wall and began his ascent, biting back the pain in his wrist that sought to hinder his grip. His boots skidded against bark as he clambered onto a thick branch and pulled himself up to temporarily perch. From this height, he’d be able to leap onto the wall and… escape? The thought startled him. Once he was over that wall, there was no going back. His relationship with Sephiroth would officially be over. Cloud bit his lip and winced as it stung. His blue eyes trailed back towards the life he’d be leaving behind. He’d be alone. Sure, he’d have Tifa, but that wasn’t nearly the same. He loved her, but in a very different way. But if he stayed, he’d be trapped here, and the cycle would continue. He knew that. And thinking about it, he was never really sure the luxury life really suited him.
Mustering up what was left of his courage, he closed his eyes and breathed out the words that would hopefully bring him the closure he needed to move on: “Goodbye, Sephiroth.” And with that, he leapt onto the wall and then onto the grassy plains below. The only way he could now, was forward.