early mornings. this is when she realizes that they both seem to have a moment for themselves before the chaos of the day catches up to them. before rechecking routes for deliveries; before going downstairs to start breakfast and the last minute prep before the lunch rush; before kids have eaten and brushed their teeth and are dressed, they have this - a handful of minutes that can possibly sum up to less than an hour where they're alone.
one bathroom is tight for four, sometimes five, people living under one roof, but they've managed. she hears the faucet going and knows that he's already up, beginning his day. tifa doesn't shy away when she lets herself in and closes the door behind her. reaching for her toothbrush from its cup, she wets it before adding toothpaste onto the bristles.
it's such a mundane thing, perhaps even inconsequential, and she can hear denzel's voice in her head telling her about the importance of dental hygiene as if it's the most important topic in the world. technically, he's not wrong, but the thought almost makes her sputter out a laugh and it's obvious that she's trying to suppress a grin.
before she begins brushing her teeth, she looks at cloud and that almost grin turns into a soft smile; she can see their reflection in the mirror from the corner of her eye.
"you know i love you, right?" she says and leans a little closer to kiss him on the cheek before starting her morning routine.
Routines are comforting. A sequence of well-planned, predictable events. Predictable means normal. As close to normal as their little mismatched family can get.
Cloud is half-staring at the network of water stains on the mirror when he notices Tifa is looking at him while she’s brushing her teeth. Scrub scrub scrub. He smiles back at her through the minty foam that collects around the corners of his mouth and a toothbrush that doesn’t quite stop moving.
That’s not fair. His brow furrows, his hands and face are still occupied. He can’t reciprocate without making a fool of himself. Cloud finishes his two minutes of mandated brushing, rinses, and gives Tifa a little frown to make his displeasure known. “Could’ve waited ‘til I finished,” he grumbles, resting a hand at the small of her back and leaning over to press a kiss against the back of her neck while she washes her face. “I love you too,” Cloud says back, allowing the warmth of his words to ghost over her skin. He hopes it tickles.
Leaning back, he gives her a neat, playful pat on the seat of her pants and makes for the door. “See you downstairs.”