Final Fantasy VII, Sephiroth/Cloud, phantom pain
He lay stretched out on his bed in the privacy of his own home that he had finally bought after the ‘Stigma was defeated. There was no Tifa bothering him about brooding or Marlene’s curious questions or even Denzel’s worshipful eyes following his every action. There was only the silence of the house that would let him close his eyes and pretend.
A trunk sat against the wall, the lid open to display old familiar objects as the strong scent of Sephiroth rose from the long leather coat neatly placed on the bed, arranged in an imitation of an actual body. A vibrating plug was firmly seated in Cloud’s body, unmoving and silent for now, and he curled up next to the coat as he had so many times when it had been the body of his Master. The leather and mithryl collar around his neck was welcomed even as it added to the ache in his chest, the only injury that would never heal no matter what Zack and Aeris hoped for. His heart had been ripped from his chest in Nibelheim, leaving a phantom pain behind his ribs, and he had never truly recovered. Only his Master could heal him, but his Master was gone, stolen by the Space Bitch until only a pale mockery of him remained.
Turning his face into the leather shoulder, Cloud allowed his tears to fall as his fingers stroked the soft material. “Master, why?”