![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Yuffie/random guy OTP!
Jan. 4th, 2007 09:34 pmYuffie thrusts her virginity away.
Two weeks spent scrounging in the woods leaves her weary and thin; the immorality she was so sure of is quickly replaced with an aching knowledge of her own weaknesses, and she survives these weeks on spite alone. When the last of her stale bread is eaten, she crawls from the wilderness to the nearest town and forces her body to march in instead of collapsing at the gates.
She washes at someone's well, scrubbing at the blood and filth that marks her a failure until the few patches of uninjured skin that she has left are rubbed raw. Freshly baptized, Yuffie heads to the inn, her father's gil jingling sweetly in her pockets, making procession music as she approaches. There she orders the most expensive meal and eats in slowly, savoring the rewards of theft. When she's finished, the bar has filled up slightly; Yuffie grins and orders drinks for her new friends, and her father's gil slips away.
By midnight, she's drunk and fumbling with the belt of some farmer's boy. In her fifteen years, she's never done so much as kissed a man, but she manages to fake the action convincingly enough that the boy pants and presses against her. He pushes, she gasps, he comes, she leaves. Her thighs sting and the bruises feel different then those she got in the forest, and she bleeds almost for an entire week, but Yuffie tells herself that she's glad to be rid of the last remnant of the princess.
Two weeks spent scrounging in the woods leaves her weary and thin; the immorality she was so sure of is quickly replaced with an aching knowledge of her own weaknesses, and she survives these weeks on spite alone. When the last of her stale bread is eaten, she crawls from the wilderness to the nearest town and forces her body to march in instead of collapsing at the gates.
She washes at someone's well, scrubbing at the blood and filth that marks her a failure until the few patches of uninjured skin that she has left are rubbed raw. Freshly baptized, Yuffie heads to the inn, her father's gil jingling sweetly in her pockets, making procession music as she approaches. There she orders the most expensive meal and eats in slowly, savoring the rewards of theft. When she's finished, the bar has filled up slightly; Yuffie grins and orders drinks for her new friends, and her father's gil slips away.
By midnight, she's drunk and fumbling with the belt of some farmer's boy. In her fifteen years, she's never done so much as kissed a man, but she manages to fake the action convincingly enough that the boy pants and presses against her. He pushes, she gasps, he comes, she leaves. Her thighs sting and the bruises feel different then those she got in the forest, and she bleeds almost for an entire week, but Yuffie tells herself that she's glad to be rid of the last remnant of the princess.