With each passing minute and hour they fought against the elation at the apparent ease of Vincent's cure. The desire to hope that his pain could be ended so quickly was intense, but they pushed it away as each new hour approached. They couldn't be certain. Not yet. So, they waited.
They waited and saw the redness of Vincent's eyes decrease and vanish--his eyes were brown; the dark richness of the earth and just as compelling. They waited and saw the almost undead pallor of his skin fade, revealing a naturally dark complexion easily colored by the sun.
Natalie made constant notes on her ever-present spiral notepad. Nearly 10 hours had passed. Occasionally, the glove would voice complaint in the form of a high-pitched whine. Natalie assumed the circulation system protested its lack of outlet for the Jenova cells. They ignored the whine with ease and pleasure.
At the 11th hour, Natalie decided they both needed sleep.
She stood, picked up the cards from the makeshift table propped on top of his claw, and set them aside onto the table by the computer. Then she gave Vincent a kiss on the cheek. "I'm exhausted." She pulled her cot closer to his bed, positioning it so she could easily gauge any adverse reaction, and plumped up the pillow. "Some sleep would do both of us good. If you feel anything odd, just wake me. Promise?"
"I will. Good night, Natalie."
She lay back, smiling up at him as she met his luscious brown gaze. "I love your eyes the best," she yawned.
Her eyes drifted closed, breathing deepening to that of sleep and dreams. Vincent watched her for a long moment, his features relaxing into a smile that softened the brown of his gaze. His night vision had faded, so he found it challenging to clearly see her features in the shadows. But his heart pounded with this new reality to her. Human. Real. He saw her.