winter mannequin
under the snow flakes
your eyes were on me and you smiled
a bit too ghostly, maybe, but still angelic enough to me
--
Thick layer of snow was bestowed upon the land, angelic dust whirled in mid air forming a vortex that moved in abstract patterns—almost like dancing—and joined the cold gust. White torrent shrouded everything in its chilly embrace, painting everything pale leaching all existing colors away. Footprints gnawed at the now ashen ground, moved away from the shelter and its warmth in a steady pace.
He stopped at a certain point. Breath coming out in small flurry of icy pants, he shifted his gaze towards a big tree that stood out in the field, its branches that had been laden with verdant leaves were now covered with snow; frosts dangling from their twigs, like tears that had been frozen over time.
His eyes moved down and the figure he'd been expecting to see was right there.
She was always there. Either standing or sitting, she was always there. Staring at him from a distance, gaze unwavering. He used to wonder why the others said they didn't see a thing whenever he mentioned a girl standing under that tree. Today, just like the other day, the girl was there looking at him. Snow flakes billowing and twirling around her—as if to enchant him, entice him, lure him to come closer.
He decided to approach the girl.
She was about his age with ebony hair falling to her shoulders and hazel eyes radiating warmth albeit the chilly wind that whacked their comfort and body temperature. Her face was pale, almost as white as the snow around her—but her cheeks were tinted pink just the slightest.
For a long moment they just stared at each other. Hazel orbs diving into a cerulean sea, silence suspended in the air.
A sudden strong current of wind snapped him out of his trance. He opened his mouth and asked, "What are you doing here?" the question sounded brusquer than he'd intended.
The girl, unfazed, slumped to the ground. Her countenance contorted into a radiant-sunshine-smile as she looked up at him. "I like to stay here," she flailed her arms. "It's my favorite place!"
He gave her a quizzical look. "You're always here. Don't you get cold?"
Her smile didn't falter; she shook her head, black strands of hair whipping at her face. "No. I love it here!" the girl adjusted her blue coat and patted the spot next to her, beckoning for him to sit too. He did, after a quick contemplation. "Who are you?" she asked as she brought her knees up to her chin, eyes still on him.
"Squall." He answered without a second thought. There was something different about her eyes; they compelled him in, drew all his attention—he couldn't help but be lost in its course, captivated.
Her mouth formed a small 'o'. Then she clasped her hands together. "That's cool! It's like the snow…" she lifted her head, and he followed her gaze. Snow had come in tiny circles around them, but only for a while for the wind would sweep them away in the next second. "Snowstorm…the clouds…" she seemed to be in a trance then; brown eyes looking distant, wandering away at the mercy of memories.
"You always look in my direction." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. The girl beside him broke her gaze away from the skies and turned to him.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
He dared to look into her eyes again, in hopes of an answer but couldn't find any. Those eyes of her, despite the warmth and friendly aura, seemed secretive somehow. As if they were holding back grotesque, formidable shadows.
Her smile seemed different then. "I could ask you the same question."
Ever since that encounter, Squall always visited the girl. Sometimes they just stared into the distance, watching snowflakes fluttering down from the grey firmament; sometimes he just listened to her every word, watched her every gesture. They always sat side by side, shrouded under curtains of snow. Until one day, under growling skies that completely hid the sun from sight, black canvas of anger and resentment; he plowed through the snow that had been mounting over the week—after fifteen minutes of struggle Squall finally reached the lone tree.
She was there, apprehensive scowl etched across her face.
"Squall?"
It was always hard to say goodbye. God knows he sucked at it.
"I have to leave. Called to this 'Garden'—a military school, I heard. Some of us are already leaving. They thought it would be best if I leave too. Things are not getting well, they said it's better to train at such young age it's just—"
His words were all jumbled and cramped together. He didn't even know why he felt nervous. There was something clutching to his heart. It felt so heavy… As if something inside him was refusing to let go—
The girl stood up, brushed off her blue skirt, and smiled. Squall's heart stopped. The bond between them—this special bond—had been growing and growing in the past few weeks. He couldn't remember how he started visiting her; just sitting there together, sometimes they shared stories, sometimes they wandered into the forest and were lost in its white maze and whimsical tempest. Always together. As if meant to be that way.
"It's okay," she said, looking up at him, still smiling. There was something reassuring and calming about her smile, the tone she used. It eased the suspended silence, broke the growing tension.
"But—" his voice was weak, hoarse.
The snowflakes swirled in the air, the chill wind caressed their features. Hazel eyes penetrated into icy walls. The gust blew stronger. And amidst it all a whisper suppressed by the white outburst was spoken:
"I'll always be here; so, if you come here, you'll find me."
White leaves rustled in the wind. Snow-tinted stalks bent.
"I promise."
I begin to dream of eternity
A sea of snowflakes
A wish to move through time and see the winter
in your eyes again.
--
"Yo Squall, how long are you planning to sit there? We're here!"
Squall jerked his head at the call of his name. Zell, one of his comrades, was standing there; arms crossed over his chest, leaning against the compartment wall and looking impatient.
"Yeah. Right."
"Oh c'mon Squall!"
"I'll be there in a sec." He turned his gaze to the window again and Zell sighed in defeat, finally leaving the commander alone. Squall moved his fingers over the crystal-like windowpane, wiped it to get rid of the fog and continued staring out into the distance.
The lone tree from three years ago was still there. Dark against the grey skies and pale blanket that surrounded it. It looked detached from everything else. Squall scrutinized the area around it but all he saw was white. Sighing, he rose to his feet and followed his comrades outside who at the moment were almost at the villa. Zell, looking impatient again, waved his hand beckoning for him to hurry over.
Squall was trudging lazily through the thickening snow towards them when he turned his head and caught a glimpse of a figure. He halted.
He raised his hand, a gesture that told the others to go in first without him (which made Zell grumble in frustration) and walked away from the main road.
Suddenly he could see his self from years ago, marching through the snow, cold gust whistling in his ears, snowflakes blocking his vision, chill wind gnawing his body as he approached her—
Her dark hair was longer, her blue dress, her hazel eyes that seemed less lively now, her smile that garnished her face seemed weaker now—but it was her.
He couldn't say a thing. Just stood there dumbfounded. Gazing at her.
"I…you…"
Her weak smile went wider ever so slightly. "You came."
"I've always remembered."
She stood up, still smiling. Approaching him, standing on tiptoes, whispering to his ear. "My time's up. But…thank you, Squall."
He raised his hand in attempt to reach her, touch her—but her figure seemed to be made of snow; the moment his fingers touched her body, she dispersed right before his eyes. Snowflakes swirled in the air, cold gust ate away her figure. The small, ghostly smile which had adorned her face was dwindling away as the wind blew harder.
A moment later he was standing there alone. Something seemed to touch his cheek then. Maybe he was imagining things, maybe he was not. Squall looked down at his hand. "I've never forgotten." He repeated.
"Rinoa."
--
And you smiled,
a bit too ghostly maybe,
but still angelic enough to me--
it was eternity.
--fin
··· this is supposed to be posted around
December but laziness struck lol. I enjoy
writing this pairing and if this piece gets
positive feedbacks/decent reviews I'll post
a chaptered Squinoa I've had in mind for quite
a while.
edit: Pretty nice hits but so far only two
reviewed. If you read the fict could you please
also review? Motivation would be nice.
Thanks very much! reviews & feedbacks are
very much welcomed.
— ryfee
