[Edit: I wrote this quite a while ago, years, actually. Still, I couldn't help but read it again, and I found quite a few mistakes, so I worked on it for days, along with my husband (he's an angel to help), and here it is.]

Hey all! Firstly, I'd like to thank you for taking the time to read this. Chapters are super long, so I broke it up so it would be easier to manage. I really put my heart and soul into it. I welcome any and all constructive criticism you have for me. I would be more than delighted to recieve any and all feedback. More than anything, thank you again for your time. I hope you guys enjoy it!

So without further ado:
Title: Serendipity
By: Seiferdragon
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy and would never claim to do so. Too much responsibility in that, lol. That honor belongs to Square Enix and company. I am merely a fan of which, and this is merely an act of fan fiction. Hence where and what it is.


It was in the unconventionally shaped flower bed on the northern side of the cemetery where I finally realized that my reason for living had vanished right before my eyes. There were a plethora of thoughts running through my head, but I couldn't form spoken word, nor solid thought, out of them. My mind was racing, but my thoughts were vacant. It was like I wasn't there; like I wasn't really thinking at all. I kept wondering why I couldn't hear anything, but my eyes wouldn't leave that covered six-foot-deep hole in the ground.

From where my eyes were resting I couldn't see anyone else around. It didn't matter, really. They could have left me here if they wanted to. I wouldn't question it, nor would I object.

I noticed the sunlight coming from overhead was fading slowly, and being replaced promptly by an eerie glow. I looked around me and saw that everyone was indeed gone. Everyone except of course, for my mother, who was standing beside me, still silently crying, but no longer wanting to be there. Yet she would stand there and wait for me, until her dying breath if that's how long it took.

My eyes drifted back to the bouquet of tulips and daffodils that sat atop the freshly laid dirt. The single, thin, baby blue ribbon flapped in the wind, but then ceased, and there was silence.

I looked up, ahead of the hills, and saw the moon, an imperfect Crescent, was standing smugly where the sun should have been. Without moving my eyes, I murmured to my mother. "Where is she?" I didn't need to be any more specific. Mother knew who I was talking about.

"She went home with your aunt. I thought it would be best for tonight." I didn't respond.

I couldn't tell her my feelings about that. I didn't have any.

I turned around and walked down the hill, close to, but not on, the paved stone path leading down to the parking lot. I noticed my family car a stone's throw away and walked over, opened the door in one liquid movement, and looked inside. The car seat was still placed in the back on the driver's side, but the seat next to it was now empty.

It would be empty, I figured for the rest of the car's lifespan.

I sat down in the front passenger side and allowed my bare, hollowed thoughts to occupy me until my mother finally got down here to join me in the car.

She started up the engine without a word, not even reminding me to put my seatbelt on, like she religiously did. She backed up, and together we headed home. Or so I thought- instead we pulled up to a privately owned burger joint and sat at a table, staring blankly at the menu, listening to the other diners frolic merrily.

I stared at the metallic napkin container as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. Staring blankly back at my dead-pan expression. I looked horrible. I felt horrible. I stared at myself, completely disregarding anyone and everyone who walked passed. My mother knew what I would have. She knew I would hardly eat it, too. What she didn't know, though I did, even then, was that I would only be half the person I was.

That was ten years ago.

On this particular day, the anniversary of his death, I lay here, where the flower bed used to be, staring at the sky, watching the clouds pass by without a care in the world. The weather couldn't be any more perfect. Everything felt numb- comfortable. I suppose I'd rather feeling nothing than pain.

I watched the clouds pass by, shapes floating along the sky, drifting along without a care in the world. That sounded wonderful- I would have liked to be like that too, one day. The day soon ended, leaving me lying there alone with even the sun leaving me behind. As the sun hid behind the clouds, I realized that tonight it would indubitably storm. The rain would fall, and the lightning would strike, and the world would stop to make way for the storm to pass. The night's sky would so strongly resemble the sea on a night like this. They would merge together and be impossible to tell apart. They would transfuse and become inseparable.

I sat up and brushed off my shirt, getting rid of the weeds that collected on my stomach. There was a bug on me, so I picked up and placed on a flower nearby. He'd be happier there than on me, anyway. I got up and walked down the path, which had since been repaved and improved with more details. I saw my car sitting across the parking lot. In the shade underneath the large weeping willow tree, which leaned largely to the left. If you hadn't seen this tree before, you would have thought it was falling over. In fact, as a child, I truly believed this tree was crying. Irony, really, that the tree that was deemed least likely to make it was the one that was striving.

My red, 1998, Ford Escort sat there gathering loose leaves that were floating across the open air. I didn't bother to wipe them off. I got inside and looked at the blank radio panel. I turned the key in the ignition and backed out of my parking spot. I headed down the street, not bothering to turn my turn signal to make my way onward, down the main street. There wasn't anybody out here.

I looked at the clock, which was a few minutes off. Honestly, I wasn't sure how to fix it. I don't think I would have even if I knew how. I drove about a mile heading north, and turned on the next route, heading east, to the ocean. When I had arrived everyone was starting to leave. It would be a good walk without the noise of all the usual beach-goers. No kids would be a nice bonus too. Kids were noisy creatures. I popped the trunk and walked to the back of the car. I pulled off my tennis shoes and placed them inside, grabbing my jacket, I closed the trunk and headed out for my walk.

I carried my jacket for now, since it wasn't so cold… yet. The sand was still warm on my feet. I headed closer and closer to the shore, watching the people gathering up their beach towels and heading back to the parking lot. Some were still hanging out at the burger shack, sipping on their drinks, nibbling on their pizza slices. Seagulls were flocking over abandoned fries on the boardwalk, calling friends and family over to enjoy the feast together. I wondered if they knew the rain was coming. I wondered if they knew or even cared.

It was peaceful, the calm before the storm. As I headed farther down the beach, I saw fewer and fewer people. The sun was still going down, leaving me in the dark. The street lights along the boardwalk were turning on one by one. The water splashing against my bare feet was cold, much colder than I anticipated, but I decided to deal with it until I could adapt to it. The air was fresh and the smell of salt was strong. The water was seeping up my pants leg, but despite the cold, I strutted forward, making my way to whom-knew-where.

I figured I would walk until the end of the beach, which was only signified by a bridge with a sign above it, welcoming people into the town. That wasn't too far from here, and then I would turn around to go home. A short walk, but it was something. The wind picked up, and the smell of the salt was making me thirsty. I headed off the shoreline, and stopped by a little seaside shop, I felt I was bothering the girl who was working there, since they were in the midst of cleaning up and closing for the night. After ordering my medium sized beverage, I left my change from my gil in the tip jar as a consolation. I headed back onto the beach, walking passed the sand, which no longer felt like it was there at all. I got back to where I was walking before, heading down the waterline of the beach.

About 30 minutes later, I had made it to the end of the beach, nonchalantly sipping my Pepsi as I traveled. I turned around, having no further to go, and headed back to my car. I threw away my empty cup and saw the reflection of the flashes of lightning on the metallic. I looked up, missing the lightning, but still able to hear the thunder. I continued walking on the sand, avoiding the water this time, considering I wasn't suicidal.

The rain fell down, but I continued looking ahead, but my ability to determine distance was extremely limited. I headed down the sandy beach, letting the streetlights guide me back to parking lot XVI. I made it all the way down to parking lot XVIII when I saw someone heading toward me. As far as I could tell, it was someone big. Definitely a man. I was pretty certain I was going to be the only person on the beach tonight, so his presence surprised me a little.

I hesitated slightly. Then continued as if nothing was happening. I was slightly intimidated, I'll admit, but somehow I knew in my blood that I would be just fine. That fleeting thought of danger left me and I was assured of serenity. He was a blond guy, though his hair was darkened by the moisture- short hair as far as I could tell. He was a tall guy, big and bulky. Compared to me, and my 5'8" frame, anyway.

We came within two feet of each other and we both stopped. "Hello." His voice was deep, and low pitched. He raised an ironic eyebrow as he talked. If he were a woman, I would assume he was challenging me. However, he was more of a man than I was, and I was flabbergasted over everything about him.

I nodded in greeting, which seemingly disheartened him. He looked up and down the boardwalk and looked back at me.

"That way leads to the twenties, right?" He asked, hesitantly. I hoped he didn't want to depend on me to tell him directions, but he didn't really seem that interested in the setup of the beach's parking lots anyway. He had come walking down from the opposite direction, seeing the signs as he traveled. He knew what he was doing. He probably had no other way to start a conversation. I determined later, that was his goal all along.

I once again nodded, but he was still unrelenting in his attempts to get me to communicate. "I'm on my way to Winhill." He explained.

"Okay...?" I said in an exaggerated, bored tone, shifting my weight to my other foot in order to feel comfortable again. What the hell did he want? Couldn't he just go to that rundown shack and leave me the hell alone? Of course, I had never been to Winhill, I had simply heard someone mention it once or twice. It was nothing special. Just a run-down pile of shit.

"Well, do you think you could help me out?" He looked up, toward the sky, having an extremely distant, blasé look on his face. If he was trying to piss me off, he certainly accomplished his goal. This man, who I had never even thought of in my entire life was standing here, asking me to help him get into a derelict place like Winhill, on another fucking continent. He was out of his fucking mind, and I was about the same for standing here like a dumbass, listening to him and his bullshit. I hated this jackass and I wanted to get the fuck out of here. I spread my legs farther apart, preparing my body to look bigger and more threatening.

"What the fuck? Are you aware you're not even on the right continent? Do you have any fucking idea what you're talking about?" I realized just how weird that must have been for him, almost. I figured, as weird as it had been for this random guy to approach me in the middle of the night, during a heavy thunderstorm. Though, as I stopped to notice, the rainfall had finished completely. The air was still moist and the smell of the wet sand overpowered the salt. I didn't particularly like this smell, but it didn't bother me either. The storm had come to an end and I hadn't even noticed. He was still standing there, looking at me, as if neither of us had said a word.

"Well, where are you headed?"

"Balamb." I don't know why I told him. Maybe it slipped out before I could think of a good lie.

Maybe, even then, I wanted him to know.

He smirked a little. "Well, shit, there's a dock in Balamb, right?"

"There's docks everywhere on the coast, asshole." I started walking again, this time with the full intent to find my car and get the hell out of here. I don't think I would ever come back- not after this shit. He completely ruined the concept of this place for me. So much for peace and quiet. Much to my dismay, he followed me.

"C'mon, just let me hitch a ride to you to Balamb." His whiny voice didn't suit him at all, and it was irritating.

"Look, buddy," I grunted turning around. "I don't even KNOW you. Get the fuck out of here before I call the cops." I didn't know if I was really in a position to be making threats, but I was too frustrated to care. Never in my life had someone been this irritating to me. Never before had someone lit my fuse as quickly as this stranger had. He stopped following me- but only because I stopped walking. When I turned around to continue on, he pursued me once again.

I made it to my car and simply got in, locking the driver's seat door as I sat down. I always kept the other doors locked, so I was good for now. He just stood there, though, watching me pull out of the driveway. Before I knew what was going on, he jumped behind my car, and I was going to slam right into him. I slammed on my breaks and let out a high-pitched scream at the steering wheel. I rolled my window down, "What the fuck is your problem?" I roared, loud enough for anyone on the beach to hear- if there was anybody- highly doubtful.

"I have about 2500 gil. It's yours if you take me to Balamb." Although 2500 gil wasn't much to wave a stick at, the fact that he was trying to make offers made me all the more irritated, my mind was becoming exhausted. I didn't feel like yelling anymore. All his offenses would be forgiven- for now. I let out a long sigh. There was no way I could escape. I figured if his psychopath was going to kill me, he would have done it already. If I drove him to Balamb, maybe, just maybe, he might leave me the fuck alone. That, or I could just ditch him somewhere. I didn't know what other choice I had. I somehow knew that I was going to regret this.

I leaned over and unlocked the passenger's seat door. I sat back down and stared blankly at the steering wheel. He took quite a while to open the door. Maybe he was surprised; then again, maybe he was gloating. I didn't look to find out, after all. He closed the door behind him, and stared at me, from what I could see from my peripheral vision. I refused to look at him. I refused to even acknowledge his existence. I backed up and drove off the beaches' parking lot to the highway, which was empty at this time of the night. I glanced at the clock, reading 3:15. It was about two thirty in the morning then.

While keeping my eyes on the streetlight lit road, I pushed the radio's button in. The volume was down, so I turned it up to hear louder static. I made a left turn and started thumbing at the radio selection buttons. I wasn't getting any reception.

"Maybe you should pay attent-"

"Shut the hell up, asshole. I'm doing what you want, so just shut up."

"But-"

Too late. We both jerked forward, and I almost came in contact with the windshield. The horrible crashing noise echoed through the interior, forcing my teeth to grind together with animosity. As the passenger's side collided with the tree, all I could think about was whether or not I was going to live. Part of me also wondered about my, for the most part, unwelcome passenger, but it was his own damn fault for wanting this stupid ride so bad. It wasn't that bad of a crash, but it was enough to total the car. I looked to the right of me and saw him sitting there, with, not a smug look, like I had expected. Just an empty, blank stare. Deadpan. It suited him better than his whining at least.

"Sorry. I jinxed you."

It struck me a little peculiar that I wasn't angry. I was entirely calm about the whole thing. Maybe it was because I deserved it. Maybe I was just out of touch with reality. Whatever it was that made me shrug it off as nothing, it was a powerful force. I stared at the blond stranger beside me. He looked familiar. Maybe I went to high school with him. There were a lot of people whose faces I had forgotten who recognized me.

"...Shut up, asshole." Except this time, it wasn't particularly meant to be insulting.

What could I do? He was right. I opened the door and got out of the car. He followed suite and together we stared at it. It was scrap-metal now. It was an older car- not even worth fixing. I shrugged to myself. I wondered what he was thinking about my lack of emotion over this. Maybe I had just overexerted myself and wasted my energy on him.

"Well, we can't just leave it here." The man I now referred to as "wise idiot" mumbled. He got behind the car and started to push it off the road. Not that it was that far away in the first place.

He was a big brawny guy so it was hardly anything for him. Big Ogre- that's what he was. After he finished pushing the car he shrugged at me. "I suppose you should have this towed."

"I'll do it tomorrow." I meant 'possibly later today' but that didn't feel as good on the tongue.

"Well, less talkin', more walkin'." He grunted and walked over to me. He took my arm and forcibly turned me around. For some reason, this didn't bother me as much as I thought it should. Perhaps it was because his personality thus far had been extremely assertive. Perhaps it was because I didn't have any ideas of my own. Was I really that susceptible to his personality?

"Hold on a second." I pulled away from him. I got back in the car and attempted to pull out the key. It wouldn't budge. Shit.

"It's no use. It's not going to start." He grunted at me.

This time, instead of my usual barking at him, I answered him calmly. "I'm not trying to start it. I'm trying to pull the key out."

"Let me try." I looked at him, shrugged and backed out of the car. He slipped in and gripped the steering wheel nice and tight. He gave the key a good yank and out it came.

"...Thanks." I took it from him and opened the trunk for the final time. I pulled out my shoes and tossed them on the ground. It was only then I realized I had been driving barefoot. I tossed my cheap windbreaker jacket back in the car, never caring to see it again. I slipped the shoes right on without untying them. I closed the trunk and followed the idiot down the highway. I didn't know why the hell I was following him. I didn't know where the hell he was going, and I was better off just going back to the beach and sleeping on the sand. Instead, there I was following him along. Was I drunk?! What the hell was wrong with me?

I watched him walk from behind, seeing his arm muscles rippling with each swing. His legs were just as muscular. He was one of the smarter dumb guys who knew if he worked too much on upper body, his legs would become his weak point. He was attractive, yes, but that wasn't why I was staring. He looked like him. So much like him. Even if it was just from behind. He looked so much like-.

I felt my body rip in two. My inner thoughts and feelings were splattered on the ground, regurgitating all their contents out and all over the place. What was left, my carnal bodily desires, slipped me into a subconscious state, and I reached for him. I wanted to feel his skin underneath my fingertips, wanted to feel the warmth of his body heat. Wanted to feel him breathing, alive again.

"What?" He said, turning around to face me. He didn't have a condescending or mocking expression like I had expected, rather, he was calm, and trying to be understanding.

The pieces of my body formed back together, making me whole again. I had never been so embarrassed, and trying to hide it from him was no easy task. He just shrugged, and smiled at me, as if it was perfectly normal to just try to touch someone like that. Well, I supposed for this man, who had so openly approached me for a ride to a run down hell hole like Winhill, it was normal.

"W-walk slower. I'm tired and can't keep up." A lame excuse, and an embarrassing thing to say, but he bought it like it was the last one on clearance. We walked then, side-by-side instead of me behind him. Luckily, we came across a 24-hour diner a ways down the street from my totaled car. It wasn't until seeing it that I realized how hungry I was. I hadn't eaten anything all day.

"Let's stop and eat." He said, in an authoritative tone that made my body obey without question, not that I would have done anything else. I was starving. His voice surprised me though, it wasn't the whine he had given me earlier, rather the tone of someone who was meant to lead a congregation to salvation. I didn't know this man, and yet I believed everything he said, just because of the way he said it. What the hell was I? A sheep? I hoped he wasn't a wolf.

He sat at the bar, swinging his right leg over the stool to sit. He was left-brained then. That made sense: He probably had type A blood- he seemed to have a type A personality, at least. He was probably a Capricorn. I recognized the stern look, the arch of his brow, and the 'born in the wrong time' mannerisms. I liked presuming things, as it saved me from having to ask later. I was guessing, though. I could be completely wrong and I wouldn't know about it. I didn't even know his name, after all. I glanced at the menu without reading it. It wasn't necessary to read something that was the same everywhere. The blond next to me didn't bother with it either.

He had very predominant eyes. My attention was drawn to them instantly. He had the eyes of a woman, seductive and mysterious. His long, dark eyelashes didn't help anything. If I didn't know better, I would have sworn he was wearing makeup. His head didn't turn, but I saw the sudden movement of his irises. "Stormy ocean water"- That's what the color would have been called, you know, if it was a crayon or something stupid like that. He stared at me, and I stared at him, wondering what he was thinking until a portly man came over to ask us what we wanted to order.

"A burger and fries." We said that at the same time, and I was nearly positive the man was as weirded out by that as I was. Not that it was hard to do, what the hell else did they have? I glanced at the menu again and saw a bunch of things I didn't even remember existed. I ignored it and continued to keep my gaze forward and away from the idiot beside me.

The man left to make our burgers, and the blond reached in front of my face, making me flinch and duck backward. He grabbed a napkin and straw and I relaxed again. I leaned forward, holding my chin with my elbows resting on the counter. "So..."

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow slightly, trying to get him to cut to the chase. "You got a name?" His smirk resting on his lips looked completely natural and anticipated.

I let out a cocky grunt. "No." I reached over and grabbed the silverware wrapped up in a napkin from the bar seat next to me. I unwrapped it using only my thumb. I folded the napkin, laying my silverware out atop it. Forks to the right, to the right of the knife, as I was trained to do from a young age.

"Alright then." He leaned on his elbows too, which I found irritating for whatever reason. He attempted to keep himself entertained by staring at his straw on top of his napkin, but he couldn't. Instead, he turned back to me and stared at the profile of my face. I continued to stare forward, unwilling to meet his glance, but from the corner of my eye, I saw him staring. The way he was staring at me was so intense. It was like he was the devil and he was watching, waiting for me to sin. Like he was preying on me and I was becoming more like a fish in a barrel every second.

Without even noticing, my entire head had turned, and there we were. Staring contest, winner claimed everything. It was like a heated battle; the only word I could use to describe it would be, "Armageddon". The clanking of two plates on the polished wooden counter broke both of our concentrations immediately. Our eyes, instinctively, looked to see the noise. I found it strange those instincts remained. Our food had arrived, simply enough. It saved us from the long and grueling battle that our minds wanted so desperately. What was it about him that made me like this? Just because he was irritating was no reason to be so passionate.

I shrugged it off and picked up my silverware. I cut the burger using my knife and picked it up to eat with my fork. I heard him snicker beside me and turned to look at him, fork still in hand. He was looking at me, while simultaneously dabbing the fat off his meat patty with his napkin.

"Come from a line of rich people?" He asked me, motioning with his head to my fork.

"No," I answered and looked back to my fork's contents. "Come from a line of fat people?" I asked in rebuttal, even though I knew that wasn't fair. I opened my mouth and ate my burger, he didn't seem to be insulted, rather, he took it as an opportunity to talk. I should have figured he would have.

"Well, I don't know. My father was built bigger like me, I guess. I don't know about my mother, she died a long time ago, and I can't remember her too well. I used to not be able to eat... things like this, at all. I'm just taking precautions, if I gain too much, I'll be useless." Even though I didn't know what he meant, I figured he was talking about how perfect he wanted to look. He had to use his body for his line of work, because he was a big guy, that sort of thing was expected. He had to have worked out and all that, because muscle really couldn't be given as a gift without the effort of the body.

"...Whatever." He didn't have to know how I felt about that. I finished off half of my burger and decided to eat the fries. I reached for the ketchup, but it was a bad time to do so. Our fingers touched, and it sent shock waves through me. I couldn't move or think. I was completely and utterly thunderstruck-frozen by the contact. His fingers were cold and thick. My fingers were a stark contrast, and they longed and yearned to be closer, as close as they could get to his. Like opposite sides of a magnet.

We both sat there, still, unwilling to pull our hands away. Unwilling to let the feeling of unity and euphoria end. My fingers retracted, making a loose fist, and retreated slowly. His fingers spread out and slipped down on his lap.

Why?

He took the ketchup bottle and slid it over to me. It was one of those annoying glass ones you had to pound off things to get anything out of. I smacked it against my other hand and shook it over my plate. I always felt like such an idiot when I did shit like that. I placed the lid back on and shoved it in his direction, and began to eat my fries.

He ate slowly, I noticed. Like he wanted his meal to last longer. He was a big guy, and I doubted this was enough to fill him if he was actually hungry. It wasn't a small burger by any means, but it wasn't quite enough. I polished mine off while he still had a quarter of his food left to go. He had a distant look while he ate. Chewing slowly, savoring his meal. The look across his features told me maybe he wasn't enjoying it at all. He didn't look disgusted or anything- just not fulfilled.

He swallowed his last bite and wiped off his mouth with a clean napkin. He reached over for the bill and dragged it back to his side of the table. He flipped it over and reached into his pocket. I watched him pull out more than I thought was reasonable, so I dragged the bill over closer to me. It was only 500 gil. A reasonable enough price. The idiot, however, already left the whole 500 gil on the table and was calculating the tip.

"No way," I said, pushing his money back over. I reached into my own pocket.

"It's okay. I got it." He stated. I realized his wallet was filled to the brim. He had a hard time closing it. I hated the fact that he wanted to buy me dinner. I hated it so much. I didn't care who had more money on them.

"I come from that well-to-do family, remember? I'll pay for it." I laid down the 600 gil and he let his shoulders shrug.

"All right, rich-boy." He stood up. "But I'm paying for the hotel, okay?" He pointed with his thumb to a small motel across the street. It wasn't anything fancy, but it looked clean enough. I shrugged in response.

We headed over to the motel without seeing the diner owner off, which I'm sure was fine with him. He walked inside, holding the door open so I could follow him in, and let it go. As the door slammed behind me, we walked over to the front desk. The man behind the counter was a lazy looking guy, both overweight and overwhelmed, who read his newspaper, even as we stood there before him. He glanced at us over top of the paper and let out, in a horse, but flat voice, "There's only one room left."

"That's fine." Idiot responded. I didn't care either way, since I most likely wouldn't be sleeping. My mind was still spinning with everything that happened today. I probably should have been exhausted, but I was still wide awake.

"500 gil." The man grunted, not taking his eyes off the sports page. The idiot pulled it out of his wallet, ready to hand it over, but when the man paid him no mind, he sat it on the counter. The man reached over, without looking and felt around for a key. He grabbed it and tossed it at my blond companion, who easily caught it. He shrugged at me and looked at the number on the attached key chain. He headed down the hallway and I followed him.

"Hey!" The man stopped me, I turned and glanced at him, not about to pay him as much attention as he gave us. "I thought you were a girl from the side, sorry. I can't have no queers in here."

"He's my brother." I thought of quickly, of course, it wasn't very believable, but he accepted it. It wasn't like he could deny us our right to stay here. The idiot, however, had a frown in place of his usual blank expression. I walked over, following him, as if nothing had happened. He unlocked the door and stepped inside, holding the bulky door open for me as well. Once it closed with a loud, echoing thud, he reached over and felt around for a light switch. I made my way over to the bed, somehow able to see that much in the pitch black of the room. I sat on the end of it and kicked my shoes off. He finally found the light switch, and the room was illuminated instantaneously.

It wasn't the brightest light, but it would do. I looked around the room, which was smaller than I thought. The bed was a twin, and I wasn't so sure about the cleanliness of this place anymore. Especially since the desk suggested this was some kind of hookup hotel. I looked over my shoulder and saw the attached bathroom, still darkened by the surrounding walls, only allowing me a peek of what was inside. I stood up and made my way into it, "I'm going to get a shower." I announced, only to make sure he didn't pull some asshole move like running water in the sink. I closed the door behind me, not bothering to lock it, because of how unnecessary it seemed. Maybe that was strange. Whatever.

I turned on the water, to a nice, frosty flow, and I liked it that way. I turned the center knob to make the water come from the shower head. I slipped off my shirt and tossed it on the sink heedlessly. My jeans followed, which were still moist from the ocean water. I stepped out of the boxer shorts I was wearing, tossing them over to join the rest of my clothes and stepped into the chilly water spray. It was refreshing, and awakening, unlike that idiot in the room whom only made me feel worn out and exhausted.

But oh-so-very alive.

The frigid water gave me a remarkable sensation on my skin, and it made me feel like I could deal with life again, even if just for a little bit. My body temperature rose to accommodate my surroundings, but it was too little too late, and I found myself just as comfortable. I stepped out after a quick run-through of the motel's shampoo, not bothering with soap tonight. The sand had long washed off my feet, so I felt better.

I pulled a white towel off the rack and wiped my torso and legs dry. I tossed that one onto the floor, as it was covered in sand, and picked up another towel. I wiped my arms off and began to tousle my hair dry. I allowed the porous nature of my hair to defeat me and slipped my boxers back on. I tossed the other towel to lay on the other. I still felt naked, so I slipped my t-shirt back on. That made me feel better. I wondered how unnerving I would be sharing this bed tonight.

I took my jeans and brought them out into the room with me. I placed them on an empty chair and looked over at the blond who was now sitting on the bed, reading the latest issue of Timber Maniacs. Wearing a black tank and boxer-briefs which suited him perfectly. It might have been strange to stare at the other man like this, but he didn't seem to mind. Or notice. I doubted he would care anyway- his personality was demanding and eager. He wanted attention; all eyes on him.

I walked over, closer to the bed. My first time sharing a bed with someone, and it was someone I didn't even know. If that was supposed to make me feel dirty, it wasn't working. I didn't feel awkward or bothered at all. Was it that he was too comforting, or that I had dropped my guard? I slipped in beside him, ignoring the tight fit, and he finally seemed to notice the presence of my cold, wet body.

He gave me a once over and sat up. "That guy was right, you do kinda look like a woman."

"Well, gee thanks. That makes me feel a lot better."

"I didn't know it bothered you."

"It doesn't. I don't care." He didn't have to know anything. Apparently, I was good at playing hurt. Still, it was kind of annoying. Well, if he felt like being an asshole, I could be one too. "Besides- It spares me from having to deal with you."

"Oh? And how's that?" He smirked, cockily. He thought he had won, but I knew he had lost.

"You wouldn't be interested in anything feminine." I was using my usual, dry sense of humor, which I wasn't sure he caught onto right away. He blanched. I allowed myself to smirk.

"How'd you know?" He asked, quietly.

"Just a hunch." I shrugged. "The way you looked at that guy at the desk didn't hurt my hypothesis either." I turned my body to face him, as he was facing me.

"Well, you're still here, so it obviously doesn't bother you." His lips remained parted, like he wanted to say more. He didn't, though and I decided, for once to keep the conversation going.

I didn't know what it was about him, but he made me want to discuss things. He made me want to know, want to understand. "I never said it did." I saw him close his mouth completely and look away, up toward the ceiling. My words had made him feel at ease, as his body relaxed without his consent or detection.

"Well, I never said I wouldn't be interested in anything feminine. You made that assumption all by yourself." He looked back at me, straight in the eye. His eyes were still as womanly as ever. I wasn't making fun of him- not by a long shot. Seifer's eyes were beautiful, as beautiful as he was.

"Well, how do you figure?" I challenged. Perhaps, if the eyes truly were a window to the soul, he had a woman's heart. That would suit him, I figured- a big brawny guy like that would probably be into flowers or something. He needed some kind of balance. After all, if the world was turned upside down, there had to be some kind of magnetism to hold you down to it.

"I'm interested in you." He mumbled into his arm, which was placed underneath his head. Somehow, from his facedown position he was still able to look at my face.

"Oh?" I asked. "That's too bad." I turned away from him and allowed a smirk to replace my usual straight line of a mouth. He let out a snort and placed his hand on my arm. He rubbed at it, and for whatever reason, I allowed him.

"What's your name anyway?" He asked again. I contemplated what I should say, but I figured I ought to at least know the name of the person I was sharing a bed with.

"Squall." I said, allowing that to slip into his ears. I knew it was a weird name. I grew up hearing that with every attendance checking teacher or every random adult that my mother introduced me to.

"Oh, yeah?" He sat up and scooted over, closer to me allowing the outlines of our bodies to blur together. "That's a good name for someone like you."

"Someone like me?" I raised an eyebrow at him, allowing him to rest his arm on my stomach, if only to save us the room. Perhaps I was accepting his flirting, and flirting back with him.

"Yeah, It's unusual—like you, a storm, a whirlwind—chaos, it suits you perfectly." I laid my left arm over my eyes to shield them from the light, and the blonde's onslaught of comments.

"And you?"

I ignored his compliments—if you could call them that, not out of complete disinterest, but rather, due to the sudden and abrupt answer he gave me. It was embarrassing.

"...Seifer." He hesitated, and that made me think he was lying. I suppose he had plenty of reasons to lie, but it was irritating to find him being misleading when I was being flat out honest.

I removed my arm and looked at him, trying to figure him out. To be honest, and to the extent of my knowledge about him, Seifer's name was much more unusual and authentic than mine. "Most people call me 'Cross' though." He continued, "No one calls me by my real name, anymore."

I wasn't sure how I felt about his nickname. It didn't really suit him, but the symbol on the forearm of his trench coat clearly explained everything. Although, I wasn't sure about Seifer's religious affiliations. "Your prison name?" I joked. He seemed to appreciate my dryer sense of humor, which was a rarity I didn't come across often enough. A snicker was all I needed.

It was pleasant to know that he was sharing my wavelength. Even more pleasurable to allow him into my world, even just a little. I didn't know it could feel this good to allow someone to take you away from your comfort zone. -Then I found it suddenly discouraging. He was probably the only person who could take me away from being my cold, aloof self.

"Well, with a pretty face like that, you can't be too straight yourself." He observed. I could tell that he wanted to touch me, but I wasn't about to let him get away with something like that. Well, with the exception of his muscular arm laying on my stomach.

"I never really thought about it, to be honest." I mumbled.

"Well then, let me kiss you."

"Do what now?" I watched him, trying to figure him out- was he serious? What could he possibly want from me? I had nothing unusual to offer him. My lips were as still cold from that shower. "...Alright, I guess." Did I change my mind that quickly because I really wanted him to kiss me? I wasn't sure. Maybe I was eager to throw away my "childhood", which seemed to be plagued by a shadow of mystery and uncertainty.

Maybe I wanted to become an adult and relax now. It wasn't like my lips were sacred or anything. If he wanted to kiss me, by all means, I would let him. There were certain things in life that people held precious but were so meaningless you could have tossed it away years ago, and been without it for the rest of your life, never thinking back on the day when you finally rid yourself of what you thought was important. That's how I felt anyway. I would let him kiss me. No matter what happened afterward. I would do this without regrets, without feeling something missing or wanting something to replace the feeling I had.

So I nodded and laid there, on my back staring up at him. He gladly crawled over top of me, his left leg swinging over my torso to the other side of me. Not the most sensual way to do things, but I couldn't exactly call him, or myself, a sensual guy. I looked at him, and he looked at me. His feminine eyelashes fluttered closed, and back open, and he leaned down closer.

I felt rather stupid with my arms down against the sides of me, so I lifted them up and wrapped them around his neck, rather daintily, but there wasn't much else I could do. His body laid atop mine, but rather than suffocate me, it just gave me a blanket like feel. Of course, it was a heavy blanket, and this was summer, but with the air conditioner on it didn't feel like much at all. He had a nice scent, too. I didn't know when the last time he showered was, but this was his own personal scent. He smelled like the Earth. Like the top of a snowy mountain, surrounded by fresh, open air. There was a musky dew to him, but it was refreshing, invigorating, and energizing. He made me feel more alive than cold water would ever be able to.

His skin was smooth, and my fingertips slid over his lightly sun-kissed skin without feeling bumps and blemishes- that was until I reached the back of his shoulder, which I felt quite an abrasion. It felt like it was stitched. I ran my finger down passed it and counted them as I went. His flawless skin was so smooth, the blemish there, if you could call it that, was easy to detect and decipher. Thirteen stitches. It was a longer cut, perhaps a knife fight.

His eyes never left mine. He was allowing me to run my fingers down his shoulder, finding his vulnerabilities as if they meant nothing to him. He allowed himself to show me weakness, and for some reason it made me feel closer to him. I loved that he refused to take his half-lidded eyes off of me. I supposed he knew this was the first time I had ever done something like this. He had to have known. I was so inexperienced my fingers were shaking.

He allowed me to feel him, allowed me to take in everything visible, though his tank-top was still on and he wasn't as close as he could have been. My daintily wrapped arms pulled on him, lowering him to me. His arms slipped down, holding the weight suppressed by his forearms. He placed his nose on mine, a powerful nose, though it wasn't his most defining feature, it was certainly a focal point for his face.

I wasn't sure what to do at this point, but I couldn't keep him, or myself, waiting forever. Of course, I had never kissed anyone before, and I had to assume that he wouldn't know that. Despite that I was told I was good looking, I didn't have much experience with other people. Perhaps what my old classmate had said was true. "You're an intimidating guy, Squall."

If I was intimidating, what did that make Seifer? Persistent, maybe? I laid my head down, completely relaxing my neck, allowing him better access, and maybe, possibly, reassuring him. He took the cue and tilted his face to the side, pressing his lips against mine. Feeling their warmth overtake my entire face, making the feeling of the knot in my stomach untie easily and I felt myself coming apart.

My arms, which to this point had been loosely surrounding him, loosened even more, my fingers spread out and tightened as if they were claws. The sensation was so overwhelming, and I suddenly understood everything. I understood what was so wrong with tossing away a first kiss. It wasn't meaningless at all. It was the most enlightening thing I had ever experienced. I didn't want it to end, I would keep him there for as long as possible.

His tongue slipped out and licked against my lip. I knew my mouth had to open, but what to do after that, I hadn't a clue. I could wing it, but it was risky. It didn't matter if he wanted to make fun of me. As long as he kept the sensations coming, I would grin and bear it proudly. His tongue slipped right through and massaged itself against mine with its warm caresses.

He tasted like winter. A frigid, but heartwarming feeling, filled with passion and lust. It was as if he was driven to the fire like his life depended on it. The snow fell through, and the blizzard began. The smell of snow was everywhere. Inescapable and infallible. Passionate and consuming.

My tongue acted on its own. It brushed his teeth, slipping in and taking him over like he had done to me. Nothing but this mattered. The world couldn't tear me away from him. I couldn't be moved from this spot, regardless of how hard anyone would pull. The kiss ended too soon, but left me with something I didn't have before. It was like the missing piece had joined the rest of me. I felt complete.

There was an overpowering emotion that swept through me with some kind of ease I didn't think I could allow, and I found myself unwilling to let it go just yet. I knew in time that feeling would fade, and perhaps even the passion would be gone, but I held onto it with my fingernails dug in, and my teeth sinking, with pain shooting up my jaw. I wasn't going to let it go until I was ready. I would die before letting it go.

He rolled over on his back and laid beside me, silently staring at the ceiling and allowing the world to continue spinning. I turned to him and watched him stare. I couldn't help but wonder what he used to think, and what he was thinking now. About the world, about this room, about me. I wanted to know how he felt about me, and it was the first time I ever gave a shit.

He let out a yawn and stretched his torso out, his left arm extended. His relaxed arm made a swiping motion and ended up at the crown of my head. Not sure what to do, initially, I just allowed him to lay like that. I eventually figured it out and lifted my neck. He pulled his arm down a little farther, finally resting it underneath my shoulders.

Although he was muscular and bulky, he wasn't entirely uncomfortable. What he lacked in softness, he made up for in warmth. Thus, I found myself entirely wrapped up, and nuzzling against a man I hardly knew. It seemed fine anyway. Whatever happened tonight would be wholeheartedly consensual. Though, due to the heaviness of our eyelids, I doubted anything would happen. I looked at him, and he turned to look at me.

Somehow, we had a connection, and I rolled over to make it physical. I curled against him, placing my arm on his chest. I placed my head against his chest so I could feel his heart beating. I loved the sound of his breathing, which was sharp and steady. He had a better lung capacity than I did, but occasionally we would take in a breath at the same time, and for some reason it made us feel closer.


So that's the end of part 1 of the prologue. I hope you like it so far. If you did, luckily for you, there is lots more. =]