AMBERLUST

By Pocky King Windy

Disclaimer: These characters belong to SQUARE-ENIX ©. The fanfiction belongs to me.

Warning: Yaoi, please don't read if you don't like this. Flamers are retards, encompassing a really low IQ equivalent that that of a glass of water… less, in fact. The back button exists because Microsoft happened to realize the need for it for specific people. Use it, okay?

Plot Cockroach: Not all stories have a happy ending, particularly when Windy's just been in an argument.

Pairing: Fayt x Albel

Summary: Fayt finally finds the courage to tell his companion, Albel the Wicked, his feeling of admiration harbored for him.

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The seashore was warm and the sun was just setting. The party had chanced on this tiny little shoreline area while on their journey to the northern towns. They'd decided to take a break; everyone was tired out. Cliff had fallen right asleep the moment his head touched the bark of a palm tree, and the rest… well, they took five minutes for the final knockout. The only ones left awake were Fayt and Albel.

Fayt was nervous. He was tired, but he just couldn't sleep.

The young man kept fiddling with his shirt, his long ivory fingers running up and down the fabric. It wasn't the first time he felt like that. He hated to admit it, but he was about constantly anxious whenever the unpredictable Albel was around. There were times when he would just sit down and admire the tall, strapping, handsome warrior and there were times when he would just… turnpinkinthefacethinkingaboutAlbel. That way.

He blushed.

And caught sight of said warrior stealing a somewhat curious glance his way.

Made him blush harder, that.

He looked away, trying his best to calm down. This was stupid! It wasn't like Albel was going to kill him for something like that! …Or maybe he would.

"What is it, maggot?"

"YAH—Nothing!" Fayt jumped as a shadow loomed over him.

"I see," Albel put a hand on his hip and leaned against a palm tree overlooking the ocean. "You looked spaced away. Afraid to die?"

"I guess."

"Hmph," was all the man could muster, seeming a little dispirited at Fayt's lack of chattiness. It wasn't as if Albel liked chattiness for that matter, but this was odd. Normally the young man was curious and concerned and he'd ask questions and try to ease the tension… but now, he just seemed quiet and deep in thought. Not that that wasn't normal either. Fayt could have easily passed of as the model for the famous block of marble, alias The Thinker.

Fayt stole yet another shy glance at him, and looked down.

He had to say something. It was already reflecting in his fighting ability. His distraction would prove to be fatal…

The blue-haired youth looked around at the rest… they were all asleep. This was his one and only chance; and he wasn't sitting very close to them in case they did hear him if any of them were pretending to be asleep. At once, his heartbeat picked up a notch, sending yet more blood to his already flushed face. Beads of sweat formed on his porcelain skin around his temples, and his knuckles went white as he gripped them.

For the first time in life, Fayt felt the knee-weakening power of young love.

He had been keen on Albel since the inn-incident in Petermy. He knew then, that he HAD to have Albel with them. He could never eat or sleep without knowing the man was around. He didn't want to leave this planet without at least… knowing Albel didn't hate him. And Albel didn't. At least, he didn't seem too. He even asked him if he, Fayt, hated him! It was all good in his eyes… perhaps Albel might like him too. After all, he'd trained so hard to be a fine warrior too. He wanted his approval. There was something about this elegant man who just made it seem so worthwhile…

"Albel?"

"Yes?"

"I… Albel, do you… are you?"

"Spit it out, fool." He looked annoyed. He hated fear, uncertainty and doubt. Without a doubt Albel would have made a great System Analyst were he in Fayt's world.

Fayt turned ashen-faced. This was getting hard. He was beginning to irritate Albel as well… He didn't want this to happen, he—

"I… I think… Albel, are you gay?"

Said man's jaw dropped and Fayt covered his mouth in horror. Cliff's speech impairment (a.k.a. lack of thought before usage of words) had at that precise moment, rubbed off on him. It was a catastrophe…

Albel mumbled something that sounded like 'the only sane people are in Aeryglyph', but he let the discussion rest.

"Why would you like to know?" he finally got himself to ask, presumably because his curiosity got the better of him at last.

"Albel, I'm sorry… it wasn't an insult, it really wasn't—"

"Just answer the question, fool," he said impatiently. He didn't need to know if it was or wasn't an insult. He even wore a skirt damn it! With a high slit, too; and when he fought some barbarians could sneak a peek under it and die happy.

"Albel… I… I just…" he looked towards the others. The small commotion had made Cliff stir a little, he being the one lying closest to the pair, but he merely mumbled incoherently before dropping off back to sleep. "I… I think… I think I am."

"And you wanted advice?" he asked, incredulous. "Why don't you try Cliff? He looks hung on men more, I'd say, the imbecile."

"I wish you wouldn't speak like that about him," Fayt said, feeling uncomfortable.

"As you wish," Albel folded his arms.

"Albel… I just… I think I am. I'm not even sure if I am. But I'd like a chance to explore it…" his heart skipped a beat as he braved himself; "E-Explore it w-with you."

Albel stood there, his jaw hanging in mid air a second time. He looked about to furnish a really nasty reply, but then he shifted and stopped himself. Fayt wondered if Albel had changed a little after being with them all for that span of time. And he was right, in a way. Albel had learnt to respect the blue-haired young man, unbeknownst to him. But…

"No. I don't walk that path."

Fayt looked away, ashamed and pained. The Albel he knew would have clawed him half to death by now. But here he was, acting like a fool and Albel being remotely civil towards him despite his blunder… he shouldn't be doing this, he knew. He'd cause all of them distraction and they might die in battle. He was… he was such an idiot. Fayt blinked his tears back.

"Perhaps you should just focus on the war."

Without looking back even once, Albel turned and walked away further towards the beach. The wind whipped his wrapped braids up and lashed them around. Behind him, Fayt slowly sank to his knees and played with the gentle sand. It felt soothing in his hands. A clam appeared out of the sand and he placed it back where the sand had been. And he, he never cried that day. He didn't, isn't, and never will cry. Neither did he speak of it any longer. The only witness to it who lived on wholly after it was that clam… for a part of Fayt died that day. Albel never was alive to begin with.

Things like these are sometimes meant to be. There isn't such thing as fate, nor is there any destiny that could bestow us all a happy-ever-after. Because everyone, all of us, know that sometimes things just don't go the way we want them to, the way we feel it should have been, a happy fairytale ending by the seashore. For sometimes, just sometimes, this heartbreak could be the best ending we could ever wish for.

-END-

Sunday, October 24, 2004, 4:55 PM

Notes: Bah, this was pretty jumbled. Could've been better, but all a sudden I just thought I'd snap. And I did. Poor Fayt. Heheheh! And yeah, crossdressing is a sign of wickedness. I do it too once. :3