Awakened Dreams

Hi everybody! Sorry I haven't been fanficcing recently, but ive had so many exams and everything! At least they aren't my GCSE'S – they're in two years…

So sit back and enjoy! Seifer and Rinoa's summer 2getha – done to death, but a wonderful topic.

**

"Daddy? Can I talk to you?"

The slender brunette hesitated in the dimly lit doorway, one hand playing absently with a strand of hair. Her eyes were unusually dark for her pale, creamy complexion, and her hair was jet black, highlighted with russet tones. Inside the room she could vaguely see the silhouette of her father, hunched, secluded, over his desk. Papers rustled next to him. She took a tentative step forwards but was cut off by his harsh voice. He did not even look up.

"Later, Rinoa. Later."

The words were so simple, yet so hurtful. Later – later – always, always later. Her onyx eyes narrowed and her long, slim fingers clenched themselves by her sides.

"Daddy, it's important…"

"Go amuse yourself, Rinoa. Go play, do whatever it is you do. Just don't bother me. I have REAL work to be done."

She stood in resentful silence. Her stance was resilient and proud, but inside her something was snapping.

She turned and fled the room, leaving only the swishing of her long train behind her.

**

The sand was soft and welcoming beneath her feet. The sun was just setting, the sky suffused with an almost pink glow. The sun had its wings, fluttering strips of cloud shrouded in the ever-present mist of condensation that came with the dusk. She was running, stumbling, but astonishingly in control of herself. Her eyes were dry. She'd had enough of tears, enough of crying. She didn't belong to her father. She owed everything she did to herself, and nobody else.

She sank to the sandy beach abruptly, her head spinning. The balmy breeze caressed her cheek. She brought her hand up to her face and stroked it gently. Did she know herself? Could she find herself? She lowered her hand and laid it in her lap. The light brown indents in her palm glimmered in the sunlight. The engravings of her fate. Could fate be written in a hand?

No. Fate was only what you wanted it to be. You had control – didn't you?

She brought her knees up to her chin and stretched out her toes so that the cool, lucid waters were just lapping at her smooth skin. It felt purifying, cleansing. She tilted back her head and let the rivulets of sand flow down by her feet and legs, blown by the wind, as they were every day, every year, every month. The wind flowed around her neck like an invisible silk sash and whipped through her hair. She felt alive. She opened her eyes and saw a single seagull flying overhead in a balletic arch. It's mellifluous cry echoed in her ears. What should she give to be like a gazelle in the desert, or a seagull in the frosty azure sky? Was there any price she could pay? What was the price of freedom?

"I'm not a little girl anymore, Daddy", she whispered, half to herself, half to the sea. The sea was listening to her – she could sense it. Listening, the waves hushed to her whim, lapping at her skin reassuringly. She liked to think of it as her friend. What was friendship? The question flashed through her mind in an instant. Loyalty – trust – respect –

She respected the sea. Did it respect her? If she were to venture, deep, deep into the tumbling waves and let the water drop its mountains, on her head, would she survive? Would it be her friend?

She wasn't alone. She smiled, almost wistfully. "I have a reason to live, Daddy…" she whispered finally. "I don't go out and play. I want freedom – for all those oppressed – for Timber…."

She laid a finger in the sand next to her and let the grains brush over her fingertips.

"And for me."

She lay back on the sand, letting the sun warm her face and cheekbones. She could almost feel the silence.

She sat up with a jolt. Something – something rustling behind her. She whirled around to face the burnished shrubs and bushes, yellow gold in the evening sun.

"Come out!" She cried, sounding much more confident than she felt. "I – I want to see you. Don't hide."

The first thing she remembered seeing of him, when she looked back on the moment later, was the wide, creased hem of his coat. It blew slightly in the wind, and then a tall, muscled man stepped out of the shadows, a condescending, apologetic, and admiring, all at the same time. He stepped forward, brushing down his front and leaning coolly against a tall palm tree. "Sorry to have bothered you." His voice was deep, seductive, intoxicating – it shouldn't have had such an effect on her, but it did. The shivers were already running, unreasonably down her spine. Stop it, stop it, she was telling herself, but it didn't work…

He was looking her up and down, his eyes wide and dark, and heady. He seemed to be savouring the effect he was having on her. "You holding up all right? On top of things?"

"Yes…"

"Zip it. I can tell a liar when I see one."

Rinoa held up her hands in helpless apology. "You're right. I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

He laughed, his dimples showing and his gold layered hair ruffling in the mellow breeze. "Want to tell me about it?"

Rinoa sat down carefully on the sand. "I don't want to intrude on your time…you're probably very busy….it's just that – I never – people never seem to…"

"Have time for you?"

Rinoa looked up incredulously, half expecting to see him laughing. His expression was unreadable in the dusk, yet his eyes masked nothing of his soul. They were wide, compassionate, strong, powerful –

"Tell me."

He sat down on the sand next to her, so close, she could feel the warmth from his body. His dark eyelashes were lowered seductively and he peered out at her from beneath hooded eyelids. "I have time for you."

Suddenly she was telling him about everything, about Timber, about her father, about freedom…she told him about the ever unchanging sea, the stars, the sky…and about herself, her life, and her heart. Minutes – it could have been hours passed, and she gazed up at the sky to see millions of tiny stars like diamond chips in the endless firmament of the sky. She gasped involuntarily and found his arm was around her shoulders.

"It's beautiful – isn't it…?" he said, lightly kissing her temple. She turned to face him. Their faces were so close now. She looked at him, and thought how free, and strong, and independent he was. Would she ever break free?

The tears glimmered in her eyes and one droplet beaded her eyelash. She raised a hand to brush it away, but he took it before she could reach her faced and gently kissed her fingertips. She closed her eyes and let the gentle pressure of his lips soothe away her pain. His other hand brushed away her tears and held her close, his palm in the small of her back. "SShh…you'll be okay now. Look at me…"

She raised her tear-stained face to him and he brushed his lips along her cheek, her jawbone, and the slim curve of her neck. She closed her eyes and let his lips travel along her earlobe, her temples. "Let me help you forget…" he murmured. "I've – never felt this way before…."

She let her finger trace fire along his chiselled features. His lips brushed hers, and they stared into eachother's eyes for what seemed and eternity. His hands cupped her face and her lips quivered slightly.

Then, all at once, they were together and entwined, and his kisses were raining down upon her face as if they would never end.

**

What did you think? Am I back on form? Please review!!