Love in Death
Author: OneMoreSquall
Dein Herz in meiner Hand
Dein Blut auf meiner Haut
Du schaust in mein Gesicht
Doch du siehst mich nicht
[Rinoa, please, I need to hear your voice, it can't end like this, please wake up]
[I know that I've never been the best of men, I live my life by my gunblade, I am defined by the violence which I excel at. But what have I done to deserve this? Why me? Please...someone, bring her back.]
Squall sat bent over the still form of his true love, both of them splattered with the blood of their foes and each other. A gash in his forehead slowly bled down, across the scar which was so prominent on the man's face. It slid into his eyes, stinging them, and touched his lips and covered his chin. But the fighter didn't care for his own wounds, it was Rinoa that he was only concerned with. The grendel's tailblade had caught her head on, opening a wound from her hip, across her chest to her opposite shoulder. Squall had already cast curaga, but there had been little effect, it was too much for him, too much for his pitiful skill. Her blood had seeped onto him, coating his jacket, staining his white shirt, numbing his soul. He gently put his arms under her, and slowly lifted her up, hugging her to him. The pain was unlike anything he had ever felt before, no monster, no creature, no person could ever cause that kind of pain. It was as if the gods themselves had come down and rent his soul in twain, then forced him, cruelly to keep living.
Her dead eyes, still open, peered at him with an unfathomable gaze. Those sapphires stared at him, burning into him, accusing him, hating him, loving him and forgiving him in the same moment. As he met that stare, something began to cry out from deep within him, it slowly came to the surface, accelerating, growing, every happy moment they had together, every fight, every breath they shared, everything that the both of them were rolling together, forming into a primal scream.
Die Hände fest am Hals
Die Nägel tief im Fleisch
Ich flüster dir ins Ohr
Doch du hörst mich nicht
It was the sound of sorrow itself that escaped from Squall's bloody lips, every trace of agony that humanity had suffered, the injustice of a hundred thousand years resounded in that horrible call. From far away, Squall watched himself, watched as he pulled his dying bride close to his breast, and heard himself scream until he had no breath, no life, left to scream with. Like the broken sea tide swallowing the land, darkness consumed every recess of Squall's remaining soul. The blackness spread itself across everything, his eyes became dark, his breathing slowed, and soon the big man slumped over his fallen love. With the last breath he thought he could muster, Squall shifted his head and whispered into Rinoa's deaf ear...
"I love you like the stars above, I'll love you till I die..."
Hörst du die Engel singen?
Spürst du die sanften Schwingen?
Hat sich das Warten nicht gelohnt?
Spürst du die Wärme kommen?
Hast du den Berg erklommen?
Siehst du Das Weisse Licht?
There was light in every corner of the world where Squall woke, and Rinoa was sitting up beside him, hugging her knees and rocking back and forth like she always did. White clouds sailed serenely through the blue sky, and off in the distance, a single tall mountain stood proudly. The ocean washed in the background, providing the soft soundtrack for this serenity; to the other side, a field of flowers, like that one in Centra. The landscape felt like home.
Look around in awe, Squall couldn't find words to describe any of it, it was home for him. He knew this place. He was born in these rolling fields, somewhere.
"Squall..." Rinoa's angelic voice called to him. On hearing it, Squall jumped to his feet, unable to contain his joy.
"Rinoa! thank god you're alive!" He hugged her to him, almost crushing her. She was even whole again, the blood on her was gone. She had come back to him. Then he looked at himself...and the blood was still there, coating him in the vileness of death. He looked to Rinoa with questioning, pitiable eyes.
"I can't stay, and neither can you. It was my time. Just know that I will always love you, and I know you will always love me. Find happiness Squall, no matter how hard it will be for you...good bye, my love. "With that, Rinoa pulled in her beloved for one last, lingering kiss; a final bittersweet moment that they could share, and carry with them to eternity and earth; one final act of love. Then she was gone, towards the mountain, towards the white light, being called by the beautiful singing that only she could hear...
"Rinoa! Come Back! I Need You With Me! Please...please...
The calm ocean began to kick higher and higher, Squall struggled to his feet, and began moving to follow his angel, but the ocean wouldn't allow it. The wind picked up in Squall's face, pushing him back, whipping against his face. The once bright landscape blackened and the rain fell; sheets of heavy thick drops cracked against Squall's wounds, stopping him in his tracks. Behind him, the sea swelled into a wave that stood as high as the heavens, then crashed down onto that lonely form that stood huddled against the storm within him.
Hat sich das Leiden nicht gelohnt?
Kennst du mich? Spürst du mich?
Weißt du, wer in dir ist?
Siehst du mich? Hörst du mich?
Weißt du, wer zu dir spricht?
Fühlst du mich? Ahnst du nichts?
Weißt du, wer dich zerbricht?
Selphie had loved Squall for as long as she had known him. It was a young girl's love at first sight, that day that she bumped into him in the hallway. She could never get that image out of her head: Squall, looking for all the world like some granite emperor, his commanding stare looking down at her, she had never seen someone so intense, so regal. She loved him from that moment on. It was a complex thing though, and Selphie never really got it entirely, a lot of the time she just had to hate Squall, mostly for how comfortably he could be with Rinoa, despite Selphie's best attempts to get him to notice her. She really hated Rinoa, but only for Squall's love for her. So the two girls were always friends, but never best friends.
Selphie always attributed her perkiness to this love, she would love to be depressed, to just stop living, not to die, just withdrawal from the world, maybe sleep forever until she stopped loving Squall.
When the girl found out about Rinoa, she cried the tears that she needed to, but deep inside, in the darker parts of her soul, she was crying tears of happiness, Squall was as good as hers. It was a sadistic joy, for every second of it was agony, a sympathetic pain, and an unbearable guilt for thinking that way about a friend. But Joy it was, and Selphie could do nothing about that.
Everyday, at noon, just after she taught her elementary magic junctioning class, Selphie would stop by at Squall's dorm, and every time, she was met with that same cold, intense stare, and she would feel as giddy as the day that she met him for the first time. It was the same everyday, she would try to cheer him up, he would tell her to leave, she wouldn't, they would be silent, then Selphie would leave.
"I wonder if he knows yet? does he suspect me?" Selphie would think every time she left that dorm.
Meine Erde dreht sich nur um dich
Kennst du mich nicht?
Meine Erde dreht sich nur für dich
Kennst du mich nicht?
Willst du mich nicht erkennen
Wirst du an mir verbrennen
[I wonder why she keeps coming here. It's nice, but I don't want to be near anybody. Wait, I don't like it at all, Rinoa's not here anymore, I don't have to candy-coat stuff anymore...Rinoa...]
Selphie looked helplessly at the man she loved as he lay in his bed, legs crossed over and hands resting behind his head. the morning had gone so quickly for him, so many regretful thoughts of Rinoa, that he hadn't gotten out of bed to even put on a shirt. Selphie was staring at his muscular chest unashamedly, imagining the feeling of his skin against hers, it was incredible.
[I think she's ogling me.]
Willst du mich nicht entdecken
Wirst du an mir verrecken
A single fly buzzed through the thick air that hung between the two young warriors, flying frantic circles, with little purpose or value. A small fan on the far side of the room tried to blow a slow sea breeze, but instead brought only the salty smell of the ocean. Selphie stared at Squall, and he stared at her. Time seemed to slow, and Selphie could feel her heart beating faster, she could feel her palms getting sweaty, and her blood beginning to pump faster. She every ounce of her strength was set on preventing her from jumping on the half naked man sitting across from her. Every bead of sweat that she watched roll from his brow, every time his chest raised with breath, she lost a little more.
There was no way that she could hold herself back, it was leave now, or move across the room. The heat began to swell in her, boiling her over, it was exquisite in all the right places, and painful in the rest, the perfect masochistic feeling.
She closed her eyes, and began to walk over to Squall, bringing one hand up to remove one of the clasps that held her yellow dress on her. Squall looked at her with a most perplexed expression, then anger.
[That Bitch. Who does she think she is coming here and doing that...Rinoa...I won't forgive her, she won't survive...for you.]
One of the straps fell, and The young girl slowly reached up to get the other, but Squall's arm shot out and grabbed her hand before she could.
[You shouldn't have done that. I've been pissed, now I angry. I couldn't save Rinoa, but I can still protect that love that we shared.]
Squall picked the small girl off her feet, and roughly tossed her across the room. To Selphie, it was ecstasy. Little drops of tangy blood formed on her lips, enticing her more. She quickly pulled off the other clasp, and struggled to wriggle out of the dirty dress. Squall planted a bare foot in her side, doubling her over. Mustering up her energy, she reached out and stroked the offending foot, praising it for the pleasure. Feelings of bliss washed out from her gut, soaking her like a battering wave rolling over the rocks that broke out from the shore.
[She's getting off on this.]
Instead of playing along, the big man bent over her, and gripped her neck with both hands, and pulled her up to meet his face.
Like broken windows into her soul, he stared into her eyes, trying to cram every ounce of hatred and anger that he had, doing anything to hurt her the way he needed to. But those dark eyes were pits, and she took in gladly anything that he poured out. Those pools drained him of everything he had, they sapped the strength from his arms, the hate from his soul and the sad from his life. Redemption is always found in the one place that we are forced to look, and those eyes were Squall's.
He dropped her to her knees, and leaned over her and kissed her. It wasn't the kind of kiss a lover gives another, its the kind of kiss a winner takes from the loser. The taste of her blood, the sickest lipstick, burned his tongue, intoxicating him. The world was woozy, rolling and pitching around. She fell backwards onto the hard floor...
Will you scorn me, will you break me?
Are you able to forsake me?
Will you scorn me, will you hate me?
Won't you finally concentrate my pain?
"you hate me don't you?" The now quiet girl asked with an ironic meekness. She turned onto her side, relishing the faint throbbing that kept reminding her that this wasn't a dream. She looked over the man that lay beside her, and looked into his eyes. He closed his eyes and rolled away from her.
"I can see under your bed." Selphie climbed on top of Squall, pressing all her curves against the big man in a vague attempt to bring back the pleasure that she had just felt. It was a useless battle.
"Get out of here, I have nothing else to give you. You're not wanted here anymore."
The words cut deep, and even Squall could feel them cut under the very fabric of the girl's being, rocking her. The sadistic pleasure he was looking for earlier washed across him, he could feel her as she started to tremble where she lay on his back, he could feel her tears, like rain, as they washed down his back, it was glorious. He reveled in the feeling, the feeling of her rising off him, and the sight of her, out of the corner of his eye, picking up her beaten and dirtied dress, then slipping it down over her naked, bruised body, and slowly walking, with her shoulders stooped low, out of the room and down the infinite hallway that led to her room. Squall could almost feel a tear welling up in his eye as he watched the second woman to love him walk away destroyed.
"I certainly have a way with women..." he broke off into a most insidiously sardonic chuckle, then heaved himself off the sticky floor.
Call my name until I clench my fist
Fan the flame until I slash my wrist
It was the same room that Selphie had come home to so many times before, yet, this time, it was entirely different. It didn't seem like home anymore. The bed didn't look so inviting, the view from the single window didn't look so pleasant. The people in the pictures that stood like sentinels on her bedside table didn't look happy anymore, their expressions seemed to be so fake, each smile hiding poison and death. The grey walls and thin carpet radiate an oppressive sadness that burrowed into the young woman , right to her core, depressing her further, though she was hurt beyond all comprehension.
The pain in her side was the only thing that seemed right anymore, the pain that Squall had given to her. She across that sorry barren room, and threw her battered side against the heavy set desk that sat on the far side. The corner dug into her side, amplifying the pain. That familiar feeling, the one that Squall had just given to her bubbled up once more. It was disgusting, but it was what she knew, it was everything that she knew, the only emotion she knew how to deal with.
AS she stood over that desk, her shoulders hunched over in pain, feeling herself drift slowly along its current, she craved more. She needed more pain, for the sadness that filled her life, the sadness which she was usually able to ignore or numb herself toward was creeping in around the edges of her consciousness, tainting the pain, making it a real thing, something to fear. It was unbearable. Selphie reached out one slender trembling arm and slowly drew one of the drawers out of the desk. She forced her leadened hands to shuffle the contents around until she found what she was looking for. In that drawer lay a razor that she kept for "a really fucking rainy day". The tiny blade quivered as she drew it from the paper cover that it came in, watching how the faint lights above her played across the sharp edges, sparkling and shining.
She clenched her fist as tight as she could, watching as the blue veins of her wrist rose slowly from their places.
She held the shining blade to the frail skin that held the blood inside her. It was religious now, each breath becoming ritualistic, glorious, practiced. She guided the lad to the veins, and reveled in the way that they pumped her life through her body. She was a temple and now she had to lead to the altar of heavenly sacrifice. It was then that she realized that she was nothing more than an illusion within the world in which she lived, she was only a shadow on the great expanse time where she lived. If she killed herself, and in the unlikely chance that anyone even missed her, it wouldn't matter in the long run. Life would not end, the world would not stop spinning, nobody could possibly care. her death would be a moot point.
She scratched the blade across the bare skin of her wrist, not as hard as she would push to end herself. Just hard enough to know that the blade was there, it was a simple act that began it all. the next time that she pressed the blade to skin, it dug in a little. This is where the doubts began. Between the action and the though, lies the shadow. And between the though of her ending her own suffering and pushing that blade though her skin, Lay a shadow as tall as a mountain, and as far as the sea.
Selphie steeled herself, then pressed the metal to her skin, and slowly drew it across her wrist. It started as a small bead, a red as deep as any ruby, then expanded until it broke and the blood slowly started to trickle off the side of her pale slender wrists. every beat of her heart pushed more blood through that miniscule crack, each pump sent a small ripple across the gentle flow.
The blood was pouring out from her wrists now, leaking onto the floor, covering her dress. She savored the detachment, the dizziness, it was putting her in a good mood. She knew she hadn't lost much blood, but by the time that anyone would notice, it would be all over.
Then the door opened.
Squall strode into the room, looking for all the world like he owned the place, casting his gaze about with his usual icy confidence. Then he saw the girl lying in a small pool of her blood.
[This isn't necessary, I'm not worth that, am I? Why do you want to love me, I can't even protect you. Foolish girl.]
Through hazy eyes, Selphie saw the imposing figure in the doorway, and reached a bloody hand toward it. The silhouette stared down at her, then walked over to her desk, and looked at his reflection in the mirror.
The blood was everywhere now.
"Selphie. If you want blood, take mine. Yours has value, while mine is just empty." she heard Squall's voice say.
She watched as Squall slowly and deliberately pull the glove of his right hand, revealing the strong hand that had always hidden from her. He looked into her eyes, those dying, hoping eyes; the pain, the loss the anger, every emotion in her soul, shone through those eyes, and he could see how much the small woman loved, how much she loathed him, how much she wanted to die, and how much she wanted to live. Just as she had done for him, he let all of that flow into him, he took all of her pain into him, and hoped that it was enough. It wasn't.
She needed a most desperate release, she needed to cleanse her soul from him, she needed him to be her sacrifice.
Without ever looking away from her, he flicked his exposed hand though the glass of the mirror that hung over the small desk, and felt, uncaring, as the sharp edges tore through the thin flesh of his knuckles. Now his blood began to drip from the ruined hand and onto the slick floor.
[Please let this be enough.]
"I don't need your blood. Just one last kiss." The voice Squall heard was at the same time meek and fragile, yet still full of strength and confidence. He dropped to one knee and reached out his incarnadine hand to gently cup her face, and draw it slowly to his own.
This kiss was more like what a kiss should be, the bittersweet intermingling of the two souls, each knowing the pain of the other. The tang of blood again tainted the kiss, but it was not just hers, both of their blood and body's mixed in the passion of that embrace. Squall could slowly feel the breath running out of Selphie, and soon she stopped moving, stopped breathing. As he beheld her quiet form, he slowly exhaled her last breath, their last breath. It reminded him of the sea.
Are you able to forsake me?
I hope you enjoyed this, please leave a review, they encourage me. This started out as a songfic, then an albumfic, from Oomph! Their album Plastik. Its great, check it out, translation can be found at www.oomph-supernova.com. Thanx!