A/N: I've been through some rewrites with this story (because picking it up after a long break gives you strange insight) and finally decided to just post what I have up so far. Hope you enjoy.
PART I: Two Moths Entangled
There was a strange sadness in the air that night yet when Quistis finally reached her destination, the peace that lived there quickly erased her doubts. Everything was just like in her memory: timeless and calm. You could see storms coming from a great distance here, predict their coming and going. There wasn't such vision anywhere else in the world, now was there? – Just the uncertainty that came with blind luck shaping one's life.
Why had Edea wanted her to come here?
Quistis shivered as a chilling breeze passed her by, tossing her golden hair and entangling it in its flight. She didn't look as groomed as usually, just fatigued. Her battle gear lay forgotten in some closet in the Garden and her confidence with it. And while she still stood tall in a perfect posture, she seemed somewhat smaller and diminished when compared to the woman she'd been just a few years ago. Quistis had come a long way to find some answers, a shining truth she could base her life on. She really needed that right now.
The answers weren't lying in wait in open territory though. The beach was empty and a storm was approaching in the horizon, draining the dying light from the sun. The orphanage was barely standing nowadays. Time hadn't treated it well seeing how there was no one to repair the damage done by the strong winds and the power of the raging sea. Her childhood home was in ruins, much like her life was. Breathing out the anxiety, Quistis sat down on the stone steps leading from the beach to the orphanage and just stared at the pale shimmer of the waves with a blank expression.
She was so tired. Too tired to work her endless hours at the office, doing the paperwork for the Garden, since she was the only person Squall trusted in handling the workload. Lately she'd found herself throwing papers in fits of anger and releasing frustrated growls without realizing it herself. Her hands were full of paper cuts to prove how she was slipping. As long as Quistis could remember, she'd been reaching for high position in the Garden, but now that she stood next to Squall governing the entire establishment, that goal tasted like dust in her mouth.
Her despair wasn't visible to anyone else and neither was her failure. Quistis no longer knew what she'd achieved, if anything at all. She wasn't a leader like her experience as an Instructor had proved, but she didn't like being a follower either. Sure, while fighting Ultimechia beside her friends, she'd felt a burning stronger than with any of her dreams before, but after the mission had been over she just didn't fit anywhere anymore. She'd watched everyone else slowly find their places and shine whilst she'd begun to wither.
She'd walked up to Squall and let him know she was taking a vacation. He'd been surprised and offered her a suitable date in a few weeks time. Normally she would've taken it. Normally she would've shrugged off every question about the bags under her eyes with a suitable half-truth. But she hadn't taken the timeslot he'd offered her and she hadn't answered any of his questions. She was going now and she didn't know when she was coming back – this is what she'd told Squall instead. His confused face hadn't gained any answers from her either, after she'd packed her bags and left the Garden under silence despite his kind protest.
Back at her dorm she'd discarded everything that related to her life as a high-position clerk for the most expensive mercenaries in existence, taking with her only her casual clothes and an old SeeD uniform jacket. Now as she sat still and reflected on that decision it felt even more right. Quistis simply hadn't existed outside the Garden for a long time now.
It'd been at the train station that Edea had caught up with her, bidding her farewell and asking if she'd been to the orphanage recently.
Quistis had just shaken her head at her old mentor. There is nothing there, right?
Edea's golden eyes had looked particularly entrancing as she'd smiled back, Well then, maybe you should.
So here she was: sitting in the same spot where she'd sat so many times as a child. Quistis' memories of her childhood were shady at best – perhaps thanks to the GFs or maybe just because there was nothing to remember about those days. She remembered sunshine and playing at the beach, a moonlight night of hide and seek and the anxiety of separation after her adoption had happened. The details escaped her still, only reaffirming her belief that they were meaningless and that she would still be with her friends whether or not they had known each other as kids or not.
With her friends she'd travelled all across the world: been to every town and city known and a few places no one even remembered anymore. Having seen and experienced so much, how could she be unable to see her own path? Maybe coming back here was about seeing where she'd gone wrong? Who knew? Edea was as cryptic as she'd always been.
Quistis stroked her arm to rub some warmth into it. Her old SeeD jacket held only sentimental value these days as it was too worn to provide any real protection from the cold, but she'd felt like wearing it anyway. It was her favourite thing of the few belongings she had. Luckily her woollen skirt rejected the cold a bit as the stone step under her was humid and freezing to sit on. Quistis had always been able to prepare for everything; she had calculated things and beaten them many times simply because she was able to push her passion aside and deal with her problems rationally. Now the ability brought little comfort and stirred very little pride in her. Now relying on intelligence and rationality made her feel weak and somehow incomplete.
It wasn't a feeling that had just appeared one morning, no; it'd grown slowly and begun blooming after she was finally able to quiet down. Her dream of being an instructor hadn't been the thing for her. Her love for Squall had been unrequited and even hope had vanished from her heart upon Rinoa's entrance into their lives. She'd been unhappier than she'd been willing to admit for a long time. Chasing the Sorceress, saving the world, rediscovering her roots: even though the journey had been needed it'd opened the hole in her chest rather than filling it.
Now she was hiding in the ruins of her lost childhood, following up on her matron's advice. What was here but sand and icy wind that lashed her face? Quistis rose from the stone step she'd been sitting on and her golden hair was instantly pulled into the aerial waltz of the wind. It flew all around her, almost floating like a broken halo that proved her self-accusations to be true. It was usually on a tight hair-do, every hair combed and placed with precision, but now just as her wandering mind it was finally allowed to roam free.
With her hands tied sternly around her upper torso she took one last look at the sea before she began climbing the stairs up to the house itself. She'd given the place a scan earlier on, discovering that one of the rooms still had a roof and four strong walls intact and thus chosen it as her accommodation for the night. She wasn't too sure if she wanted to remain in this ghastly place for another day, even if it meant she needed to hike across the Cetra area to get back to the gulf where her transportation, the White Seed Ship, was still anchored for another week. This place felt as worn and uninviting as she felt herself, but she was willing to give it and Edea's advice the benefit of doubt, even if just for one night.
The sand barely made any noise underneath her boots and the first thundering sound only echoed in the air after she'd reached the house and its safety. She walked through the garden and the main hall, making her way to her destination in silence. It'd been a long day with her having to find the courage to leave after she'd simply marched into Squall's office announcing her leave. All her friends had quickly caught on the news of her leaving, and each visited her separately, trying to find out the reasons of this sudden vacation. But eventually they had all been forced to give up trying and ended up giving her their blessing. It was strange how overly protective her friends were of her, considering she was the eldest and used to taking care of everyone. Perhaps they'd grown past her by now, and she was the one still lingering insecurely at the doorstep of adulthood?
She'd just stepped indoors when something hard and violent met with her cheek, efficiently slamming her against the open door utterly dazed. Another hit threw her across the room and onto the floor where she was quickly straddled and restrained. The arms of her glasses were disfigured in the process but the lenses were spared from damage. She grimaced in pain after a heavy weight landed on her pelvis and pressed it firmly against the humid floor. Her hands were held over her belly by a pair of strong hands. She could sense that the ambush hadn't quite been planned, but had happened more in the heat of the moment.
Her cheek felt sensitive and began aching almost immediately after the attack. She also tasted blood in her mouth when she tried to swallow the bitter taste of violence. It'd been awhile since she'd been hurt and caught so off-guard. Under normal circumstances she would've most likely seen the trap coming from miles away, but her mind so disarray she just hadn't expected to run into trouble – not here.
The back of her head was inflamed in pain and her captor had sure forced her into a difficult and uncomfortable position, but neither of these facts made her angrier than finding out her capturer's identity when she finally opened her eyes and got them to remain open: The eyes that were staring into hers almost calculatingly belonged to Seifer Almasy.
Quistis' first thought was to struggle and throw him off-balance, but she quickly decided against it. Seifer wouldn't probably resort to violence unless she provoked him, so it was better to calm down and wait and see what he had in mind. She also had to remind herself that he wasn't necessarily the enemy, seeing how he had abandoned Ultimechia in the end. There might still be some spot of decency in him that would recognize attacking her as folly; at least this is what Quistis wanted to believe.
He smiled suddenly and loosened his grip a bit, as if relieved after finding out her identity. He probably didn't even consider her to be a threat, she realized remembering how hard it had been to try and instil respect for her in him. Seifer had always rebelled against her and never even considered she could take him on.
"Instructor," he said calmly, his voice as raspy as it'd always been when he'd mockingly addressed her as his superior. "Did you come all this way alone to capture me?"
As usual Seifer thought the whole world revolved around his brilliance when in reality their encounter had been just blind luck. No one knew where Seifer was – Not even Fujin and Raijin. How could've she known he was hiding here, trying to remain below the radar? Quistis tried to move a bit, achieving little as his grip grew stronger the same moment. She tried to look away but he forced her to look at him by taking her chin between his gloved fingers and turning her face back to him.
He was clearly waiting for an answer and stalling would probably be rewarded with more violence. Quistis considered lying, but deemed it useless. Seifer was good at reading people, so it might be better to just tell the truth.
"I just came to see the orphanage. I didn't know you would be here," she explained, trying to her best to remain calm. It seemed impossible with him however, seeing how he had always had the ability to unnerve her and make her doubt her own abilities. The rebelling student had been her Achilles' Heel even back then and he'd known it.
Even now Seifer was sitting atop her seemingly relaxed and glaring down at her, like he was actually starting to enjoy his stay on top of her. Being the ladies man he was she was sure he'd been in this position countless times over, only with quite different intentions – At least he had given some appreciation to the women he'd bedded. Then just when she was about to explain her stay here further, he got off her and released her hands.
Quistis looked at his retreat with bewilderment while taking her chance to get up and straighten herself. Somehow she just didn't appear to be that tall when Seifer stood close to her and watched her every move. Usually she was in control of every space she was in, but with Seifer it'd always been a battle over authority. Now the fight seemed even more intense, as her shell finally had a crack that he could take advantage of. And somehow he seemed to sense the change in her too. She didn't want to talk about her problems, not with him anyway, so she gathered her voice and pointed his attention elsewhere with a question before he could look beyond skin-deep.
"What are you doing here Seifer? No one is accusing you of anything. You're a free man."
Not that she'd call him a man unless it wasn't for his obvious upper hand in this situation. No, he was too bratty and restless to be called a man. He couldn't take any kind of responsibility, which she'd had to learn the hard way of course. Albeit talented, Seifer had never had the heart to use his power so he might achieve something greater than his selfish accomplishments, unless you were willing to count in his dream of being a knight, which Ultimechia had abused mercilessly.
Seifer seemed surprised that she would ask him that. Yet it was impossible to tell what else was going on in his head for his face remained stoic and unmoved.
"It would seem I'm not very popular in the outside world, despite my public pardon," he eventually confessed, narrowing his eyes the slightest bit. She could see it though, how he'd been through a lot since they'd last seen. His clothes were dirty and torn, his hair uncut and his jaw unshaved. She didn't dare pity him though, no, such thoughts were like begging him to assault her again.
"Believe it or not, no one was too thrilled to see your execution, Seifer," she answered truthfully. If they weren't fighting why would've she hidden her truths behind lies? They had been without such mind games upon a time, even if she remembered very little of that time.
Seifer cocked a brow mischievously. "And why might that be, my dear Instructor?" He was apparently quite amused by their almost civilized conversation. Yet she could tell he was trigger happy enough to push her down to that floor again if she tried to flee.
To Seifer it was all a game of power. He probably still harboured malice and general dislike towards her, even though they hadn't been a student and teacher for a few years now. Besides even she knew Seifer never forgot anything, not even the smallest detail. Somewhere along the line she had offended or irritated Seifer enough to end up on 'his List' and after that it had been impossible to reason with him.
"C'mon, answer me," he taunted her, taking a small step closer as he fidgeted the handle of his gunblade. She could feel the threat in his words; it was written in the air with cruel tension. She'd always been protected by her position when it came to Seifer, for he'd deemed her a mere annoyance, but how were things now? If he wanted to get her out of his way, he'd most certainly get it done – just like that.
Quistis' glare dropped from his figure and she pointed it to the wall. She wasn't afraid of him, but rather angry at him for showing up and playing his games with her. It was the last thing she'd wanted when she should've been mending.
"I understood your motives, I still do," she said quietly, making him sharpen his hearing to make sure he was actually getting this right. "You were just trying to protect Matron – probably the only person you've ever cared about."
She glanced at him for a second to see if she'd hit or missed. Seifer remained unreadable though, merely absorbed her words eagerly and remained in place but a few meters away from her. It was a moment later that she felt the cold blade of his gunblade press against her neck. "You pity me?" Seifer's voice was very rough now, full of aggression and edge.
"Perhaps I pity myself," she replied bravely, ready to see through his threats. Quistis felt so heavy inside that the weight was worse than the blade's touch against her bare skin. She had no fear, just a glooming despair that drowned even the aching of her bruised cheek underneath it. Maybe drowning this despair this way would bring back that lovely numbness from the time she hadn't yet realized that everything was colourless.
He drew his gunblade back, puzzled by the change in the upright girl. She'd been a progeny: always knowing everything better than anyone else, always pretending to be better and now she was just shards that'd been put back together in the wrong order. It was somewhat confusing to see the iron maiden this way, so visibly vulnerable.
"Why's that Instructor?" he asked, genuinely interested in deepening the wound she was suffering from. He couldn't help it, she was a thorn in his side, had always been. Now it would seem like their roles had been reversed and he was the one holding the power here. Abusing it for a little payback was just the thing he needed to forget about his recent misfortunes.
"I'm not an instructor anymore Seifer," she explained, leaning against the wall behind her now that he wasn't holding a blade to her throat and she dared to seek for a little comfort, if only to show him she could relax in his company.
Her announcement clearly came to Seifer as a surprise for his arrogance vanished quickly. "Say again?" he requested, his voice bearing an ominous tone that she'd never heard before. It frightened her, made her regret telling him in the first place. Was this the point where he went off like a bomb and proceeded to get even for all those years he had been forced to follow her orders because she had outranked him?
"I wasn't able to grasp my dreams like you were," she explained, bitter and prepared for possible humiliation. So is this what Edea had had in mind; her explaining her failure to the one person who didn't deserve to know and gloat at her? Surely this was hell and she was taking it in fully, forced to fight in order to keep her pride intact.
"It's a shame," he said, breaking the uncomfortable silence that'd landed awhile ago. Then he just shrugged. "You worked hard to get there."
Worked hard to get there? Quistis just couldn't hold back her loathing despite the fact that Seifer was being awfully considerate of her misfortunes. The old Seifer would've laughed at her by now, mocked her further and then given into some childish whim of his to humiliate her further, but she couldn't see that now when the pain was beginning to surface again.
"You're pitying me now?" she asked, almost catty. But she continued before he had the chance to ask her just why she thought she was in any position to make vicious remarks towards him. "I don't need pity. I've been just a SeeD since the night before you ran after Rinoa and your destiny. I've adjusted by now."
Seifer smirked back. "There it still is, that damn cold 'iron maiden of superiority' glare," he noted dryly, that strange almost compassionate side of him gone in a flash. "You've always thought you were better than everyone else. I'm guessing it's why they realized you aren't fit for teaching."
He was trying to take the higher ground, that bastard. It agitated her, got her voice to become louder than she'd intended. "And you're still a fucking brat, Seifer!"
He grabbed her upper arm, drew her close to ensure she wouldn't try and escape him, and that she'd see just how serious he was. She flinched because of the hard grip, but didn't make a sound just stared back at him with a fierce fire dancing in her eyes for the first time since the Sorceress War. Strangely their confrontation made her feel more alive than she had felt in years.
Seifer observed this new side of her: how she showed her true feelings openly instead of trying to remain empathetic and trusting. He'd wanted to meet this Quistis for years, to get her to really open up and say what she wanted to say, but couldn't because of the role she had needed to play. Besides Instructors couldn't exactly socialize with students even if they were the same age…
It was starting to rain outside, hails by the sound of it, so he saw it fit to drag her out after him and throw her in the rain. Quistis barely kept her balance after he let her go but managed to stay on her feet and turn back to face him. Seifer was already leaning comfortably at a pillar under the roof, protected from the rain while he watched it devour her whole.
He still had his gunblade in his hand but the safety was on. He'd be the teacher this time, get her to realize what she was and had always been. She'd gotten away with it for too long, got to carry on her act, but he wasn't putting up with that anymore. This wasn't the Garden she was no longer his superior by rank.
If she tried to move he would simply push her back under the rain, his eyes told her that much. She wasn't giving up though, even after she got soaked wet from the rain and beaten by the smallish hails all around. No, she stood there and waited, glaring at him defiantly.
There was something about this sight that had him hesitate. Yeah, the memory tickled his senses now, got him to relax his arm that was holding the gunblade. She probably didn't even remember it, having the GFs fuck up her memory for years, but she'd always been best at Hide and Seek: the last one to be found. He'd usually gotten irritated after looking for her for hours and made everyone else look too, split up to beat the odds. She always found a new hiding place, outwitted everyone even at the simplest games.
One time he'd found her from the light house. Once down on the beach, she'd tagged him and they'd ran together by the shoreline until she'd slipped and fallen into the water. He'd run in right after her, to prove he could catch her naturally, and pulled her out. She'd looked the same back then, standing with her hands defiantly across her chest while she tried to claim that technically he hadn't yet caught her and that she wouldn't be the one chasing after him. An endless argument, like most of the ones that'd followed even during their teens. The only difference between here and now was that after her adoption she'd stopped apologizing afterwards.
She'd forgotten about them (about him) and become this shell of a person, a dictionary full of trivial information. Sure, she was reaching for her dreams, but how could've that been enough to keep her alive? No way was that possible then or now. The way she looked now was the living proof of it.
"What was all that talk about adjusting, because I don't see it? I don't think you've quite gotten over your failure, Quistis." He taunted her and surprised her with his observations; his relaxed way of standing filled her with worry. No one got to crack her shell, and see how she suffered inside, no one. It was essential for her survival that her friends were oblivious, that they couldn't see past her sad smile. It was how she coped with her unbearable days – by putting up an appearance.
Quistis fixed her armour; put it back in place over her wild heart, ensuring that he couldn't touch her anymore. She'd never had to discuss this, never had to tell anyone how she felt after she'd come to the Garden. She'd been strong for over a decade, stood her ground and beaten everyone else at any given task. She couldn't remember the last time she'd cried, but she was too damn close right now.
"I'm entitled to my anger," she said, her wet clothes already embracing her physique like a second skin. She felt worse inside though, knowing she was this close to breaking down in tears. But that was exactly what he wanted to see and Seifer wasn't winning this game!
"I gave everything for the Garden! Everything!"
Her ambition had kept her alive, kept her going when things had looked down, and she'd willingly sacrificed everything for her goal. When others had gone into town together spending those lazy summer days having fun, she'd sat indoors absorbing everything she read, preparing for her bright future. When she'd been asked on a date, she'd refused knowing how she needed the night to prepare for a test the following day. She'd attended every test and evaluation zealously, giving her best performance every single time. There had been no room for loneliness.
Seifer knew precisely what she meant by those words, the isolation she'd practised while pushing herself towards perfection. Sure, she'd had groupies and she was well-liked, but if you asked anyone what was her favourite colour, no one could answer that. His bet would've been red, something dark and charismatic. These thoughts made him growl. It was too easy to admire her shell and ignore what was inside.
"Yeah, you certainly traded your memories and friends for power," he retaliated, remembering the pain of rejection like it was still a fresh wound inside. He wasn't leaning against the pillar anymore, but standing with his hands crossed on his chest, his eyes fixated on her.
"What?" Quistis couldn't quite get what he was saying here. What friends was he talking about? Squall and everyone cared for her, she'd never abandoned them.
Now his face gained a predatory smile, like he knew something she wasn't willing to admit, something embarrassing. "You don't think we were friends?" He asked, observing her reaction before he continued. "We were friends, Quisty."
Friends? Back in the orphanage days? She had trouble believing that, Seifer was too stubborn to have accepted her company. Besides as long as she could remember he'd treated her with contempt of the worst kind, offering her nothing but insults and disrespect at worst. He hadn't even been very friendly towards her on a good mood, so no, she didn't believe him.
He noticed her doubt, could read the conclusion she reached quickly from her face. He knew she'd try and deny it: the abandonment she'd put him through because the perfect student would never do that to anyone. It served her right to have been pushed into the rain. It would serve her right to catch some nasty disease and lie down for a few weeks. But what he truly wanted for her had already happened, hadn't it? She'd failed and she knew it.
"It's easy to deny it, but unlike you, I actually remember my childhood," he shot her with another truth that hit its target and made her bleed erratically. She couldn't argue with his point because she knew he was right, so she just dropped her gaze, let the raindrops fall all over her face and drain into her wet and entangled hair.
He wanted to hurt her, she could tell, but instead of doing it the easy way, he chose to torment her mentally. He probably got more satisfaction that way too, the bastard. And yet she couldn't walk away. It was as if she had to listen – had to know why he felt such contempt towards her after all these years of having to deal with it.
"Sunny days, kids play. You were bossy even as a kid." He could see her before his eyes as she'd been: Such a beautiful child, so well-mannered and polite too, whenever she didn't have her rascally fits that were usually inspired by him. He'd wanted to corrupt her, make her less neat and clean and have her wrestle like a boy, taunt him back equally instead of crying like Selphie did. Seifer glanced at her lazily glad to see how pensive she looked as she started to shiver because of the freezing cold.
"You got adopted and it got boring. Then we entered the Garden and got fed with all of their bullshit." It really had gotten boring. With no one to break him and Squall apart their fights had gotten rougher. Edea had had trouble in getting them disciplined so off to the Garden they'd gone, although now he knew the orphanage had been closed down, so it really hadn't been Matron abandoning them, just bad circumstances.
"You were there too, a familiar face among all the worthless people. And you didn't even remember." Because when he'd seen her he'd felt safer until she'd looked back with her cold eyes and asked his name flatly, barely giving a damn. Just like that he'd been stripped from hope and one girl with messy golden hair that was always pushing him to exceed his limits.
"Not as much as a word in years; you treated me like I was a fucking nuisance." He sounded bitter, like he'd actually given a damn about their friendship, which she doubted from the bottom of her heart. Quistis could admit she'd been cold towards everyone at first. She hadn't wanted to be at the Garden until she'd come up with her goal. She'd been unapproachable until she'd realized it wasn't such a bad place to be in. Yet it did sting when he told her these details, imprinting the image of his rejection into her mind. It made the self-accusations even deeper.
"So yeah, I'm happy you didn't get what you wanted. It serves you right."
She could've yelled at him, said she was not responsible for him and that she made her own choices. The old Quistis would've for sure. This new one was on thin ice though. She just stood there mouth slightly agape, warmth escaping through her full lips. Her glasses were steamy, she barely saw anything through them, but his figure remained to be seen, the shadow didn't vanish that easily.
Seifer watched her stand there like he'd frozen time around her. He watched her slowly pick up the pieces of her pride and move to the stairs that were under the roof's protection. She then sat down on them, pulling her knees against her stomach. He didn't feel like punishing her anymore. It was clear that he'd won and seen into her core. They both knew it was pointless to continue arguing.
She kept her distance, shaking because of the cold that'd entered her body. She then removed her glasses and just stared at the old garden they were in. Even her eyelashes were dripping water onto her knees as she shivered and tried to pull herself together wearily.
"I don't remember anything," she finally told him, making him leave the weapon by the pillar and draw his coat from his back and put it on her. She held onto the coat and put her glasses back on, those hurt eyes looking around her and recognizing barely anything. She really was lost, wasn't she?
"Where's home if not at the Garden?" she asked half-heartedly, somehow unable to hold back her true feelings and put on a show for him. He'd use this against her, she knew he would, and still she just didn't care anymore. Maybe she truly deserved to be treated like this? Maybe he deserved to hurt her like she'd hurt him?
He'd always wanted to see her this way: weak and surrendering. It roused old feelings in him, old fantasies that'd kept him in line with her when she was too indifferent to his problems. Seifer had carried this wish within him for much too long: Please let me see her defeated. He'd wanted to see that knowing face long gone and replaced with confusion so desperately. Finally he felt like she wasn't the annoying distraction: a star he kept reaching for hoping to be noticed. Finally she was just another person in a crowd, someone he could reach out to and touch if he wanted to.
There was something else though too. Yeah, that gripping feeling that'd made him gasp in the dark many times: That itch that'd gotten him in bed with tall blondes before. It was her whose image appeared when he'd closed his eyes. He'd seen the sunshine she'd been and the cold woman she'd become merging in his mind and melting him with her hidden passion for him. Publicly he'd hated her, always quarrelled and rebelled, but in private he wouldn't have liked anything more than to break that ice.
This was his moment, the golden opportunity he'd been waiting for years. Quistis Trepe, who'd denied and belittled him, was having her break down right there next to him. All he had to was to move in and take her while she was too weary and confused to deny this from him. Seifer didn't hesitate; he pulled her close by placing his hand behind her neck and brought their lips together. Her lips were freezing cold: they tasted like salty water and ice, but he liked it – it fit.
Quistis tried to summon up her strength, but couldn't help feeling less connected to the world that was breaking down because of this distraction. He was warm and she was cold and when his mouth invaded hers, a maelstrom was released. She responded to the kiss, devoured his lips hungrily. He could tell she hadn't been kissed like this before; her response was too eager, too raw, but it proved his point about her passionate nature that she'd been suppressing all these years.
He pushed her down on the stone stairs, partly in the rain, and ended their kiss to see her groan in pain after hitting the stone underneath her. "Seifer," she was finally able to whisper a word of objection that he cruelly ignored by locking their lips together again. No chances for breaking this off, no chances to think about it, not when he was this close.
He caressed her sides, moved his hands between skin and clothes and enjoyed seeing her moan because of his touch. He removed her shirt, pulled down the skirt, sliding his warm hand underneath her wet undergarment. She gasped at the warm sensation against her breast and brought her cold lips to his earlobe.
"Seifer, I…," she tried to tell him again, but he wouldn't let her talk; he distracted her by opening the hatch of her bra and sliding them from her frozen skin. She was shaking by now, her sensitive skin still wet and cold and now further attacked by the chilling air. Only his coat was between her and the humid stone under her back and only he kept her from freezing out here. Seifer discarded his own shirt, pulled her up from the stairs and held her against him, as she was almost too weak to move herself. He licked at her earlobe, smiling when she tied her hands around him and bent her rigid neck to give him better access.
She was lost, driven insane by these little pleasurable jolts than run across her body. Cold, warm, sick, ecstatic – the opposites mixed together and the message made no sense to her brain. She ran her hand down his muscled arm, felt him sink his fingers in her messy hair and slide his other hand down her back. Then his hand slid further down, underneath her panties and cupped her ass. She should've felt violated, uncomfortable while writhing in his arms when his lips met with her rigid nipple and kissed it, but she didn't. He was beautiful and using her for revenge; she knew this and shut it out right now. Quistis couldn't think about consequences when she didn't even feel herself right now.
She inched closer to him, spread her legs and pulled him between her them. It thundered in the distance, or maybe it was in her mind – her reason begging her to pull away – or it could've been the lust dancing in her belly. Quistis had closed her eyes long ago, pretended she was claimed because of love, not lust. She ground her hips into his harder, finally sensing his hard on that pressed unmistakably against the joint of her legs. He was thrilled, the bitch of his own anticipation and yet he bid his time, explored every spot in her as if to make sure he missed nothing. She was feral now, her teeth biting his neck, her steamed breath tickling the spots on his skin that'd been moistened by her saliva. She was pushing herself at him, eager to move past the foreplay, into the real deal and he couldn't blame her.
Seifer was panting by now; consumed by this insatiable desire he'd carried with him for years now. The sun was setting on his unspoken wishes; they were coming true, lighting him with such wild fire he'd never experienced before. He tore the last of her underwear from his way. For the slightest moment she claimed eye contact, her blue eyes beyond bewildered and anticipating. She ran her fingertips across his regal face and inhaled victoriously as she pushed him down instead and climbed atop him. He never voiced a complaint, just revelled in the pain when his back slammed against stone and she opened his pants, finally removing the obstacle that'd kept their heated bodies from merging.
Tomorrow she would hold her breast in pain, nurture the bite marks he'd made and feel sorrow for losing a part of her whilst taken in by lunacy. But that was tomorrow; today she knew nothing of regret or distress.
TBC