A/N: Why hello. Some might have noticed but I am rewriting some of the chapters, mostly editing and adding some things in. I know that the introduction chapter desperately needed some re-working. This story I've been working on for years and I've recently come back to it after accidentally abandoning it for quite a while. Anyways...I hope you new readers enjoy and I hope that if any of my previous readers still enjoy =) xoxoxox
Bleed for Me
Everything was so blissful after the passionate kiss he and Rinoa had shared on the balcony the night they'd announced their victory over Ultimecia. Even with Irvine and Selphie at the doors, cursing the fact that they could no longer record the rare instance of Squall showing intimacy, nothing seemed out of place or awkward.
Standing beside him was a goddess, a spirited girl with raven-black hair and a fiery soul that matched the mischievous smile in her eyes. She grinned at him as she pointed towards the sky. "Did you see that?" she had whispered, her finger following the streak of light that glittered across the heavens.
He offered her a smile, the first smile he genuinely had in years it seemed. When he reached for her, took her into his arms to hold her lithe body close to his, he was well aware of the peering eyes that watched his every move. He could feel the heat of their stares blare down atop the back of his neck.
Normally not one to show public displays of affection—or emotion, for that matter—he ignored the bothersome chatter and brushed Rinoa's long bangs from her face. His fingers disappeared beneath her hair to cup the base of her skull. The nerves across of his lips tingled in electric anticipation for the feel and taste of her skin.
Visions of her sprawled across blood red sheets, her inky hair trailing over satiny pillows as she reached for him in want, entered his mind. His body called for hers. He yanked her into him, his primitive male actions earning a surprised gasp from Rinoa which then melted into a sultry chuckle. She bit her lip and wrapped her arms possessively around his waist. "The others…?" she began.
Squall silenced her by capturing her lips with his own. He was in love, and he didn't give two shits about who saw. Though it wasn't their first kiss together, it was the first one outside closed doors.
They all had emerged from the final battle alive with only a few battle wounds as badges for their triumph. While Quistis had a broken nose, Irvine nursed a sprained ankle and dislocated shoulder, Zell a broken collar bone, and Selphie a fractured wrist. Rinoa had only fractured two ribs, several rows of gashes across her front when Griever slashed at her.
Squall was proud to announce he left with his life. After he'd gotten lost in time for who knew how long, he collapsed in exhaustion, his heart stopping in result to the strain. If Rinoa hadn't found him...he would have been lost forever.
When she found him lying there broken and unconscious, she became overtaken by grief. As she broke down and cried, she felt power surge through her veins. She felt it course through her body like fiery electricity. It thrummed across her flesh. When the power broke free it swarmed out of her body and enveloped her surroundings. It brought life back to not only the barren desert they were lost in, but also to the man who lay dead before her. The tumultuous sky softened into a pale and sunny blue, the cracked and dry land became lush with green grass and fragrant flowers. She felt beneath her palms the rise and fall of his chest and the tears of grief that streamed down her cheeks turned instantly to tears of joy.
When he opened his eyes she had never been so happy to see the color blue before. It had always been her favorite color, but now she wanted to wrap herself up in it. When his eyes traveled to meet hers they sparked with more emotion she knew he would be willing to share. Instead, they shared a moment that involved a choked up smile from Rinoa and Squall's fingers wrapping themselves around her tiny wrist.
"I so want to kiss you right now," she had whispered. "But I don't want to smother you."
He responded with a small gesture of his finger that said 'come here.'
It was a fairy tale ending. Everyone was alive. Everyone was well. Just about everything was going perfectly.
Until she left.
Barely even two months after their victorious return, Rinoa was nowhere to be found. The day after the banquet, the Garden landed back to its home, and the happy couple moved into a small one bedroom apartment in Balamb. Their honeymoon stage went full throttle. Rinoa was ecstatic to play the role of house-wife when she wasn't working at the Garden or training her powers. She happily bustled around Balamb for fabrics and textiles to decorate their little nest. She enjoyed teaching herself how to cook fabulous steak dinners for Squall to come home to.
It was a welcomed routine for the both of them. Squall and Rinoa would both head to the Garden at dawn, spend roughly two hours in the training center, Squall would them separate and head to the office to recruit and train. Rinoa got a part-time position at the library and when her shifts were over she would head off into the woods with Edea, who, even though no longer had her powers, was able to help Rinoa perfect her magic. When the sun began to set Rinoa would head home and prepare dinner. Squall would come home and help her finish cooking. They would feast, clear off the table, and then he'd take her into the bedroom and fervently show any and all appreciation. Sometimes they wouldn't even make it past the living room floor.
But then Squall came home one night after training some new SeeD recruits. He unlocked the door, expecting to find Rinoa lounging in the living room with Angelo as she always did, only to find it empty. He immediately went to the bedroom and found her side of the closet empty, her weapons gone from the cabinet. As he dialed her cell phone a wave of dread washed over him as he heard the familiar jingle on the bed behind him. Beneath the glowing phone was a slip of paper and he greedily snatched it up, his eyes scanning over the short reply. I'm sorry.
Squall had nothing to do other than to sit on the bed, his head in his hand as he continuously read over the two words written in Rinoa's handwriting. And even after he finally regained his breath and called the rest of the group, they were all distraught and confused as he was to learn of Rinoa's sudden departure.
No one knew she was leaving. No one knew why. And as Squall inquired every taxi and rental business, ferrymen, and workers at the train station, no one had seen her leave. She had taken her clothes, her weapons, her makeup, and her dog. Left behind was her phone and the odd blue duster she wore. And as Squall ventured to the bathroom to take a shower, he found his ring nestled safely beside the sink, still looped inside the chain.
He waited up for her, continuously glanced at his phone in hopes that he would hear something—anything—that would give him some sort of answer. A few days after her disappearance the only news he discovered was that she dropped off her inanimate possessions at a storage facility in Deling, under her mother's married name no less. As Squall read over the paperwork and receipts from the storage facility, he noticed that it was indeed written in Rinoa's handwriting and dated the day after her sudden departure. Since he was in Deling, Squall took a chance and visited General Caraway, who, even though did not know the whereabouts of his daughter, did have Angelo in his possession. "He was roaming around the backyard and will not leave Rinoa's old room," he told Squall. Even though Caraway offered his assistance to Squall, he did tell him, "If Rinoa doesn't want to be found, she won't be."
Squall felt as if he was lost back in that barren desert, aimlessly wandering and searching. Days turned into nights. Nights turned into weeks. Time passed. Slowly. When Squall would crawl into bed he would stare at the empty space, would glare at the pillow that should have been filled with a face that smiled sweetly at him. Instead it was filled with nothing. It still smelled of her shampoo. He would grasp the corner of the pillow and hurl it to the opposite end of the room. Then, in the middle of the night he would crawl from the bed and reluctantly drag the pillow back, grasping it desperately against his chest.
When Squall would enter his own home, the only comfort to be found was at the bottom of a bottle.