Seifer stared at his reflection angrily. The long thing scar on his forehead was standing out more than ever, a constant reminder of his rival, his nemesis. Frustration of this permanent mark on his otherwise perfect face was coupled with nervous anxiety about what to say and do next time they met. Since the end of the second Sorceress' War he had been accepted back into Garden to complete his SeeD training on the strict condition that 3 strikes and he was out for good. Everyone around him resented that decision feeling that Seifer only needed one strike to cause havoc again. Just shows how well they fucking know me, he thought savagely. He threw his cupboard door closed with a crash and slumped down on his bed, clenching his teeth and fists to vent his anger. A loud bang on his door caused him to growl. He sat up and yelled at the door. "Fuck off! Whatever you have to say I've heard it before and I DON'T CARE!" "Shut up Seifer and open this door," replied a voice that could freeze a volcano. It certainly had the desired effect of Seifer as his heart skipped a beat and froze at the same time. Being caught unawares was his worst nightmare, but when it involved Squall, the terror was unthinkable. His throat was sticky making impossible to answer. Frantically he searched around for things that he didn't wasn't seen, dirty washing and such, and bolted to the door, kicking them under his bed as he went. He quickly ran his hand through his golden hair and opened the door. Squall was standing there in his usual I-have-better-things-to-do- with-my-time pose. One gloved hand on his hip and his head to one side with his chestnut hair flopping over his eyes. As he wasn't looking, Seifer had the split second he needed, equipping himself with his well-known smirk. "What?" he spat. Right now he couldn't trust himself with anything more than monosyllables. Squall turned his fierce grey eyes to glare into Seifers' terrified sapphire ones. This coincidently caught Squall off guard. He had always regarded Seifer with a dutiful resentment that he didn't really feel. This scared, almost venerable look in his rivals' eyes was intriguing and unnerving. Seifer continued to hold his gaze feeling lost in a puzzled sadness that he wanted to soothe and comfort. Squall was the one that finally broke it, flickering his eyes down to the ground. "Hurry up, we're going training," he mumbled, trying not to show the embarrassment in his voice. "Squall Leonhart? Training with me? I'm sorry but I'm washing my hair." Immediately as the words left his mouth, Seifer started cursing himself. This was just the intimate and inclusive opportunity he had been longing for since his return. He slammed the door shut so Squall could not see the water welling in his eyes as his stomach turned with excitement. Softly he leant his head on the door, hearing the creak of leather as Squall stormed off and almost feeling the glare through the wood. Seifer trudged to his bed and lay down, trying and failing to blink the tears from his eyes before they trickled down the contours of his face.