"Most self-imposed burdens are founded on misperceptions. We—at least we of sincere character—always judge ourselves by stricter standards than we expect others to abide by. It is a curse, I suppose, or a blessing, depending on how one views it...Take it as a blessing, my friend, an inner calling that forces you to strive to unattainable heights." - R.A. Salvatore
Chapter 1 – Pleasantries
"It was supposed to be a forgettable experience. She wasn't supposed to cross the privacy and solace of my thoughts ever again. Her creamy white skin, raven black hair with such innocent eyes . . . and she was innocent . . . until I was through with her. She was supposed to be part of business, a casualty of the job, but here I am now thinking of the soft lips that whispered my name tenderly as I took her virginity. I did what no person should ever consciously do to another – I let her fall in love with me while pretending to love her back.
My work required information about Galbadia's military activity and plans, and she is the general's daughter. I left her the night she told me what I needed to know, gave me the confidential files, believing and trusting that I was working for the good of the world.
That's laughable. I'm the furthest thing away from a philanthropist; I'm a mercenary hired by Galbadia's prime competitor, Balamb Garden. I accomplished my mission just like I was ordered . . . she was just a casualty – it wasn't my fault she became so useful. What the fuck did I care if her heart broke when she found I had left in the morning – the morning after I had acquired my goal, the information, and along the way her 'innocence.'
Her name? Rinoa Caraway. That's actually more than I remember for most of the women I've bedded for job reasons. Cruel? Perhaps . . . but this is the only life I know how to live. I suppose I think of Rinoa now because she was the most innocent of them all – she actually thought she could change my distant demeanor – the fact that I never talked about my private life at all or said 'I love you' to her. If it's one thing that I don't do, it is to tell that lie; even I'm not that heartless.
My current assignment will be one of the most challenging I've ever faced – I have to regain her trust and to see her again. Don't get me wrong, it's not because I have developed any amorous feelings for her, rather part of my new mission – to obtain the second half of the files. Yeah that's right, she didn't get both parts of the file, and now all we know is there is going to be an invasion by Galbadia into Balamb, but no date.
My mission is what I consider the hardest because of the toll on my conscience. Rinoa actually seems like a decent girl and I try not to break a girl's heart twice.
Hopefully I won't be spending a long time completing this case. The sooner I get it done the sooner I get rid of her for the rest of my life. She needs to find someone else anyways – I'm definitely not the type for long term . . . relationships, or anything of any emotional nature for that matter. Feelings don't get the job done, feelings don't help promotions, and feelings can certainly make you feel shitty at times. It's pessimistic, but I've survived with this philosophy, so you can't tell me it's completely wrong.
I'm on the train now that will take me into Deling and back to her. I wonder what she'll say, if she'll even talk to me initially. I know she will forgive me and think our relationship, if it's even that, is the soul-mate love she's looking for because I've thought of the best excuse for my absence for over a week:
I'm going to ask her to marry me . . . just for the job."
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"That'll be fourty gil sir," the florist politely stated, handing a dozen of his best roses to the tall brunette man waiting impatiently in the shadows.
Squall handed him a fifty gil note and nodded his thanks. Pushing himself off the wall that had been his previous support he took the fragrant deep red blooms with one swift motion. Whistling to himself in a dark tune he thought of the promotion that would accompany his success in the mission. "Commander Leonhart . . . it has a nice ring to it."
He pulled out his sleek new cell phone model and dialed the number that had seeded itself in his memory. Her phone rang once, twice, and then she answered.
Her voice shook with pain, anger, and heartbreak. She exhaled the breath she had been holding, attempting to steady her voice.
"She knows it's me alright."
"What do you want Squall?" She spat out his name.
"Hey babe, how are you?" Squall pricked his finger on the thorn of one of the roses. Acting charming was not a test of his ability, but rather of his conscience. There was no question in his mind that he would have preferred a simpler mission, but Cid was testing skills other than battle prowess. Higher positions in Garden required greater skill in all areas of warfare.
A drop of blood matching the color of the roses formed on the tip of his finger. He shook it away carelessly, watching in fascination as it formed a perfect sphere before splattering on the sidewalk.
"Hey babe, how are you?" Rinoa asked incredulously. "That's all you can say to me after disappearing for more than a week? Especially after . . . didn't that matter to you at all? Or staying with me the morning after?" Her voice cracked at the obvious pain that emanated through her entire being. "You know . . ." she choked back a sob, "it was my first time, and you just disappeared! I thought you didn't care or were even hurt or dead! You didn't even call me!"
Squall rolled his eyes. "Hyne, the things I put up with – pms-ing women are definitely not my favorite thing." "Look, I'm sorry but there was something extremely important that came up. I'll explain everything to you; just meet me at Deling Central Park as soon as you can."
"Squall, I don't know if I want to see you again . . ." she began. "After all the pain and worry you put me through . . .Hyne! You don't –" Rinoa ranted but was interrupted by Squall.
"Rin, just trust me."
Squall strolled towards the park, which was only a couple of blocks from his current location. He calculated that this assignment should take less than a week.
There was a pause on the phone and Squall heard her sigh heavily. "Alright. I'll see you there in five minutes."
"Works like a charm." The phone clicked and Squall's unreadable face returned. He was handsomely dressed and he knew the Rinoa would be secretly impressed. She didn't even know the real him – the lone wolf that hardly smiled, or his need for solitude, refuge in training, or even his real name. Not that it made any difference; she was insignificant in the scheme of things.
Squall hurried past the people leisurely strolling by and had spare time as he comfortably seated himself beneath the tree Rinoa had dubbed as 'their' spot. Hiding the roses behind his back, he stretched his long legs out and cracked his neck. He'd need a break from the missions soon. The stress of work was getting to him despite the seeming peace Deling's beautiful summer weather offered to tourists and wayward travelers. A light breeze drifted through the air, fluttering through Squall's hair, giving it a more natural, rugged look. He savored the smell of the air just after the rain, associating it with Deling and Rinoa.
Dusting off the soot that had latched itself to his dress jacket which extended slightly beyond his hip and fit him perfectly, Squall checked himself over once to make sure everything was in place. The slacks and grey dress shirt brought out the grey flecks in his eyes, not that anyone could see his eyes beyond the silver reflective shades that hinted at his desire to be reclusive. He knew he was attractive, the open mouths of the women he passed on the street told him that much. Squall only needed to impress one woman though and didn't give the others a second glance, not that he would if he was off-duty anyways. Women were merely a distraction and caused . . . complications.
Slender long legs stopped in front of Squall's vision. He allowed himself to trace the model legs up to the black skirt and light blue silk top he knew she would be wearing – it was her favorite blouse after all. Her hair was flowing free in the light wind and there was no mar or flaw in her beautiful face. Her skin was milky white, her fingers soft and delicate, and her eyes a luminous brown. Her figure was just as attractive and perfect as he remembered. She was definitely easy on the eyes. "Squall," she started, interrupting his silent appreciation.
Squall lifted himself off the ground and stood a few inches taller than Rinoa, despite the fact she was wearing two inch stilettos. "Rinoa," he began as he took her hand despite her initial reaction of jerking it away. "I know I haven't been a very good boyfriend in the last week, but. . ." Rinoa arched an eyebrow as she looked wearily at Squall. He pulled out the bouquet of luscious flowers with spiraling petals that resembled the fading colors of a sunset and held it to her. And just as he expected, she gasped.
"Just as superficial as I thought." Squall rolled his eyes behind the sunglasses.
Rinoa's eyes shimmered with newly formed tears as she waited for Squall to continue, fingering the feathery-soft petals of the flowers. Squall pretended to be nervous as he slowly took off his glasses, only now revealing blue-gray orbs that met Rinoa's. Pulling out a small velvet box, he revealed the pricey gem inside. It was simplistic in its elegance, and thoughtless. He hadn't cared when he bought it. He gave the surprised dealer a price range and the man had picked the ring out for him. The process had taken less than five minutes.
"I want you to know you're the only woman for me," Squall began. He congratulated himself on rehearsing it beforehand. "And I want you to be the only woman for me for the rest of our lives. Rinoa Caraway, will you marry me?"
Rinoa smiled gently. Squall was waiting impatiently as his leg began to cramp from his awkward position. "Yes Squall, of course I'll marry you." She placed her arms around him, giving him a hug of reassurance as he initially stiffened in response to the contact. "That's what you were planning this last week. Oh Hyne, I thought it was just a one night thing to you."
Squall smiled inwardly at how right she really was. "At least she's not completely stupid." "Rinoa, how could you think that . . . after everything?" Squall gave her a charming smile that was not his own.
"You're right, I shouldn't have doubted you." Rinoa laid her head upon Squall's shoulder, still hugging him. Squall gently pulled her left hand out and slipped the ring on.
"See, perfect fit for the perfect girl," Squall murmured in her ear.
"And you're the perfect man," whispered Rinoa as she tenderly kissed Squall.
"No, more like the perfect actor," Squall added silently as he pulled her to him and mindlessly kissed her back.
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"Yes , I understand sir. Things are going well sir; I should have the rest of the files within the week. Thank you. Bye." Squall shut his cell phone and plopped down on the clean sheets of the apartment bed, thinking about the day's events. Rinoa was going crazy planning the wedding despite there being no set date. "Women." She had been talking about the details and asked his opinion on everything. "As if I care." He finally managed to escape her with the excuse he was tired and she could go ahead and plan without him. This mission was definitely taxing.
Sweat beaded in small droplets on his head and he gingerly took off the expensive dress jacket. He decided to take a shower to relieve the heat. Unbuttoning his shirt he closed his eyes imagining the cool droplets upon his skin when someone knocking on the door interrupted his peace. Squall growled in annoyance.
"Who is it?!" he yelled loudly.
"It's me, Rinoa," came the voice across the door.
Squall sighed and put on his best charming, patient smile. "To think I was escaping her for a short while . . ." Forgetting and uncaring even if he had remembered, Squall answered the door with his shirt still unbuttoned, exposing his well toned chest.
"Forget something?" Squall asked. He arched an eyebrow when Rinoa didn't say anything and traced her gaze. He let out a low chuckle.
Rinoa blushed, unable to cover the attraction she felt. The hard firm muscles she could now visibly see without the protection of a shirt. With a medium tan, broad shoulders, and a rugged handsomeness, Squall was definitely distracting her. The word sexy was an understatement for Squall. She tore her gaze away from his heavenly body and met his genuinely amused eyes. His sturdy tall frame rested against the doorway as he folded his arms, waiting for her to give him the reason she had come.
"I . . .I" Rinoa stumbled upon her words. Annoyed with herself she tried to remember the reason she had come to see him and turned her gaze from him to think. "I actually forgot why I came . . ." she blushed again, agitated with herself "and I'm quite embarrassed."
"Why don't you come in, give yourself a few minutes to think about it? I'm not doing anything important right now," Squall offered making a small gesture inwards.
"If I come in I may never leave," Rinoa muttered under her breath as she accepted the offer by stepping in. She smelled the traces of cool aftershave Squall wore and closed her eyes at the familiar, comforting scent.
Squall hid a smile and pretended not to hear her comment as he closed and locked the door. Rinoa delicately sat on the black Italian leather sofa, crossing her long legs in a lady-like fashion as taught by the etiquette classes she had been forced to attend as a teenager. She didn't notice her skirt riding higher exposing creamy slender legs, but Squall certainly did. He had been thinking about her body every since the last night with her. He licked his lips and swallowed. "Shit. Got to think of something else."
Taking himself away from his new thoughts, he concentrated on simple things. "Want something to drink?" Squall asked, still studying Rinoa.
She was chewing on her lip with an elbow propped up on the arm of the sofa and looking out the window. She turned to him, smiled and waved a hand distractedly. "No thanks. You don't need to cater to me. Go ahead and continue what you were doing before I came; I really don't mind." She twirled a strand of hair around her finger, another of her habits that betrayed her preoccupied mind.
Squall was amused. "If you insist." He took off his unbuttoned shirt and playfully tossed it over her eyes.
"Squall!" Rinoa exclaimed shocked. How was she supposed to practice self-restraint now?
"What? I'm shy," he teased purposefully ignorant of the real reason for her shock. "Besides I know you'll look. You've been stalking me ever since the first time you laid your eyes on my wonderful self. Not to mention my shirt is . . . somewhat clean," he teased. Squall wanted her and the shower was forgotten. "By the way, why did you come up to me in the first place? Couldn't resist my good looks?"
"Whatever, just hurry up. Your shirt stinks," she said crossing her arms with her eyes still covered by the shirt, expertly changing the subject just as her father had taught her through his lifelong avoidance of particular topics.
Hearing nothing around her she thought Squall had left the room for the shower. She jumped slightly when she felt a warm breath tickle her ear and her body shivered in anticipation.
"I resent that. It was a relatively clean shirt," he whispered huskily, muzzling her ear with his lips as he pulled the shirt off her eyes. Pulling her to him, Squall gently massaged her shoulders and placed hungry kisses on the nape of her neck. She moaned softly, mesmerized in Squall's spell. Leaning back into him, she wrapped one arm around the back of his neck entwining her fingers in his locks while he continued to trail kisses. He moved one of his hands down the side of her body, allowing himself to feel what he had been dreaming about. Moving one hand upwards he caressed her sensually, eliciting another moan from Rinoa.
Tired of his patience, Squall swiftly turned and pinned Rinoa to the couch. Her eyes closed as she indulged her senses. Rinoa caressed Squall's face tenderly while meeting his lips in a gentle kiss. She bit on his lower lip and moved her cheek to his smooth shaven one. "I love you Squall Loire," she whispered as she lowered herself back onto the couch, letting Squall take control.
Loire. Squall had chosen the pseudonym, and the name he would have had if he were living in a patrilineal society as an ironic gesture. He hated his father just as he hated this part of himself – the debonair man that was not his true self but merely a shell he wore as part of his job.
Sadness flickered in his face for the briefest of seconds and then he gave her his infamous half smile. "If only you loved Squall Leonhart." His thought surprised him but didn't stop him from unbuttoning her shirt and tossing it to the floor. Removing their clothing expertly, Squall nipped hard at Rinoa's exposed flesh. He pushed wistful, pointless thoughts out of his mind through being forceful with her. He roughly kissed her and caressed her body to the point of almost being painful. She reacted in pleasure and he growled, crushing her delicate lips with a strong kiss. He wanted her to feel his pain, his loneliness, the burden of the work he was forced to do; things he could and would never tell her. She was just a tool, not his equal.
Squall Loire was passionate, suave, a bit of a lady's man, and who Rinoa was in love with. He would not fail to give her the illusions that comforted her. It was the smallest bit of kindness he would show – temporary joy. Granted his work was made easier by seduction and falsities, but he felt the slightest obligation towards the girl whose heart he was going to break.
Rinoa's eyes fluttered open as Squall joined their bodies into one. Locking her eyes onto his, she graced him with beautiful innocence; as he stared into her eyes he saw an undisguised bittersweetness that he didn't understand. He had never such a haunted broken-hearted look. "What the hell?" His conscience responded to his query: "You sound like you almost care Leonhart." "I don't." To prove his point he lost himself in a heated kiss with the beautiful woman beside him ignoring the pain he had seen in her eyes.
Seconds passed, and Time continued its chartered course of fading into memory and memory into oblivion. She gasped and shuddered, holding onto his muscled figure for support and whispered sweet nothings into his ear. She gave into him, letting him taking her as he pleased, giving him one of the most prized of treasures. It was the act that joined two lovers, consummation of their unity and affirmation of their love. It was the same act that bonded soulmates.
But for Squall it was merely a small reward in his line of work. It was simply pleasure and nothing more. Even with her inexperience she had been the best of all the women he had had by far. "She's a good fuck, nothing more," he convinced himself.
He took her hard and fast, punishing her for his wrongdoings, as if the guilt could shed from his body like a second skin. As he reached his climax, he collapsed panting heavily, tired from straining himself. He moaned and clasped Rinoa in his arms as she too experienced physical pleasure. She wrapped her arms around him, letting him fall asleep, keeping his body warm with her own. She sighed as he was claimed by his mistress, sleep.
She tenderly brushed a strand of fallen hair from his face, caressing him. Her normally jovial eyes had turned a dark melancholy brown. Her heart shivered from its burden of loneliness and pain as it was ironically alone despite the presence of another heart beating so close to it. She closed her eyes, blinking back her tears; she hadn't genuinely cried since the death of her mother so many years ago, and she refused to now for the sleeping figure. He wasn't worth it.
She twisted a strand of his hair around her finger and combed his hair with soft strokes of her hand. "If only you truly loved me Squall . . . if only," she whispered wistfully.
The words softly echoed into his ears, and his mind tried to rouse him as it recognized the sadness and importance of those words. His heart trembled at her pain, trying to wake its owner to comfort her, but to no avail.
Squall slept on.
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Rinoa left early in the morning, before Squall could leave her. He would not stay through the morning she knew. She dressed quickly and silently. Squall lay on the couch sleeping, covered with a blanket she had thrown over him. She kissed her fingers and pressed them to Squall's cheek, studying and memorizing his rugged features.
"I wish I knew you . . ." she began. "The real you . . ." She turned to the window, watching as Helios's chariot began its run through the sky, relieving Selene from her nightly duties. The moon bid its farewell as sunlight crept in through cracks in the curtains. Dawn was approaching and with it her courage and honesty would leave her. She was a daughter of the night, sister to the moon – revealing her true self only in the darkness and in solitude. Born to the world of glittering parties and infinite pretenses, Rinoa hid herself behind many guises.
"I tried everything to make you love me." She folded her arms for comfort or from the cold, and turned to Squall once more. "At one point I thought you were the one for me . . . the person I could spend the rest of my life with. But how can I be yours when you won't even show me who you really are?" She fingered the dead weight of the engagement ring on her finger. The sparkling diamond glittered lifelessly on her hand.
"I'm sorry . . . for the both of us," she spoke softly and honestly, sweeping her hand through his silky brown hair once more. "What will never be, and what never has been. But at least . . . it was a sweet dream."
Her dream dissipated like the hazy fog with the coming of the light. She admired him once more and left him, and her dream behind. Rinoa closed the door softly and Squall never once stirred to the soundless weeping of her soul.
Author's Note: I'm still working on the other story, Outcast, so no worries there. Thanks everyone for the support and patience so far. A special thanks to The Angel of the Lion for valuable opinions regarding this chapter.