Kiss Me
By Lady Pyrefly
Author's Note: The title for this story, and the two others that will follow it, are all lyrics from a song called Child's Prey, by Dir En Grey (a Japanese rock band.) -smiles- Enjoi.
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"Sis…" Squall begged, outside the orphanage. He stood in his yellow sweatshirt in front of the think cement pillars as the rain poured down around him. "Sis, I'm all alone," he said, tears obviously filling his voice. He paused, and when he spoke again, every trace of sadness had gone, all that could be heard in the young boy's voice was a steely determination. "But I'll be okay." It sounded almost as if he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
"You haven't lost her…" someone said, from the other side of the wide column. "You'll find her…"
Squall, just a little frightened, took a deep breath and walked around the support to see who had spoken to him. But no one was there. All that remained of this mysterious encouragement was a small, damp white feather lying innocently on the ground.
- - -
"Sis…" Squall begged, outside the orphanage. He stood in his black jacket, tightened to keep out the chill, in front of the think cement pillars as the rain poured down around him. "Sis, I'm not alone anymore," he said, no element of sadness in his tone. He paused, and when he spoke again, the same steely determination he had displayed so often in the months before. "I'm okay." It sounded almost as if, for once in his life, he really believed it.
"I told you that you hadn't lost her…" someone said, from the other side of the wide column. "I told you that you'd find her…"
Squall, not scared at all, immediately took three steps around support to see who had spoken to him. He was surprised by what he saw. Quistis leaned against the cold cement, her golden hair plastered by the rain to her head and shoulders. A feather, black as night, twirled in her hands.
"You."
Quistis, finally acknowledging Squall's presence looked up. "Me," she agreed. The rain kept falling.
With a sigh, Squall reached into the pocket on the inside of his jacket, and withdrew from it a feather. White, frayed and a little muddy in parts, but still white.
Quistis raised an eyebrow. "You kept it all these years?" she asked, as Squall nodded. "How quaint."
There was a lull in the conversation. Squall gave a sort of half-smile; the kind you use when you don't know what to say. "For a long time, I didn't know why I kept it. It's just a feather," he said, with a glance down at it. "And it's dirty and old now."
Quistis offered the black feather she held. "I know Rinoa gave you white feathers."
Squall took the dark feather from her outreaching hands and pondered this for a moment. "Yeah, she did," he said, looking down at the feather in his hand. And it was true, Rinoa did give him white feathers. For some reason, Squall found himself realizing he liked black ones better.
Slowly, although perhaps not as slowly or hesitatingly as one would expect, Squall leant in to the woman in front of him, and kissed her lips softly.
The rain, as if in answer to their actions, slowed to a delicate drifting, and finally stopped.
