The heavy rain made a pit-pat sound against the window. The moon was hidden by the clouds but every now and then, the room was illuminated by the flash of lightning. Booms of thunder predictably followed the thunder, echoing their way to the room.
None of it mattered though, to the two figures in the room – or more specifically, on the bed.
He loved the way she felt, he loved the way she fit under him and he loved the sounds she would make just for him but he didn't love her – not yet at least. She didn't love him either, not in the normal sense of the word. Neither loved each other and neither minded that fact. Both of them used each other.
He used her because she didn't judge him, didn't expect anything from him. She was an escape from a world full of criticism. With her he felt that he could do anything he wanted.
She used him because he would make her feel important. In a world where she was looked down upon, he was the only one who didn't. He made her feel wanted, made her feel as if they were the only people in the world.
They both needed each other, needed each other to keep themselves sane. It was like a teenager rebelling against his or her parents, except they were rebelling against society. They were rebelling against all who would label them with titles and names, all those who would dare tell them what to do.
They were of the opposite in the spectrum yet closer in color than any would think.
He was on one side of it, someone important, someone who people looked up to, someone who kids dreamed about being. He was in charge of so many yet he never wanted any of it. He never wanted all the responsibility. It was dumped on him without his consent but he couldn't just abandon it. That's what she was for. He felt free from all of the responsibility and pressure when he was with her.
She was on the opposite side of the social ladder. She wasn't a beggar or anything like that, but she was looked down upon by society. They scorned her. They looked down on her just because she was different from them. They cast spiteful glares at her just because she had blindly followed a friend. That's why she needed him; when she was with him no one dared look at her like that, no one dared talk to her like that. He made her feel like someone that mattered.
She moaned in pleasure as she felt him inside of her. She loved the way he touched her when they had sex – for it certainly wasn't making love. She took comfort in the way his warm breath fell upon her naked skin as his hands caressed her in every way possible.
In this aspect she felt as if she had won some sort of battle against society and against a couple people in general. She took pleasure in knowing that she had what others sought to have. To have him.
She wasn't naïve enough to think that he belonged to her. She knew that he was using her as much as she was using him but the fact that he chose her made her feel exhilarated. He had so much to choose from and he had found her.
She could feel the pleasure building up the motions they went through became quicker and rougher. Her hands drew lines of blood across his back as she involuntarily clenched her hands together.
He nuzzled his head into her neck, moaning and grunting against her skin. Somehow, the pain that she inflicted upon his back made it even more pleasurable to him. Her moaning was more evident to him now as they began to grow in volume. He could also feel the pleasure building up.
Soon it was too much to take and she let out a loud moan of ecstasy as pleasure coursed through her entire body. She felt herself tense up around him and heard him gasp as she felt him release himself in her.
She fell down into the curves of the bed and he collapsed on top of her, both of them too expended to even try to move. She didn't mind though, his weight was comforting to her. She breathed his scent in, knowing that soon they would have to go back into the world and every little look would have to be secretive. She turned her head and looked at the windows. They were a little fogged up, but it wasn't really the scenery that she was looking for. She wanted to see the rain, one of the only constants in her life. She felt happy when there was rain. There was no reason really, except maybe because they had first met when it was raining.
He shifted of off her now, but didn't let go. She seemed so delicate and fragile now, unlike the façade that she put up in front of others. He took in the sight of her. She had scars on her body, but that was what happened when you lived your life fighting. He had plenty himself, most prominently being the one on his face.
She wasn't as pale as others made her out to be and she most definitely wasn't albino. He remembered how flush she looked just a few minutes ago and hid a small grin. He almost frowned then. He seemed to want to smile a lot more when he was with her.
He shook the thought away though, as she turned to meet his gaze with hers. He didn't say anything as he looked into both her eyes and she didn't either. Both of them knew comfort in silence.
They simply laid in silence, tangled up in each other's limbs. At first this was supposed to be just a one-time thing, a mistake. However both of them sought each other afterwards and couldn't bring themselves to stop. Being with each other acted like a drug. The more they met the more they wanted each other. At first it was only a few times a month, then once a week, and now almost every other night.
He remembered when it had first started. He had been training in the training center when he had decided to go to the secret area, to check if any cadets were breaking curfew. Instead, he found her there, tears running down her eyes, crying but not sobbing.
He didn't ask if she was okay because he knew she didn't want his pity. He had helped her to her dorm room then, and stayed until she stopped crying. He felt uncomfortable really, watching a girl cry and yet not sobbing, but strangely enough, he found it fitting of her.
He remembered the pit-pat of the rain as she looked him in the eye. She didn't say thank you but he knew she was grateful. Grateful for the help and grateful for the silence.
A flash of lightning had illuminated the previously dark room and he, for the first time, saw her clearly. He clearly remembered thinking how beautiful she looked. Not a sexy or cute sort of beautiful, but a haunting type of beautiful. Her eyes were bloodshot and her hair was a mess, yet, when the light hit her skin, it seemed as if she glowed.
He must have voiced his thoughts accidentally because she had replied with a, "BEAUTIFUL?"
He didn't say anything after her question, but it wasn't really needed. He had found himself uncomfortably close to her then, listening to her rhythmic breathing as he stared at into her eyes. He felt as if his insides were on fire. He had never felt this way with anyone else. He couldn't tear himself away from those lavender orbs. They were so hauntingly similar to the ones he saw in the mirror every morning.
It wasn't like those corny romance novels where the two main characters suddenly declared their undying love and kissed with a passion. He had kissed the scar on her eye then, and she had shivered under his touch. He remembered her shyly kissing the hollow of his throat. Their kisses worked their way to each other and he remembered their chaste kisses. Her lips were a little salty, due to the tears that she had spilled. Things progressed slowly, but eventually both of them were naked and he was silently asking her for permission.
It was her first time and he was gentle enough and they found a rhythm soon enough. It was the best feeling any of them had ever had. They were lost in the haze of pleasure, their bodies automatically going through the motions. It wasn't until an hour before dawn when he got up and left without a word.
She understood though. It was a one-time thing and she was glad for it. Surprisingly, she didn't feel any regrets or any anger. All she felt was that for one night, she felt important.
He sighed into her hair, his reminiscing had taken up the larger part of the night and it was near dawn already.
"… I should go."
"AFFIRMA- … yes."
He gently slipped out of her grasp and donned his clothes, feeling the comfortable weight of his gunblade against his thigh. "I'll… be seeing you, Fujin."
"Yeah… Squall."
They were on opposite sides of the spectrum, black and white so to speak. But interestingly enough, there were only shades of gray between them.
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A/N: Ahem… well. I'm pretty sure it wasn't that hard to figure out the characters. I don't really think this is that R-rated. There's so much worst stuff on TV.
I'm pretty sure I'll get lots of flames from the Fujin/Seifer and the Squall/Rinoa and maybe the Squall/Quistis and maybe even the Fujin/Quistis fans but that's okay. This is for the whole five Fujin/Squall fans out there. I'm not sure if this is a one-shot or not. I'll probably end up continuing it. Who knows.
Anyways, if you think that a bunch of stuff in the chapter contradicted each other, its okay. I think so too. I suck at writing anyways.