Author's Note: Hello! This story takes place in the FF8 universe, same characters and all, but AU in terms that it doesn't follow the game's storyline. Some elements of that may be used here. Canon pairings, sorry if you don't like Squall/Rinoa but this fic will be centered on them. There will be plenty of the other characters with their own storylines as well. Just a quick disclaimer to say that the characters, locations, etc etc do not belong to me but to Square-Enix. Thanks in advance for checking this fic out. Enjoy.
"I thought... I'd never see you again."
Her voice is husky, slightly hoarse. Her words are spoken so softly that they fade into the smoky atmosphere.
He can hardly see her; plumes of smoke, low-key lighting, and the haze of alcohol cloud his vision. Perhaps the hotel bar wasn't the most proper place to meet her, but the truth was transport to a more suitable venue would have taken far too long. He had to see her right that moment. He had waited years, and he could not wait anymore.
He swirls his whiskey in the glass, seemingly fascinated with the rich golden hue it seemed to emit in the light...or perhaps he's afraid to look at her?
"To be honest, I never thought I'd see you again either." He pauses. "...And it terrified me."
He risks a glance at her now. Although hidden in shadow, he can still see her angular features – the prominent cheekbones, the sharp jaw. Now her cheeks flush, staining the alabaster skin with wine.
"Look, I don't have long. My daughter is waiting for me. If we're seen, then-"
"I know," he cuts her off. "I'm sorry. I know we don't have a lot of time. Seeing you is enough. I'm glad that you're happy." It wasn't like him not to talk, but the agony of the last few weeks seemed to have changed him.
She wants to explain, then. But she can't, and she's well aware that both of them have already moved on.
"I really can't be seen with you," she says, standing. She pushes a brown envelope towards him. "This is all the information you need. I...please, be careful." She pauses, maybe waiting for him to say something. He doesn't. Instead he finally drinks his whiskey, downing it in one go. "Goodbye, Laguna."
She turns away, but suddenly he grabs her and he's kissing her like it's their first and their last kiss. It's only when it's over that she realizes that it is the first, and it is most definitely the last. A love that died before it was given the chance to bloom. She chokes back her tears. "Goodbye."
He watches her go, his face etched with regret and agony, their passionate and tense reunion unnoticed by the other patrons.
Or so he thought.
-13 Years Later-
"Get back here, young lady. I'm not asking you, I'm telling you!"
Rinoa Heartilly seethed with irritation and anger as she wheeled to face her father.
"You have no idea what you're getting yourself into! I know you think that you understand, but the situation is much more complicated th-"
"Oh, so now you're calling me an idiot?" She shouts back, bristling with fury. "I understand perfectly well what's going on. I also understand that you're too much of a coward to actually do anything about it!"
He takes a few steps closer to her now. It's a verbal boxing match – father versus daughter, military commander versus young revolutionary. She looks so much like her mother, but there's ferocity in her dark eyes that he cannot recognize; Julia's were always peaceful, maybe a little sad. Then again, his daughter probably has more to be angry about. He tries again. "I'm doing my best to diffuse the situation, Rinoa," he growls, his voice rough and sharp; a serrated blade. "I would hope that even you would realize I can't simply barge in there and-"
She laughs, and the disdainful sound echoes off the high ceiling above them. Paired with the dark hallway and the sombre, eerie paintings that line the wall, it feels less like a home and more like a museum. "Mom at least tried, Caraway. But then again, I'm sure you already knew that."
He pauses, pain dancing across his features, his heart exposed for one brief moment; Rinoa was sure that if she blinked she would have missed it. "There's absolutely no evidence that's true, Rinoa. People will make anything up to save their own skin-"
"Oh, well...perhaps if it was your own skin on the line, Mom wouldn't have died. Oh wait. It was." She's sure she has more to say, but suddenly she's seeing stars and she realizes that she's been slapped. Hard. She raises a white hand to her reddened cheek, shaking. Everything is blurry and hot. She tries to convince herself the tears are just from anger.
"I hate you!" she spits venomously. "I've always hated you!" It's a lie but she still runs out the door, slamming it behind her. She won't come back. There is nothing left for her here anymore.
He stares at the door in shock. Sinking to his knees and pulling his hands through his hair, he realizes that this time he may have lost her for good.
"Julia," he moans, "what have I done?"