It wasn't supposed to happen. She knew it. She tried to find reasons for shifting the guilt she felt a little, easing it somewhat. She tried to convince herself that it was the cold. Maybe it was the mood. Or maybe it wasn't anything at all. Just a spur of the moment incident. She tried to find any cracks on the enormous guilt she was feeling right at this moment, but all she found was the undeniable truth. That what happened did happen, and they were all too conscious about it.
Quistis Trepe looked out of the window of the car they were driving which they have rented from Balamb. The whole journey was uncomfortable for her, eversince that incident in the icy-cold Hawkwind mountains in Trabia. They were sent on a routine search-and-retrieve mission by Headmaster Cid, on the request of a prominent corporation in Deling. A blackmail case. Apparently, it seemed that a group of terrorists stole a top-secret data file which contained sensitive information about the company and its executives. Political reasons prevented the corporation from contacting the local authorities. And so, a request was made through B-Garden to handle the matter. Delicate cases required delicate measures. The Garden does not involve itself in politics, but since the corporation was willing to give out a considerable amount as payment for the safe retrieval of the data and document, Headmaster Cid agreed. And they were tasked for the job. "They" happened to be herself, and Squall Leonheart. She could still remember when it started.
A week ago...
"Just the two of us, Headmaster?" she asked. "Against a group of well-armed terrorists?"
"Two SeeDs should be enough," Cid replied. "Besides, you two are among the best. Dincht and Kinneas are still on a mission in Dollet. And Tilmitt's working full time on the new security measures in the Garden. As it stands, Instructor Trepe, you and Leonheart are about the only able SeeDs I could think of for this mission. Unless of course you want Almasy to be an optional third...?"
Oh no, not Seifer. She lowered her head a bit and sighed, brushing back a strand of golden-yellow hair from her face as she bit her lower lip, thinking.
"But what about my clas--?" she started.
"I have asked Ruth to be your substitute," he answered before she could even finish. "I think she is more than capable enough. If I may remember right, you had high recommendations for her."
Yes, yes, Ruth, she thought. She was more than capable of handling the class for her. But just the two of them against a group? SeeDs are among the best mercenaries around, trained since their early teens for measures and countermeasures. But just the two of them? It wasn't that she lacked confidence in her skill, or in Squall for that matter. The mere fact that they were acclaimed saviors of the world in that whole Sorceress incident a year or so past had already assured them of a niche in history. But the fact still remained that they're just human. A single bullet...
It was at this moment that the door opened and Squall Leonheart came in. He was dressed in a neatly pressed SeeD uniform. He walked in in that calculating and silent gait he seemed to have mastered. Those dark brown eyes regarded her as he came in to stand beside her. Up until now, she still felt a tug whenever those eyes pierced deep into hers. Never mind the fact that she had made it clear that what she felt before their little adventure back then against Ultimecia was just a mere "crush" and nothing more. Besides, he and Rinoa are still going on strong, even though they hardly see each other at days when she's with her father back in Deling. Still, she can't deny the fact that that little "crush" she had on him was still there.
"Squall Leonheart reporting in as requested, sir," he said formally. She tried to hide a snicker. He still hasn't changed much. Although he was more sociable now (and even that was stretching it too much), he was still one to be no-nonsense when it came to official matters.
"At ease, Leonheart," Cid said. "A private corporation in Deling has commissioned us for a job. You both are to retrieve an MO disk containing pertinent and sensitive information about said corporation. They paid big money for this job, Leonheart. I have told Intructor Trepe of the details of the case."
With that, Squall looked back at her, his eyebrow raised a bit. Those dark brown eyes again. "It's just us?"
She chuckled a bit and turned to Cid. "See? Precisely my question a while ago."
Cid let out a sigh. "Yes, just you two. I have the utmost confidence in your skills." He tossed a large manila envelope on the table before them. "Here are the tickets and other information you might need. As for anything else, you can buy them. You will be sent gil credits via your e-pads, as always. You can go by sea, via Dollet. Anything you might need, you can probably get at Deling. No contacts with our client there, if you do decide on going. All the information you will ever need is in the envelope. This is going to be a secret mission, so we will try to be as low profile as possible."
She got the envelope and took a peek inside it, finding the two train tickets they were to take to Dollet, and a stop-over at Deling, if they felt like it. She glanced briefly at Squall. Rinoa's at Deling right now. She smiled as he looked back at her. "Well, Squall. Should we stop by Deling for a bit? You might want to see someone before we go undertake this one."
"Any plans you might make, you can make while on the way," Cid said to the two. "If there aren't any more questions...dismissed."
"I wonder how Rinoa is doing?" She asked, looking out of the train's window, resting her cheeks in her hands. It was a rhetorical question, she knew, but the silence in the room they were assigned in was getting to her. Squall wasn't one to initiate any conversation, so she was pretty much stuck to starting any talks.
"As always," Squall replied without opening his eyes. His hands were crossed, as if dozing off to sleep while sitting, his legs stretched out in front of him. How he managed to stay in that position for the past two hours without shifting was beyond her. He was in his familiar black leather jacket, with the white fur. She opted instead for a more casual red vest over yellow sleeveless shirt, and skin tight jeans, which somehow framed her svelte figure. She could have worn her favorite pink and orange clothes, but somehow, she wanted a change of pace during missions. Also, for a change, she let her golden hair hang loose; the silky strands framing her heart-shaped face and resting loosely on her shoulders and back.
"When was the last time you both were together?" she asked, turning back to him, looking at his profile.
"A month ago," he replied without so much as a look at her. "She said she had to be with her father today. It seemed like General Caraway was on a temporary leave of absence, and she thinks that this is a good time for some daughter-father bonding."
"And she didn't ask you along?" she asked, with just a hint of teasing in her voice. She brushed back some hair behind her ear, still looking at him. When Squall didn't reply, she let out a sigh and then turned her attention back to the window, to the view outside.
"You should wear your hair that way more often," he suddenly said after a considerable amount of silence.
"Huh?" she asked, turning back to him, a bit absentminded.
"I said, you should let your hair loose more often, that way." It was then that he opened his eyes and looked at her, giving her a soft gaze. She couldn't figure out what he was thinking then. But she couldn't help but blush. To her surprise, Squall smiled a bit.
"You're blushing," he said.
"I'm often wearing my hair this way," she said defensively. Damn! She blushed, and he saw! "You just didn't notice, until now."
"I wonder why?" he said, matter-of-factly. Then, tilting his head a bit as if looking at some new experiment, he regarded her again. "I'm serious, though. You should let loose your hair more often. I think more freshmen would become Trepies come next Garden enrollment."
Again, she blushed. She tried to hide it by turning back to the window. Seeing that they were about to arrive at the Deling station, she let out a relieved breath. You got over him already, Quistis Trepe, she told herself. It was nothing more than a crush. Quit blushing like an idiot!
"Better get our things ready," she said, trying to change the subject. "We're gonna be arriving at Deling in a few minutes."
As if on cue, the train conductor hollered out their stop. She took her bag and started to step out of the room ahead of Squall. Damn it all! She blushed!
They rang the doorbell of the great Caraway mansion. This has only been the third time she'd been here in this residence. The first time was when they plotted the assassination of Ultimecia during their adventure, and the second was after the whole thing ended. Rinoa invited them all here then to celebrate their victory. Up until now, she still couldn't believe that the self-styled "Princess of the Forest Owls" was in all actuality the daughter of the famed General Caraway.
Squall repeatedly rang the doorbell, tapping his finger impatiently on the doorframe in between presses. She just stood behind him, her hands clasping the handle of the light travelling bag she was carrying. Finally, there was a faint sound of steps bounding on the carpeted floor, followed by a young girl's voice shouting "Commiiing!"
The door finally opened to reveal a young girl dressed in peach sleeveless blouse and cream-colored jeans. Her black hair was interrupted by thin streaks of light browns in her bangs. She was wearing an apron, and if that wasn't any indication enough of what she had been doing, the flour covering her hands were. When she saw who had been incessantly ringing their doorbell like crazy, her brown eyes turned round as saucers and she let out a squeal of surprised delight.
"Squall!!!" she shouted, immediately embracing the young man's neck with her flour-covered arms. Not losing a beat, she immediately tip-toed and clasped his lips with hers excitedly, as if not doing so would mean her death. Squall wrapped his arms around her waist, returning back her kiss with as much passion.
Looking at the two lovebirds in their embrace, she couldn't help but feel as if she was an intruder. Placing a hand over her mouth, she coughed. Politely.
Rinoa let go, and when she saw her, she let out another friendly smile, and turned to hug her. "Quisty! You're here too? I'm sorry...I didn't notice you."
"I can see why," she replied back jokingly.
"Oh, where are my manners!" she said, ushering them in. "Dad went away for a while to buy a few things. I'm cooking a delicious dinner for him. I didn't know you'll be visiting us! Why didn't you gave me an advance warning? I could've cooked more lasagna."
"Oh, don't bother Rinny," she said. "We won't be staying long. Our train for Dollet will be leaving in an hour and we just thought we'd drop by and see how you're doing."
"Oh, I'm fine! Very fine!" Rinoa said, clearing up some stray magazines on the couch. "Wait...to Dollet? What are you both gonna be doing there?"
"We're on a mission," she replied, sitting down. "We're going to retrieve some stuff some terrorists stole from a private company here in Deling. Information sources said that they're now currently hiding somewhere in the Hawkwind area of Trabia. We're going to take a boat from Dollet to there."
"T-terrorists?" she said, her eyes registering worry as she placed a hand over her mouth. She turned to look at Squall. "Isn't that going to be dangerous? I mean, the others are going to be with you, right? Zell, and Irvine? Maybe, even Selphie?"
Squall looked at Rinoa and shook his head. "Just us. Headmaster Cid said that it's going to be a low-profile mission."
"B-but that's ridiculous!" Rinoa said, taking a step toward her boyfriend. "It's dangerous, with just you two! I mean, I know you're top SeeDs and all, but you're not superheroes!"
Squall walked towards his girlfriend and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. He brushed back her hair with the other, all the while trying to give her a reassuring smile.
"Don't worry, Rinoa. We'll be safe. I promise."
"I want you both to come back here, alright?" Rinoa said, resting her head on his chest. She turned to her. "Quisty, take good care of my Squall? I know he can be a blockhead and all, but please bring him back here to me in one piece?"
She smiled, taking both her hands with hers. "Don't worry, Rinny. No harm'll come to him."
Squall just looked at them both, and shook his head, sighing.
If there was one thing she hated about the continent of Trabia, it was the perpetual cold that seemed to blanket the lands all year through. True, there were patches of greens here and there but those were so very few and far in between. Trabia was a land of cold and white. It takes little analysis to know why the terrorists chose this part of the world to situate their hideout.
The information they gleaned said that the terrorists were holed up in Evercrest mountain, in the Salteir Range near Hawkwind Plains. For that, they were going to be doing some heavy mountain climbing. Not that that part will be any problem seeing as how they were already climbing mountains and cliffs eversince they were in their junior years as Garden cadets. The only problem would be planning out a strategy to get in, retrieve the data they need, and then get out. Cid told them to be as cautious as possible. No unnecessary confrontation, and fight only if they have to. That part was easier said than done, seeing as how they didn't have any blueprints or computer-image layout of the whole area. In essence, they had to plan things up as they go. They decided to sneak in after dusk, when darkness would welcome them in its arms.
Up until now, she still can't help but marvel at how she and Squall seemed to be in synch with each other in that mission. Or in any mission, for that matter. It was as if each already knew what they had to do, with minimum or no radio contact at all. They only had to look at each other and know what each was supposed to do, in conjunction with the other's actions. In any field, this has been proven and noticed time and again. It was like a telepathic bond that was shared by players in a team game. Only in them, the bond seemed stronger; more clearly defined. Maybe it was the experience they shared together when they were battling Ultimecia then. But then again, she didn't share this kind of empathy and synchronization with Zell or Irvine. Or even with Selphie. It was just with Squall. How and why, she had no idea.
That was the reason why they were able to easily penetrate the hideout. Dressed in their special Garden issue synth-suits---a pair of skin-tight black mesh and latex suits with its own thermal-sensitive micro-circuitry---they had no trouble with the whole place's cold atmosphere. It also offered extreme mobility, seeing as how it hugged her body as if it was second skin. Her hair was tied in that familiar way of hers.
Stealth was their prime weapon, and it was a weapon they wielded well. They crept in like cats on the prowl, never making as much as a slight noise. Infra-red goggles helped them see the trip laser-wires which were occasionally placed as a measure of security. In truth, she had expected more from the terrorists. Laser cameras, maybe, or at least some sort of sensitive panels. She remembered heaving a sigh of relief then. Maybe this job was going to be a walk in the park, after all. Why the hell had she worried about just being the two of them in this mission?
The only intricate security measure was the safe which held the MO disk they were to retrieve. And even that was just a slightly complex matrix-type binary series of code. Although she was not as much of a computer whiz as Selphie, she managed to unlock the safe in less then a minute. Everything was going like clockwork, with Squall guarding her back. With the rate they were breezing through this mission, she thought that they'd be at the next boat back to Dollet in less than a day.
Whether it was fate, or just her too-complacent attitude about the whole mission which made her trip that tiny laser beam as they were escaping from that place, she didn't know. But now, thinking about it all, if only she still maintained her guard throughout the whole mission, she wouldn't have tripped anything at all, and that incident in that old abandoned cabin wouldn't have happened. And she wouldn't be feeling this enormous sense of guilt right now. If only she didn't get too cocky on their way out. If only she didn't get swept up by her emotions. If only. Too many "if's".
When the alarm blared, it only took less than a minute for the terrorists to start storming the place. They ran, oblivious of the many trip-wires they'll encounter now. Shouts of "There they are!!!" from behind them caused them to quicken their pace, even as the sound of gunfire started. Bullets ricocheted behind then, while as many zipped past like bees buzzing in their ears.
Squall turned around and knelt. Even as she stopped to ask what the hell he was doing, his hands were already glowing with concentration. Almost immediately, the whole area was engulfed in extreme heat, so much so that the bullets coming at them melted even in mid-air. Their pursuers screamed as they felt their bodies suddenly boiling and bursting in flames. She narrowed her eyes even as she covered her mouth and nose with the back of her hands. The smell of burning human flesh wafted through the air. That was one of the reasons why she never stocked up on extreme level spells like Ultima. It was too much to be cast to any human.
"C'mon!" he growled under his breath as he turned around. "I cannot cast that anymore." But even as they started resuming their run, they heard voices ahead of them, through the corridor corners on the left and right. The elevator they were to take was just ahead.
Squall was, as always, devoid of any emotion other than then complete determination. He was already unwrapping the zip-case which carried his gunblade Lion Heart even as she was slowly unwrapping her own Save the Queen from her waist. The first two terrorists that suddenly appeared from the corner corridors got the honor of being the first to fall down. With one swift motion, Squall turned around, bringing his gunblade on an arc and slashing the terrorist's chest. She herself lithely executed a perfect handstand which would make any gymnast proud and, using it as a leverage, catapulted herself and straddled the opponent's head with her legs and twisted. There was an audible "CRACK!" as the terrorrist's neck snapped like a twig. She then followed Squall through the elevator which would take them outside, to the white world. The sound of bullets hitting the steel door soon followed.
"So much for stealth," she heard Squall say as they started their ascent. He was breathing a bit hard, and his jaw tightented.
"What's the matter?" she asked him, stepping forward.
"It's nothing," he said, even as his eyes narrowed.
Ignoring what he just said, she touched his back and was surprised to find wetness there. Bringing her fingers up, she found blood. "You're hurt!"
"I told you it was nothing!" Squall said.
"Shut up and stop acting as if it doesn't hurt," she snapped, laying a soft hand on his back. Thankfully, the bullet didn't seem to hit any vital organs. Maybe just the shoulder blades, if she could guess it right. She was never one for medical expertise.
"It doesn't," he said. Frowning at him through her glasses, she applied a pressure at the wound.
"Agh!" he growled, wincing in pain. The edges of her lips started to curve up to a subtle smile.
"Now hold still while I'll see what I can do." She said to him while the soft glow of green Curaga started to caress through his skin. It felt cool to the touch, and in moments, the wound started to close as the slug was ejected out of the body with a "THUNK". There was only numbness where the wound was, now.
"Now all you need is rest," she said to him. Curaga spells can only cure physical wounds barring, of course, the extreme cases like damage to internal vital organs. However, after it was being cast on someone, the feeling of extreme exhaustion sets in. Curaga, in itself, does not cause the healing of wounds, but rather, it speeds up the natural healing factor of the body. This would cause the body to churn out the cells needed for recovery at ten times its normal rate. Rest was mandatory afterwards.
"We have to get out of here," he said, leaning on the elevator wall. He watched the floor number steadily rose to one.
"Lean on me," she whispered as the door chimed open. Squall draped an arm around her shoulders, helping her support him by trying to walk as well. They took a step forward and looked forward...to the gun muzzles of about twenty or so terrorists.
"Side!" she screamed, pushing Squall towards his side of the elevator even as she flattened herself on hers. A hail of gunfire ensued, riddling the back part of the elevator wall with countless bullet holes. The smoke of the gunfire blanketed the air, and soon, only the ringing staccato of sub-machine guns were the only sound. After about 10 minutes of non-stop gunfire, the whole place suddenly turned quite, as if a switch has been shut off suddenly.
Then, suddenly, a glow started to emanate from amidst the smoke on the elevator. Everything darkened, and a flash of light arose from the floor, in front of the gunmen. A figure suddenly rose, misty and ghostlike, and yet seemed solid enough to be tangible. It was the figure of a beautiful woman in blue. Sparse coverings of crystals covered the intimate parts of her body, and her eyes froze the blood of the gunmen, who were staring at her in a mixture of awe, lust, and fear. Her figure seemd to be exquisitely carved, and parts of her body shimmered like that of a lady in some medieval lake. Such was the vision of Shiva, the guardian force borne from ice. Cold seemed to immediately permeate the air, and even in their arctic gear, the terrorrists could feel the intense cold creep deep into their tendons and bones. Their teeth chattered and, in a dazzling view of flashes and colors, Shiva arched her back and extended her arms forward. Almost immediately, jagged diamond dusts of crystalline ice made a pathway towards the men, skewering some as they strike out of the ground. Splinters flew outwards, embedding itself into the others. The screams of death echoed throughout the corridor. It was the only sound she needed to hear before she tentatively snuck a peek out of her side of the elevator. Bodies sprawled amidst the splashes of blood spattered on the walls and floor. Some were still twitching, feeling the cold in their hearts.
"C'mon," she said as she helped Squall up. "Let's get out of here."
And in the cold, they started their long trek out of the hideout, a pair of black specks amidst the glaring white snow, as the last rays of the sun clung on the far west.
Squall's breathing was ragged, and his teeth started to chatter. When the bullet hit him, it ripped his synth-suit, destroying the fine circuitry that distributed its thermal capability through the whole body. In all intents and purposes, it was no more than just a piece of latex micro-machine mesh now, hardly a covering against the piercing cold. To top it all off, a snowstorm picked this time to rage war against nature. The freezing wind was howling at them, while ice and snow fell like small pebbles.
"Hold on Squall," she said, trying to find their way. She looked around, amidst the white covered pines and faraway mountains. Looking at her watch, she saw that it was already five minutes to seven in the evening. Their whole operation took less than an hour. She must've taken a wrong turn somewhere. The electronic compass was no use now, broken while on their way out. Can anything be worse? she thought to herself.
"F-freezing....c-c-cold," Squall gasped, tightening his hold on her in an attempt to share body heat.
"Don't worry...just hang on," she whispered. "I guess we'll just have to find some place to rest for the night while this storm blows over. We can't find our way back in this storm and with you exhausted and freezing like this."
She thought she saw him nod.
Then, in the far distance, her eyes caught a break of brown against the whites. Squinting, she took out her electronic binoculars and turned on the night-vision option. She almost let out a whoop of joy as she saw a cabin. It looked abandoned, but seemed to still be on fine condition. She turned back to Squall, whose lips had started to turn a light shade of blue.
"Squall, there's a cabin just ahead, a few hundred meters away. Will you be able to manage walking that far?" He nodded weakly, his eyes seeming to drift. Supporting him, and trying to hold her body close to his to warm him, they started the long walk to the place which seemed to be a godsend to two weary souls in this blank place of white and cold.
She had been right. The cabin was abandoned. She turned on the flashlight option of her watch and gave the place a look-around. Thankfully, there were a few things its last owner left behind. And the fireplace was a comforting welcome. She placed Squall in front of it. He huddled over, fetal-position, shivering. At least now, he wasn't beaten down by cold, she thought. But she knew that she had to find something to light up the fireplace. She started to inspect the place better. There has to be some firewood here. She did find some, piled outside the cabin on the back. Carrying an armful, she placed them on the fireplace and cast Firaga on them. The whole place suddenly brightened, and the fire gave flickering light, making shadows dance around the place. The warmth was comforting to Squall, that much she can see, as he edged closer to the fire weakly. She turned off her flashlight and proceeded to inspect the place further.
She saw an old oak door on the far end of the cabin, and walked to open it. It tried to resist at first, but after some grunts and slams, it finally relented. She swung it open, and was thankful to see some musty and moth-eaten blanket and mattresses. There were also a few candles, although some were uselessly broken now. There was no oil lamp, though. However, seeing their luck, she supposed that she had to be thankful enough. She carried the blanket and mattresses to where Squall was huddled. He was still shivering, inspite of the warmth of the fireplace.
"Squall, I've found some blanket and mattresses. They're dusty and old, but I suppose they will have to do." She placed the things beside him. Taking a deep breath, she knelt beside him. "We have to get you out of that synth-suit as well. It's wet, and that wouldn't be good to your health. As it stands now, this blanket gives more protection from the cold than your synth-suit, at least until it has dried." Why the hell was she explaining all this? Squall did not respond, still shivering, teeth chattering somewhat. Oh no. Please don't let this be hypothermia, she thought to herself, worry starting to build up. Hesitatingly, at first, she ran her hands towards his throat, where she found the small zip-clasp. She undid it, and started to peel the suit off him. It seemed that the suit did more harm than good, as she predicted. His body was effectively wet. The suit, now devoid of its thermal capabilities, absorbed the ice and his body heat has condensed it to water, making him colder the longer he was outside in the cold. The skin-tight fit only made it worse.
Slowly, she took off the synth-suit from his body. The fire gave off shadows, and she unconsciously found herself looking at his somewhat muscular chest and fine build. Taking the suit off further, her gaze fell on his muscled thighs and...Damn it Quistis! she chided herself. Keep your eyes off where they shouldn't be! The primary thing here is to keep him warm!
Quickly getting off the synth-suit out of his legs finally, she turned and looked away as she placed it to dry in front of the fireplace. The shadows still played at her mind, mentally pricking in them her imaginations. She tried her best to shut them off. To seal them on the far corners of her mind, where they ought to belong. Taking the blanket and mattress, she was finally glad to cover him with it. Wrapping him fully, she softly edged him closer to the fire. He was still shivering, mists coming out of his mouth in the darkness.
She tried to be calm. In cases of hypothermia, it is imperative that the body be warmed up in gradual degrees. And slowly, something crept into her mind. A lecture she learned while she was still a Garden cadet. The most effective way to warm a body is for another human being to share their body heat with the victim. Heart pounding nervously, she looked at Squall and debated whether it was hypothermia, or just extreme cold. Is the fireplace warm enough? The blanket? Is it really necessary...?
She looked at his face. That dark-brown hair matted wet now, with snow. That scar which made him look even more bestial, and yet more human. The color did come back to his face now. That pale flesh which she only saw turn red in blushing only on rare occassions. His chattering teeth and gasping breath. Was it really necessary...? Finally, she made up her mind. She stood up and, clasping the zip-lock on her throat collar, she undid it and zipped it full-way down to below her navel, exposing her pale flesh to view. She slipped out of the suit, her naked, beautiful figure shadowed by the dancing flames---the only witnesses to the figure many Balamb Garden male students would kill to get a glimpse of. She placed the suit aside, near Squall's, and knelt beside the shivering figure huddled in the pile of blanket and a couple of mattresses. Crawling beside him, she flipped aside the blanket and lay beside him, his back to her. The touch as their skin made contact with each other sent surges of electricity down her body, making her body hair stand on end. Was she crazy to do this? No. she thought. There is nothing more to this than just my need for him to survive. I promised Rinoa...
Slowly, she wrapped her arms around him, cradling him. Her breasts flattened on his back, and she won't even try and describe how that felt. There was only the heat between then, and she felt the cold of his body. The mixture of wetness, and the warmth, and her heat didn't help the rapid beating of her heart any. She felt nervous, afraid, excited. Admittedly, there was more excitement then the other two. What was she thinking?! She didn't know how long she was supposed to hold him like this. Maybe until his breathing has recovered in their normal pace. It shouldn't be too hard, she thought. They were so very close to each other now that his breathing seemed to be hers. Every heave of his chest, she felt. Softly, she rested her cheek and lips on his back, just contented on hearing him rapidly breathe time and again. A rhythmic beat which seemed to be her universe for now.
She felt something caress the side of her hair, and she hazily opened her eyes. Drowsiness turned to surprise when she saw Squall facing him, looking at her with that softly-quiet boyish look. It seemed that his breathing had returned to normal, although she could still feel some cold pressing her skin.
Pressing her skin?!
Hastily she tried to look at her watch, when he said softly, "It's past midnight."
"H-how long were you watching me? I mean to say...how long have you been awake?" she asked, her mind a cornocupia of questions and thoughts.
"About an hour now," he replied. "I...woke up to find you embracing me. I..."
"I was just tryi--" she hastily started to explain.
"I know," he said. "I could guess. I was in and out of consciousness. I don't even remember half what happened when we started to walk away from that place..."
"A-are you okay now?" she asked, concerned.
"Yes," he said, smiling softly. The way he smiled still sent shivers up her heart. It was just a crush, right? It was just a crush. Nothing more. "Thank you...I...Quisty..."
She can't scarcely remember when he last called her Quisty, if ever. Quisty? It seemed strange coming out of his mouth. It was like a foreigner saying a common word, and somehow making it sound like an exotic name. Quisty. There was a sensual taste to it.
They looked at each other's eyes for what seemed like a touch of forever. All other objects around them seemed to be shut out, while they were in their own room, alone. Naked. Their senses seemed to play fiddle with each others'. She could smell the musky scent of him, and the touch she felt on his skin seemed to be so natural. How his hands rested on her hair seemed to have been planned out by some power long ago. Their breathing were ragged, each a testament of the drums playing in their respective hearts. She drowned in his deep brown sea he calls his eyes, and they never flickered nor blinked. The next thing she knew, his lips were pressed closed to hers. She felt the salty-soft taste of his sweat, no doubt by the warmth. By her warmth. By their fires. And even then, she still felt the slightest touch of cold on it. The mixture sent her shivering, and she clasped his lips even more, even as she hurriedly embraced his neck.
She let out a deep sighing moan as he softly kissed the contours of her neck, feeling her salty taste in his mouth. There are lines and pathways secret to everyone else, but to that man brave enough to explore a woman's cartography. Everything is marked in a woman's body. The sensual places of Lust and Desire. The warmth of Love and Passion. Every place dreamt of by man is found in a woman's land. Hers is the body of untrodden lands. Worldly paradise. And now, he was softly exploring her. Every inch of her. He was drowning in the ocean that was her.
Softly, he slowly ran fingers on both her arms, to her hands, and finally ended in their hands clasping each others as their passion grew to unbounded heights. Every breath he let out singed her skin; each kiss he made on her stomach, on her thighs, on the valley between her breasts sent her moaning, making her call out his name. Who was drowning in which, now?
If the nights could be endless, it was etched in frozen seconds that time. Even now, remembering it all, she still shivered as if reliving it brought her back to that moment. Her mind continued on...
She could still vividly remember how she pushed him on his back, in front of that fireplace and straddled him. Her hair fell sensually on her shoulders and back, the ribbon that clasped it just mere moments ago lying somewhere together with her glasses. The fire made her golden-hair seemed to burn as the sun. Some of the golden strands matted on her forehead, as both of them explored each other, each bathing in each other's sweat. She looked deep into his eyes, wanting him to drown him in her this time. Those eyes were very far from the eyes of the demure intructor at Balamb Garden, so often fantasized by countless male students. Those eyes Squall saw then were the eyes of someone hungry to be filled. She arched her back then, her hands resting on his chest. She heard him softly cry out even as his hands run through her arms. She leaned forward again, kissing his chest and playing with his nipples, those silky soft golden hair caressing his whole body as softly as the wind. She ran kisses from his stomach, to his chest, up to his throat and chin. And then to his mouth, where their tongues fought like snakes on Eve's garden. He brushed trembling hands through matted yellow hair and clasped the back of her neck as they tried to outkiss each other.
The poetry of two people sharing each other's souls was new to her. She never thought that there was something better then her contentment at guiding young minds. It was only now when she realized just how much she had deprived herself of someone's touch, and affection. Not that she had a world of experience, this being her first time, but she could actually touch Squall more than the physical now. When was lust ever in conjunction with love? For so long, she had held off her feelings, putting it in the pretense of a mere "crush". She never realized just how deprived she was. She did love Squall. It was foolish of her to suppress that. She loved him when she laid eyes on him amongst the other boys in her class. She tried to reach through his wall of security and aloofness, wanting to get in and find out what makes him so anti-social and sullen. She wanted every part of him, then. And all of it she hid under the mask of a "crush". Was she wrong in doing that? The blankets were thrown aside, and the matresses forgotten. The fires danced around their naked bodies, witnessing wild, unbridled passion at play. Every corner of their bodies was cast in deep shadows, while their eyes burned more fiercely than the fire in the fireplace. She lost count on how many times she was brought to the penultimate that time. She lost count of how many times she cried out his name, or how much blood of his her fingers drew as she clutched feverishly on his shoulders.
There was only her, and him that existed that time. Them, and nothing else.
When they went back to Rinoa's mansion at Deling, she couldn't meet her eyes. Rinoa still greeted them enthusiastically, kissing Squall as if they haven't met in ages. She felt a pang of jealousy at that, and it was all she could do not to turn away and look at somewhere else. Look at something. Anything, except that kiss. The only consolation she felt was that she thought Squall wasn't as enthusiastic as before. Or maybe that was just her wishful thinking.
"You both are alright!" Rinoa said happily, brushing back black hair. She turned and embraced Quistis. "I knew you would look out for him. So, how was the mission? Was it successful? Was my Squall being a blockhead?" She giggled at that.
"Y-yes," she stammered. "The mission was a great success, Rinny. And...Squall wasn't being a blockhead. Not at all...I think you've cured him of that." She gave her a smile which she fervently hoped was genuine.
"You have to stay the night here!" She said to them both. "I wouldn't take no for an answer! I think your Headmaster Cid wouldn't miss you for a day more! Besides, I have tried to perfect cooking something for when you two arrives." She turned to Squall and playfully looked up at him. "I cooked your favorite."
Squall looked at Rinoa and smiled, not saying anything. The fact that he'd been silent most of the time didn't seem to strike Rinoa as odd, thank heavens. They accepted her invitation.
After the meal, the three of them chatted for quite a bit, sitting on the main room. Rinoa was leaning on Squall on the couch, her arms wrapped around his while she intentionally sat across them, on an old leather chair. Squall looked at her in that questioning way of his that made her uncomfortable, and she tried to look at anything else but the two of them. Finally, she excused herself politely, saying that she was a bit weary of the travel, and that the two might need some private time together. Saying those last few words almost made her choke. She hurriedly went upstairs, to the room assigned to her.
Upon closing the door, she immediately leaned back against it, and cried, slipping slowly down until she sat on the floor, burying her face in her hands. Until now, she wasn't one to lose her composure. Indeed, she had been known to be one of the coolest and more calculated instructors in the whole B-Garden. But right now, she was a total and emotional wreck.
She didn't know what hurt more: the fact that her affirmations with her feelings for Squall were true, or the fact that she had just violated the trust of one of her closest friends. She felt angry whenever she looked at them together, now. Insanely jealous. She didn't even know if she had the right to feel that way. And felt guilty for doing so. Rinoa was always open to her, and the dark-haired girl knew that she "felt" something for Squall even before they met. When she reassured her that it was only a mere "crush" and nothing more, she seemed to have bonded with her more. And now, what happened just put a serious strain on her feelings about herself, Squall, and Rinoa. She looked up at the ceiling, tears streaming down her pretty face. God, what had she done?
Betrayals were something new to her. In all her life, she had never betrayed someone's trust before, professionally or otherwise. And now, the burden was too much for her to bear. It was like having a bomb inside your chest, waiting to explode, but the room inside a human heart was only so much. She wanted to explode; to let loose all these feelings of hurt, and guilt, and pain. Green was the color of envy, and red were her eyes from crying. She immediately got up and rummaged through her traveling bag, looking for something. She immediately found it placed beneath her brassieres. Her old diary which she had kept eversince she started training in Garden. It was one of the very few things she kept after all these years. In it, she placed every secret and feeling she had ever wanted to write down. Her first schoolgirl "crush". The first time she noticed Squall sitting there solemnly in the corner on that day he first became her student. The adventures they had battling Ultimecia.
All the major events in her young life she had in there.
She lay stomach-down on her bed, not caring to change to her nightgown. She started writing. The pen flew across the page automatically, without even so much as a pause.
"I love him. Dammit, but I do. When we made love in that cabin that night, I fully realized just how much I've held back after all these times. I shouldn't have dismissed it just so, like that. Maybe, it would have been me and him, instead of Rinoa. Rinny, I'm sorry. I violated your trust. I don't know what came over me that time. Over the two of us. You held me so dear in your heart like a true friend, and I repaid you with this. I'm sorry, Rinny. Please. Forgive me. Dear heavens, forgive me.
There is only so much pain and guilt a human heart can endure. Only so many secrets it can keep. I don't know why I'm writing this. Maybe to at least let out a few of the pain I feel. Most of the guilt. I shouldn't have tripped that wire back there. It was supposed to be so easy. Just retrieve the disk and get out as silenbtly as we came. But it never did happen that way. And one thing led to another, and now I'm feeling like hell.
I'm sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry........"
She screamed and ripped out the page and crumpled it and threw it at the trash basket, and then broke down again, sobbing. Tears fell down on the bed much like rain do whenever there is a mourning. In a way, there was. Something died inside of her. Something personal. Something that made her her. She fell asleep that night, crying.
And now, they were nearing B-Garden. No doubt the news of their success would be greeted with acclaim, and Headmaster Cid would be beaming down at them again, like so many times in the past. But she did not care. She just looked out of the vehicle's window and watched the trees pass by.
"Quisty, we're almost there," Squall said, interrupting her thoughts. "Are you alright? You've been quite the past few days."
"I'm alright Squall," she smiled at him and then turned back to look outside.
As alright as a traitor can be.