Disclaimer: I don't own FFX. I mean, if I did, wouldn't I have just made the story this way? So would I even be writing this if I did own it? Didn't think so. And this is the only disclaimer I'm giving. I shouldn't have to repeat the fing obvious! Thank you.
AN: Hello! Well, this started as a pet project for me late one May evening, as I sat and pondered why there are little to none of the pairing I am focusing on in this fic. I'm not saying what it is though, because A) The prologue is in first person B) I'm a bitch and like to torment the readers and C) The prologue reads better if you don't know the pairing. The hint though, is that the prologue is in the POV of a girl! So I'll leave it at that.
I was frustrated that I've only seen one fic with this pairing, and was discussing it with a friend, who told me to, and I quote, "Write one your damn self if it pisses you off so fing much! Just stop your bitching already!" And so, this fic was born.
Much thanks to Brie, my good, friend who urged me to write this. :snuggles hard:
On with the damned story though!
Thanks for reading!
-Kitsuko
Oh yeah, and note, the first four sentences are in third person!Another note! The paragraph that is between asterisks, like so, is not my own work. That is a reference to Jaina and Arafel's Daily Special, a one-shot Trigun PWP fic located on www. Mediaminer. org be sure to take out the spaces:mutters: Stupid FFN... that I love. I want them to be accredited with that, though I have paraphrased, I don't want a mass of you telling me I have plagiarised their fic. So I'm crediting them now.
If Only Prologue--If Only I…For a while there was only her and there was only him.
For a while there was only them.
And that was enough; the simple melody of lovers, though torn by sorrow and hardship, in their dreams and hearts they pictured a life together, even as the crying rang through sleepless nights and beliefs were shattered and spread upon the wind's gentle tendrils. And at the end, they both had one thought: "If only we could be together a little longer..."
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We knew it could never last with us, but passion is so very hard to deny, and neither of us were strong enough to do that, despite the way the others looked up to us for support and a way to act in the midst of the suffering of our group.
Yevon knows I tried to fight it. I told myself that he wasn't interested, and that he didn't feel the same. But he did. I think maybe this would've been eaiser if I had been right and if he hadn't reciprocated my feelings. So many nights of suffering wouldn't have happened, and my heart wouldn't have been sacrificed to the torture that followed when he left.
I find myself unsure of his emotions for me at times, and then will berate myself for ever doubting the things that he relinquished for me. I wish that he had been selfish, it would've been eaiser to hate him if he had been.
I think if I hated him, I wouldn't feel this way, but every time I try to force myself to loathe the being that he was, I find it impossible, and realize he was far to great a man to have such emotions bestowed upon his entity.
I was young...certainly not the youngest in the group, but at least I was far younger than him. I was a little on the naïve side of things, in a sense still waiting for my knight in shining armor to come, since I thought once that I had found him, although that fell through. And naïve as I was, he still saw me, and loved me, with everything that he was.
And I saw and loved him. It was strange, as inexperienced as I was, I still knew that I needed him, in so many senses of the word need.
I needed him spiritually, to complete my soul and fill the empty loneliness that often plagued me at night when I was attempting to sleep.
I needed him as a friend, to be my advisor and confidante. A man wise beyond his years, when I would sit and stare at the campfire as I pondered my miniscule dilemmas, for can I call them dilemmas with the problems that had haunted Spira for a thousand years, he would always have a kind and gentle word to help me figure out the solution. Granted, they weren't always delivered in the gentlest of ways; often I received them in the form of that ungraceful sweetness that one tends to find in six year old boys, he could still make me feel better.
And lastly, I needed him in the basest of ways, the animalistic desire that consumes men and turns their hearts blacker than a moonless night. To become one with him was always the most beautiful thing in Spira.
Our coupling had many personalities, sometimes being fast and playful; other times it was soft, slow and reminiscent of a lover's serenade; and sometimes sweet and passionate to the point of being choking. My favorite facet though, was always when we lost ourselves in the feel and beauty of one another; with sweet whispers of, "I love you," and, "I'll always need you; you complete me, my love."
He once told me that that was his favorite type of love-making as well. I remember the smile he wore on his face as he told me. It was the most exquisite thing I had ever seen.
He had smiled at me and said, "To be one with you...is an incredible feeling. I love basking in your scent and hearing you call out for me. It's the most phenomenal sentiment to ever be experienced by a man. I adore feeling that you love and want only me; honestly, you should place these emotions upon another. I'm so unworthy of your affections that you bestowing them upon me is the most incredible gift that anyone could give me."
In irony, though, I was the one that felt unworthy. To have such a great man give me himself, and pledge undying ardor unto my personage felt like a blessing from the heavens themselves. I frequently told him that he ought to return to the nirvana from whence he came, as surely he must have been a fallen angel to bless me with his devotion and companionship.
When I told him that late one evening as we struggled to catch our breath after satiating our desire for one another, he just smiled and called me his seraph.
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I think I loved him from the first time I saw him; he was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. I don't say that meaning that he was feminine looking, though. He had an exotic, quiet intensity type of allure to him. He was, as I later began to affectionately call him, man-pretty. His masculine features were only accented by the slightly feminine lines of his jaw, with cheekbones high enough to make any girl jealous, but low enough that they reassured his masculinity.
I still miss him sometimes, although I shouldn't. Our time together passed, and I knew it would be unfair to ask for more, as much as I wanted to have it.
So I never did ask. But now that I'm looking back on it, and now that he's gone, I find myself wishing that I had, because I keep realising there are so many things I left unsaid.
I know that he knew I loved him, but I wish I had said it to him more often. I usually reserved saying that for when we were making love, and for the last time I saw him, as he faded away. I whispered it to him as I had cried, and he had mouthed the words back to me.
I assumed that he was okay with me rarity of my expressions, but you know what they say about assuming. I never realised what a good man he was… Yuna is tuned into the fact that there was something between us, and I think that she deserves to know what two of her guardians went through. I guess that means eventually I'll have to tell her about the ordeal.
I don't really desire to do so, as it dredges up far to many painful memories. Although there were a lot of happy memories to go along with the painful ones, the hurt of his departure overshadows the felicity of his presence in my life. The elation that singularly is accompanied by sorrow was worth it though. I'd gladly take a lifetime of pain for just one more day of joy between the two of us.
To dance the lovers' dance with him just one more time would make me more exuberant than I had ever been before I had met him. To have his head rest on my stomach in the afterglow of spent passion as he pressed butterfly kisses to my flesh was pure bliss; to stroke his hair gently as I whispered my love for him was a unique euphoria that cannot be located again.
But Yuna deserves to know, more than anybody, and so I'll tell her, and everyone after that. I believe that Kimahri already knew, but I'll still tell. He also deserves honesty; after all that he did for the two of us, it's all I have left to give him in gratitude.
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And so, the story all started when I first met him. The sun was bright and cheerful amidst the panic and the dangerous silence that followed… and I saw him for the first time, and fell in love.
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End PrologueAN: Well, that's the prologue! Another hint has arisen, this fic isn't about Yuna! Good thing too, I really dislike her, as she pisses me off all the time! So it's either about Rikku or Lulu. Let's see if somebody guesses it in their review. Anybody notice I'm hinting at people to review? Yeah, well, I am. So review. If you get it right, I'll dedicate the first chapter to you. If you get the paring, I'll declare you supreme ruler of Rubber Ducky Land! Oh, yeah, I need a beta, folks! Apply in a review if you'd like to beta for me! Another review hint folks. Do it. Review. Or I'll have the hamster patrol of Cheese World Beta 9 trample you with their banana stallions. Do it! Till next time!
-Kitsuko
