This has been on my computer for. ever. and I figured that to get it out of my head once and for all, I had to upload it. Enjoy!

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"Perfect," I whispered to my fresh painting. I leaned back against the bridge's thick rusty metal railing as I sat on my stool. Elbows propped behind me, I smiled at my little piece. The great Zanarkand bridge, softly melting into the background and a small red figure just coming from around the bend.

The breeze from the waters helped the paints to dry, whipping my hair softy about my cheeks. It heightened the soothing feelings and effervescent view of the vision before and around me.

I always thought of him, I always have. For a while now, I've had these dreams. I wondered if they were sent to me - although from whom I couldn't hazard the slightest guess. The dreams scared me at first but gradually I came to know the red blemish in my mind's eye. I knew his strengths, his weaknesses. From the distance, I would watch him turn towards me with a single glance before fading into the dreamland. Who was this man and why did he always look back?

And then something remarkable occurred at that moment as I slowly surfaced from the realm of my daydreams.

In the corner of my vision, I spied my revere for the first time in the flesh descending down the hilly bridge towards me. I though I was daydreaming and had to sit up to make sure what I was seeing was real. My heart jumped and I stopped breathing momentarily. I tried to catch his gaze, to see his good eye from behind the dark rims of his glasses to no avail. His body was as well hidden as his face and he remained as shadowy and mysterious as I had always seen him in my dreams. I shut my mouth as he turned his head in my direction and I ducked to hide behind my painting.

What was I doing? I was so scared. I hit my head with my palms, cursing myself, thinking that I was dreaming again. Nope. The pain was real. These were my hands. This was my painting inches from my nose. The scent of the fresh paint began to suffocate me.

I sat back up. He was still coming for me! One arm tucked in his robe, a sure and steady stride. Just like in the dreams!

A few moments later after swallowing several times and squeezing my eyes shut to clear my vision, I stood. I tried to ignore it. Maybe he was a mirage. Maybe I was going crazy!! My fingers shook as I packed my things and covered my painting with a large cloth. As I collected the last of my paints and folded the stool away, I heard a voice softly from a few feet away.

"Mae." His voice was gruff, low, melodious… Not a hallucination. No way I could imagine a voice that… ooooh kami.

I nearly went deaf from surprise and realization that this was actually him.

I shut my eyes for a split moment to collect my thoughts and still my body. Then turning around and brushing the hair from my face: "Yes?" I asked nervously. I tried not to seem too startled or distracted.

"I was told you'd be here. It is an honor to meet you."

"Is-is it? How - who told you about me?"

"Jecht."

"Jecht? How is that possible? He's been missing for years! Have you found him? Where is he?"

I held the painting to my chest and threw my bag over my shoulder, taking a step towards him, anxious to hear the words from his mouth to confirm my dreams.

"Is there someplace we can talk?"

"Of course! Come," I beckoned with a toss of my head. My eyes fluttered back and forth from the ground beneath my feet to the skyline to the figure in my peripheral vision.

I walked a few paces ahead of him, amazed that I wasn't dreaming. Why did it take so long for this man to come to me?

"You know my name," he said as we rounded past the docks.

I wasn't sure if that was a question or a statement, so I replied with a quick nod and a glace beside me, muttering, "Auron."

He laughed to himself but said nothing in reply.

I could imagine that any woman would want to walk beside a man such as he. Finally physically being in his presence was nerve-racking. Awe-striking. I tried so hard to contain myself and make sure I did not falter or trip. I had to relax.

Silently, we passed through the city, traversing our way to the other side where I kept my bar. It was dim during open hours, now pitch black. Simple and comfortable design. Felt like home to me.

Fumbling for my keys, I eventually managed to open the door and flick on the light switch.

Turning back, I requested: "If you don't mind taking a seat for a moment."

I went to the back room which was previously a storage room but now my own personal gallery. I placed my bag and canvas on the hardwood floor in the dark and collapsed against the paster wall to catch my breath before I returned and offered him a drink.

"Sake, I assume?"

He nodded, taking off his glasses and placing them on the black-top bar very carefully.

I filled a shotglass for him, which he downed in a single swallow.

"Thank you."

"Of course. Now, Sir Auron, what exactly had Jecht told you?"

"That there was an artist in Zanarkand who was never in the same place twice. She painted her dreams and visions. He was the only one who had ever seen your work."

"True," I smiled, averting my eyes. In my dreams, I never saw his face, and I never saw the details of his clothing. Now it was almost too good to be true. He was the man of my dreams, literally, and I just could not get over it.

"And you are the only man that has ever been in my dreams. I've never seen you in the flesh before now."

"Naturally. Though I wonder what your power is."

"Power?" I gazed at him, curious. His features were hardened, his eye had a strange emptiness to it, sadness, worry, despair, but an unerring strength and resolve at the same time.

"I have no power, Sir Auron. If you wish to call them premonitions, then yes. I suppose that might be considered a power. I'm simply curious as to why I am seeing you now when you have been in Zanarkand for nearly seven years."

He scoffed and when he noticed my curious gaze he shook it off with a wave of a hand and stood. He replaced his glasses meticulously and replied that he would be sure to run into me again in the future. As his fabrics swayed with each step I could only think that he was a very strange man.

When he departed and the door clicked shut with a soft jingle of the bell, I shook my head and whispered to the airs: "It cannot be…"

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I could barely sleep for the following few nights, dreaming of him again and again as usual and was finally convinced that I was in love with this dream-turn-reality. I had thought of him for so long, I had these visions of him for so long, that how could it not be possible, even through some psychological mishap, that I was in love?

I dreaded seeing him again, hearing him speak, and wondered if I could manage to keep my voice at a normal pitch and intonation when I spoke to him.

The next time I saw Auron was when I went out wandering one night some days later through the heart of the city. I glimpsed a bit of red darting into a trinket shop. I considered running away, but felt some duty, some obligation perhaps, by some act of fate even, to stay put.

I decided not to follow him in but instead sat at a stool at a vendor and ordered a small drink. I sipped it slowly until I heard him emerge. He paused for a second before he approached and then slipped into the stool beside me. His robes brushed my leg as he positioned himself before he ordered his own cocktail.

"I'm surprised you're giving service to another businessman."

I stared at my drink and replied, "I like to get new ideas."

"With flavored water I see. Yes, very ingenious."

I smirked, looking over at him. He had finished the drink already and stood to pay. He began to talk away so I followed suit and chased after him until I could at least attempt to match his stride.

"Would you care for a walk, Sir Auron? I want to talk to you more."

"I believe we already are, Mae."

I sighed and looked ahead, silent as we both drifted to nowhere for nearly half an hour. Suddenly he stopped in an empty market square and peered over his shoulder at me.

"You have nowhere to go?"

"I left the bar to a coworker, so no. Sir Auron, I only wish to get to know you a bit more. I've had these visions every so often for as long as I can remember, and I am curious if you wish for me to tell you of them."

"No. I'll see the future when I come to it. However, I have business to attend to right now. So if you don't mind, I will take my leave."

Before I could reply he strode off and left me wondering what to do next.

And I wondered why he left me so abruptly. Did he not like me? Why would he initially pursue me then? And why after seven years did he appear so suddenly to me? I shook my head again to dismiss these thoughts and returned home.