All that mattered was beside him....
... right?
He loved his wife and their daughter ....
... didn't he?
Little Torrent was the apple of his eye with her carefree smiles, especially when she sat in the middle of a mess, her face covered in chocolate and cheerios stuck in her hair. Or when she was dressed up all nice, in her little lace blue dress, trying so hard not to get it dirty while she knelt in the middle of the garden and did her prayers to the powers.
Yes, no doubt, he loved Torrent.
But did he love his wife?
He liked her .... hair.... what color were her eyes again? Oh... yes... deep brown, like Torrent's, beautiful brown, how could he forget? They'd been married... how many years again? ... too long... But he wouldn't end it now.. not for a vision... not for something that wasn't his to keep.
He forced himself to lie each day, because every moment he closed his eyes, he saw eyes so blue they were almost green, cynical and somehow sad. Aloof and lonely. He saw rslicked back blond hair and a line of pink puckered skin that he wanted to kiss. The scar was always an improvement... a sign.
And remembering that boy standing so proud, the last time he thought he'd seen him, he knew he'd never find anything more beautiful in the world. Or thought he had...
But chocolate faces and cheerio hair kept him domesticated, kept him in his cage while the outside world taunted him with rainbows and sunny days. He had Torrent, and someday, she'd be grown up enough that he could leave... he could leave and take her with.
Maybe he'd go after eyes so blue they were almost green?
And a thousand miles away, laying in a broken down bed that was borrowed for the night, eyes so blue they were almost green looked up at his ceiling, a finger touching his scar.... and wondering.... wondering how his mirror image was... how his rival was...
And as his stand of the night stirred and started caressing and teasing him into the weak pleasures of the flesh he could find here, he closed his eyes and pretended for one whole second that blue eyes were staring into his... blue eyes that were seperated by one line of pink puckered skin...
No, I don't own FFVIII, but I love the characters and... this.. might only be the beginning for such sweet one shot-ness. Anyways, that's it for now.
... right?
He loved his wife and their daughter ....
... didn't he?
Little Torrent was the apple of his eye with her carefree smiles, especially when she sat in the middle of a mess, her face covered in chocolate and cheerios stuck in her hair. Or when she was dressed up all nice, in her little lace blue dress, trying so hard not to get it dirty while she knelt in the middle of the garden and did her prayers to the powers.
Yes, no doubt, he loved Torrent.
But did he love his wife?
He liked her .... hair.... what color were her eyes again? Oh... yes... deep brown, like Torrent's, beautiful brown, how could he forget? They'd been married... how many years again? ... too long... But he wouldn't end it now.. not for a vision... not for something that wasn't his to keep.
He forced himself to lie each day, because every moment he closed his eyes, he saw eyes so blue they were almost green, cynical and somehow sad. Aloof and lonely. He saw rslicked back blond hair and a line of pink puckered skin that he wanted to kiss. The scar was always an improvement... a sign.
And remembering that boy standing so proud, the last time he thought he'd seen him, he knew he'd never find anything more beautiful in the world. Or thought he had...
But chocolate faces and cheerio hair kept him domesticated, kept him in his cage while the outside world taunted him with rainbows and sunny days. He had Torrent, and someday, she'd be grown up enough that he could leave... he could leave and take her with.
Maybe he'd go after eyes so blue they were almost green?
And a thousand miles away, laying in a broken down bed that was borrowed for the night, eyes so blue they were almost green looked up at his ceiling, a finger touching his scar.... and wondering.... wondering how his mirror image was... how his rival was...
And as his stand of the night stirred and started caressing and teasing him into the weak pleasures of the flesh he could find here, he closed his eyes and pretended for one whole second that blue eyes were staring into his... blue eyes that were seperated by one line of pink puckered skin...
No, I don't own FFVIII, but I love the characters and... this.. might only be the beginning for such sweet one shot-ness. Anyways, that's it for now.