The wind was tearing through the night sky in a sharp howl, although it wasn't nearly as loud beneath the blankets that he had pulled up over his head as it was when he had been sitting by the window only moments before. The lights in the room had gone out long ago from the violent storm, and the candlelight flickered in a fire demon's dance about the room, casting shadows along the wooden walls. Shadow demons dancing a ballet on wood grain – he didn't want to watch their performance longer than necessary, and he ducked beneath his pillow, curling in on himself.
Truth be told, he wasn't afraid of the dark. He had been, when he was younger – however, he was seven years old now, and, therefore, the darkness wasn't something to be feared. The darkness was actually comfortable to him. He enjoyed it, when he was lying in bed, staring at the little glowing stars on his ceiling, caught up in thoughts of that day's princesses he had rescued and the knighthood to which he had been appointed.
As it was now, however, he wished the lights would turn back on. The power outage that had struck his home had plunged him into such a deep state of darkness that he was beginning to feel less like a knight and more like a peasant, in the castle-design of his room. Shivers crept down his spine, making him squirm, and he hid his head, like one of those big birds sis had been reading about the other day in that oversized book of hers, beneath the pillows of his bead, curled up like he always was and huddling against his own body heat as he normally did.
He understood why they did it – it made it safer, a little less menacing, and he could pretend that the power wasn't out and that the storm wasn't really there when the soft, feather pillow covered him.
It wasn't that he feared thunderstorms, either. He actually loved thunderstorms, loved watching them and listening to them and thinking about them, and he loved hearing the rain fall down on the stone roof of the orphanage or make the sea outside crash against the rocks in nature's beat.
It was the combination of it all – all of the darkness and the silence and the thunderstorms – that made him fearful.
"Are ya scared?"
Seifer's voice came from somewhere to his side, out of the darkness, and, had he had enough bravery, he would have turned to face him; instead, however, he only shook his head under the blankets, knowing that his friend would catch the gesture, anyway.
"Nu-uh. 'Course I'm not scared." He mumbled it out from beneath the covers, and he doubted the other boy could hear him, but he didn't care enough to face the storm so he could be heard. "Why would I be afraid of a stupid little storm, anyway?"
"Dunno. Just 'cause that's how you are."
The bed creaked beside him, and before he could do anything, he found someone pulling back the blankets on his bed, exposing him to the darkness, candlelight, and the crack of lightning and thunder that danced around his room. Startled, he reached for the sheets, only to have them snatched right back from his grasp.
"Ya can't be scared forever. Come on – I'll keep ya safe."
Finding it hard to believe, the boy wrapped his arms around his pillow, little baby-blue eyes narrowing to glare into sea-glass green.
"'M not scared." His voice was muffled behind the pillow as he spoke, but that didn't matter at all, because the other both just reached over and ruffled his hair, chocolate brown strands falling in front of his eyes and obscuring his view of the room, as if he hadn't been cowering behind the thing in the first place. Small lips curled into a pout – although he would maintain that it was a frown and not a pout – and he shook his head to right the tangle of hair that had fallen before his eyes.
"Look. I brought ya another candle, and this flashlight that Sis had sittin' out in case of this kinda thing." To emphasize his point, the boy flicked on the light, a beam of golden-yellow luminance instantly slicing through the darkness of the room, creating a little path of solace for him to stare down. "See? That's a lot better, ain't it?"
"'Guess so." Seifer laughed, bright and cheerful, and once again reached out to toy with his hair, his slightly bigger hand making short work of the knots and only adding to the fluff that his head had become. He struggled to set it right, but found that his efforts were in vain in the end, and before he could put up much of an argument, the older boy had slipped into his bed at his side, face lit up in a bright grin and flashlight held to his chest.
"Gonna go to sleep now?" He nodded, and slipped beneath the covers himself, curling up against the light and against the other boy's side, knowing that here, he would be safe from the storm and the darkness that was raging on outside, trying to get in.
Seifer handed him the flashlight with that smile still on his face. "There. You can hold it – that way you can make sure it doesn't go out or somethin'. But you gotta do the monster-checking tonight." The blonde paused, a single eyebrow arched up in question – how did he do that, anyway? – and he leaned closer, looking intently at his face, prying in. "You sure you're not scared?"
He really didn't feel as scared, now that the beam of light had created that little pathway for him to watch and direct as he pleased. He didn't feel as uncertain any more, and the demons that danced along the walls, the Shadows, yelped and fled from the light that was glowing in his hands, terrified of the gold. He felt secure, safe, and he didn't even care that the storm was kicking in even more outside.
"'Course I'm sure."
He seemed content with this, and he rolled over, back facing Squall and leaving him with something warm and soft to curl up against. He did feel safe, with Seifer there and with the flashlight clutched between his hands – it was soothing to know that someone was there for him and that he had his own weapon against the darkness.
He felt like he could take on anything.
"Good, 'cause Sis said there's another storm comin' this way."