Title: Develop
Author: jOO
Rating: R
Slash: Quistis/Rinoa. If you don't like it, leave.
Disclaimer: FF8 is property of Square Enix, as well as the respective characters.
A/N: Whoa. It's been a while. Okay, the characters have been seriously screwed with in this. Like.. they're a lot younger, and basically.. I kinda threw out parts in the game plot line. Okay? If you don't understand it, don't leave a nasty flame. That's just stupid.
Rinoa hit the switch in the dark room, illuminating the room in a bright camine red, just enough to see, but not too much as to ruin her pictures. Photography was her favorite hobby, and an expensive one at that. As she ran her hand along her raven jaw length hair, her diamond earrings caught the light and made a dazzling kaleidscope on the ceiling, dancing across the rough textured tiles. Yes, it was an expensive hobby, but when your father is the mayor of Deling City, money is hardly a concern. The unpredicted transfer to garden was abrupt and almost out of character for the free spirited girl, yet she did it mostly to spite her father, a man who wanted her to be everything she isn't. But, these thoughts do not cross her mind at the moment. The only things that exist to her is herself, and her art. Picking up the rubber-tipped tongs, she plucked the white border of the photograph and raised the image in the air, the chemical solution dripping off of it and splattering in the gray tub, returning to its home. Smiling at the photograph, she held it with the tongs while reaching out with her other hand, grabbing a couple of clips and clipping the edge of it to the string she fashioned from a cabinet to another a semester ago, when she first arrived at Balamb.
Balamb Garden's Art program was fairly new, and students were provided with mediocre facilities, just enough for the safety and health inspectors to let it slide. Inadequate funding, and smaller student enrollment had taken a toll on the Garden, and even though the administration wished to open more doors to students besides war and weaponry, they still were considered a military academy. Nevertheless, Rinoa made due with what she had, and was generally quite happy with it. With a busy schedule and hectic life, the dark room seemed to be her solace amongst never ending chaos. After dipping out the rest of the photos, and hanging them upon the string, she stepped back and smiled slowly to herself. These pictures held no profound meaning, and they weren't intended to enlighten the viewer or give them a deeper realization of who they are. They were only photographs of her friends laughing, her friends horsing around with each other, her friends just being themselves. In the first picture, a young spikey-headed man was laughing while a mouthful of his hotdog skirted the edge of his rose hued lips, daring to just fall out. This young fellow, Zell, had a black outline along his face of a tribal design, and only part of it was filled in. Chuckling, Rinoa recalled the incident in her head - Zell drawing this "uber-cool" tattoo and taking it to a parlor in Deling, only to find out he only had enough gil to tattoo half of it on his skin. The next picture was of Squall, a quiet brown headed boy with crew cut. He was bent forward with a look of distress on his face while a young, spunky girl jumped on his back in a "piggy back" position. Rinoa recognized this girl as Selphie. She wore a bright yellow sun dress, and a weathered leather cowboy hat - although her bright apparel could not even begin to compare with the brightness and energy shown from her face. The next picture was a close up shot of Irvine's lengthy fingers in front of a posed Fujin, Rajin, and Seifer. Leaning her weight on her right foot, she giggled and looked to the last picture. Although the previous images had been those of merriment and fun, the last one was of a frowning Quistis Trepe, a blonde headed young woman who always wore her hair in a perfect bun, and wore everything else perfectly, for that matter. In this photograph, Quistis was staring to the side, her full lips turned into a sloping frown. Her head looked heavy, but not as heavy as her eyes. Parting her lips, Rinoa leaned in closer, admiring the image before her.
Quistis, a name that rolls as quickly as flowing water, yet left a sweet taste behind on one's tongue, and a pair of moist lips that makes one crave more. Quistis was never aware of her seductive nature, she was almost oblivious of it. Rinoa could recall several occasions where she stood by while a boy approached Quistis and blushingly complimented her on her outfit - the thing is, it was Quistis's normal clothing; the same thing she wore practically every day. Quistis just dismissed the kind words with a smile, and didn't think twice about it, whereas, Rinoa was left giggling at her friends' confused expression. Rinoa smiled softly to herself, appreciating Quistis. Appreciating Quistis for not only who she is and what she does, but what she has done and is doing for her. Rinoa's big, brown eyes traveled along the curve of Quistis's neck, and studied each plane upon it. The sheer structure of the simple body part was a work of art in itself, and carried with it the charm of a family heirloom; one that is precious to the sight and touch, but seemingly fragile. Rinoa relished in these thoughts, these thoughts of this perfect shell that cased so many imperfect feelings, and kept them to herself - kind of an unspoken secret between the two that will be aknowledged only by a simple nod, and slight of hand.
The thick red light soon was invaded and violated by a pouring of white light, which soon left with the shut of the door. Steps softly beat on the ground as a pair of leather combat boots pulled it's owner closer and closer to the raven haired girl, who was busily studying a picture of her good friend.
"She looks tired," a soft, female voice spoke.
"She looks beau - Quistis! What are you doing here?" asked Rinoa, quickly widening her eyes at her new company and swallowing quickly with guilt.
"I was on break during classes, and I finished up with work. I was wondering what the artists were up to, so, I stopped by."
"Oh, I see. Er, uhm, these aren't that great. They're just pictures from the picnic the other day," Rinoa stammered, taking a few steps back and waving her hand in front of the pictures, avoiding eye contact with Quistis.
"That's a good one of Zell, " Quistis said while giggling.
Rinoa smiled inwardly to herself. She made a note to take more silly pictures of Zell in the future.
"So, why aren't there any of you?" Quistis asked with playful suspicion.
"Ahh, the photographer does not step in front of the camera," the brown eyed girl quickly replied, bashfully. She blushed, but it was absorbed and consumed by the red light.
"The photographer is camera-shy? How ironic is that," offered Quistis, while a small smirk played on her rose-hued lips.
"Not camera-shy, just shy."
Quistis picked up the camera that was laying on the table. She toyed around with it and played with the lens, focusing in and out while moving a bit closer to Rinoa, taking faux picture of her friend. After giggling at the squirming Rinoa, she inspected the camera more closely, and ran her fingers over the etched letters spelling out her friend's name.
"Rinoa, do you know what your name means?"
"No, I suppose not. I mean, my mom gave it to me. I figured she just made it up."
"It means that you are a person who is deep, who finds love in the arts, and you are extremely sensitive, yet has a shy side. And an incredible love for beauty," Quistis said, choosing her words just right, "So, tell me, Miss Sensitive-Art-Lover, what do you find beautiful?"
"I don't know. Lots of things," Rinoa sputtered out, while her mind screamed, "You!"
A silence filled the room and Rinoa found herself questioning if she had said the word, or just thought it. She inwardly panicked, and hoped, no, prayed for a miracle. She prayed that time would rewind and she'd back in bed where the day was new and she still had a friendship with one of her best friends --
"What.. did you say?"
"Yo..you..th. Youth."
Quistis stepped just a bit closer to Rinoa, her blue eyes slicing through the red light and pounding into her brown, scared eyes. She rolled her breath lightly out of her mouth, watching her friend tremble before her.
"Why?" Quistis asked, speaking as softly as she could possibly manage.
"Uhm.. b-because, you're, like, a work of art. Er, I mean. You're perfect."
Quistis's once icey eyes melted before Rinoa, and soon attacked the raven haired girl with a kiss. But not only a kiss, a deep kiss. A kiss where you can feel your soul stretch it's muscles and mingle with another, and return to it's home - satisfied. It was the kind of kiss that was saturated with the passion you only find in movies, or sappy love novels. It was the kiss that changes lives.
Rinoa and Quistis stood still after the kiss was broken, barely inches from each others lips as they breathed warmly in unison, mentally going over what had just happened.
"Er, uhm, well.. About these prints, they'll be done in a while, so. I'll make doubles if you want?" Rinoa quickly said, jerking her head to the side, nervously trying to make conversation.
"Rinoa."
"It'd be no trouble at all, really. All I'd have to do is prepare some acids and get some of that film paper - oh, what's it called, I swear my instructor just said the name yesterday."
"Rinoa."
"And I could make a frame if you want. Unless you want a metal frame, then I'd have to buy it because I haven't had metalsmithing yet - but, buying it wouldn't be a big deal, really. They're just a few gil."
Quistis swiftly grabbed Rinoa's jaw with the movements of a person trained in the martial arts, and kissed her harder, pressing her lips against the other girls. Her tongue rolled quickly into Rinoa's mouth, sliding over the rough tastebuds and filling the younger girl, trying to taste as much as she could in an instant.
"Whoa," Rinoa murmured, her eyes half shut while her lips bumped against Quistis'.
"What do you want, Rinoa?" Quistis whispered, the words dripping out, trickling down her lips, only to be caught by the lips of the dark haired girl - intoxicating her.
"Oh hyne, Quisty. Oh fucking hyne," Rinoa breathily whispered, her lips bumping into Quistis'.
Almost tackling Rinoa, Quistis moved forward harshly, pressing her friend, no, her lover into the wall. Their lips fought fiercely, one battle in this erotic war, and one fought valiantly. Their tongues entwined as Rinoa's hand slid over Quistis' pale, perfect stomach, snaking a warm path underneath her clothing. The two remained like that for a few long moments - moments well spent in kisses and they slowly slid down the wall, their knees weakening. A sweet mixture of skin, tan melting into pale. Heightened voices echo slowly as the couple thrusts against each other, exploring foriegn lands, conquering each other for themselves. Thin, pink, swollen lips engulfing the milky skin, crevices so beautifully crafted on each other's body, all becoming embedded into their youthful minds. And their souls finally find each other, joining one another in this long, beautiful dance; this dance that momentarily immortalizes one another. And they are both finally whole, and one.
Rinoa slowly rose her arm, grabbing the the thread chord of the polaroid camera, and watched her sleeping partner -- no, her sleeping lover, and took a snapshot of them laying together, naked, warm, and complete, and placed the image in Quistis' limp hand, and whispered softly, "Quistis, I want you."
Rinoa hit the switch in the dark room, illuminating the room in a bright camine red, just enough to see, but not too much as to ruin her pictures. Photography was her favorite hobby, and an expensive one at that. As she ran her hand along her raven jaw length hair, her diamond earrings caught the light and made a dazzling kaleidscope on the ceiling, dancing across the rough textured tiles. Yes, it was an expensive hobby, but when your father is the mayor of Deling City, money is hardly a concern. The unpredicted transfer to garden was abrupt and almost out of character for the free spirited girl, yet she did it mostly to spite her father, a man who wanted her to be everything she isn't. But, these thoughts do not cross her mind at the moment. The only things that exist to her is herself, and her art. Picking up the rubber-tipped tongs, she plucked the white border of the photograph and raised the image in the air, the chemical solution dripping off of it and splattering in the gray tub, returning to its home. Smiling at the photograph, she held it with the tongs while reaching out with her other hand, grabbing a couple of clips and clipping the edge of it to the string she fashioned from a cabinet to another a semester ago, when she first arrived at Balamb.
Balamb Garden's Art program was fairly new, and students were provided with mediocre facilities, just enough for the safety and health inspectors to let it slide. Inadequate funding, and smaller student enrollment had taken a toll on the Garden, and even though the administration wished to open more doors to students besides war and weaponry, they still were considered a military academy. Nevertheless, Rinoa made due with what she had, and was generally quite happy with it. With a busy schedule and hectic life, the dark room seemed to be her solace amongst never ending chaos. After dipping out the rest of the photos, and hanging them upon the string, she stepped back and smiled slowly to herself. These pictures held no profound meaning, and they weren't intended to enlighten the viewer or give them a deeper realization of who they are. They were only photographs of her friends laughing, her friends horsing around with each other, her friends just being themselves. In the first picture, a young spikey-headed man was laughing while a mouthful of his hotdog skirted the edge of his rose hued lips, daring to just fall out. This young fellow, Zell, had a black outline along his face of a tribal design, and only part of it was filled in. Chuckling, Rinoa recalled the incident in her head - Zell drawing this "uber-cool" tattoo and taking it to a parlor in Deling, only to find out he only had enough gil to tattoo half of it on his skin. The next picture was of Squall, a quiet brown headed boy with crew cut. He was bent forward with a look of distress on his face while a young, spunky girl jumped on his back in a "piggy back" position. Rinoa recognized this girl as Selphie. She wore a bright yellow sun dress, and a weathered leather cowboy hat - although her bright apparel could not even begin to compare with the brightness and energy shown from her face. The next picture was a close up shot of Irvine's lengthy fingers in front of a posed Fujin, Rajin, and Seifer. Leaning her weight on her right foot, she giggled and looked to the last picture. Although the previous images had been those of merriment and fun, the last one was of a frowning Quistis Trepe, a blonde headed young woman who always wore her hair in a perfect bun, and wore everything else perfectly, for that matter. In this photograph, Quistis was staring to the side, her full lips turned into a sloping frown. Her head looked heavy, but not as heavy as her eyes. Parting her lips, Rinoa leaned in closer, admiring the image before her.
Quistis, a name that rolls as quickly as flowing water, yet left a sweet taste behind on one's tongue, and a pair of moist lips that makes one crave more. Quistis was never aware of her seductive nature, she was almost oblivious of it. Rinoa could recall several occasions where she stood by while a boy approached Quistis and blushingly complimented her on her outfit - the thing is, it was Quistis's normal clothing; the same thing she wore practically every day. Quistis just dismissed the kind words with a smile, and didn't think twice about it, whereas, Rinoa was left giggling at her friends' confused expression. Rinoa smiled softly to herself, appreciating Quistis. Appreciating Quistis for not only who she is and what she does, but what she has done and is doing for her. Rinoa's big, brown eyes traveled along the curve of Quistis's neck, and studied each plane upon it. The sheer structure of the simple body part was a work of art in itself, and carried with it the charm of a family heirloom; one that is precious to the sight and touch, but seemingly fragile. Rinoa relished in these thoughts, these thoughts of this perfect shell that cased so many imperfect feelings, and kept them to herself - kind of an unspoken secret between the two that will be aknowledged only by a simple nod, and slight of hand.
The thick red light soon was invaded and violated by a pouring of white light, which soon left with the shut of the door. Steps softly beat on the ground as a pair of leather combat boots pulled it's owner closer and closer to the raven haired girl, who was busily studying a picture of her good friend.
"She looks tired," a soft, female voice spoke.
"She looks beau - Quistis! What are you doing here?" asked Rinoa, quickly widening her eyes at her new company and swallowing quickly with guilt.
"I was on break during classes, and I finished up with work. I was wondering what the artists were up to, so, I stopped by."
"Oh, I see. Er, uhm, these aren't that great. They're just pictures from the picnic the other day," Rinoa stammered, taking a few steps back and waving her hand in front of the pictures, avoiding eye contact with Quistis.
"That's a good one of Zell, " Quistis said while giggling.
Rinoa smiled inwardly to herself. She made a note to take more silly pictures of Zell in the future.
"So, why aren't there any of you?" Quistis asked with playful suspicion.
"Ahh, the photographer does not step in front of the camera," the brown eyed girl quickly replied, bashfully. She blushed, but it was absorbed and consumed by the red light.
"The photographer is camera-shy? How ironic is that," offered Quistis, while a small smirk played on her rose-hued lips.
"Not camera-shy, just shy."
Quistis picked up the camera that was laying on the table. She toyed around with it and played with the lens, focusing in and out while moving a bit closer to Rinoa, taking faux picture of her friend. After giggling at the squirming Rinoa, she inspected the camera more closely, and ran her fingers over the etched letters spelling out her friend's name.
"Rinoa, do you know what your name means?"
"No, I suppose not. I mean, my mom gave it to me. I figured she just made it up."
"It means that you are a person who is deep, who finds love in the arts, and you are extremely sensitive, yet has a shy side. And an incredible love for beauty," Quistis said, choosing her words just right, "So, tell me, Miss Sensitive-Art-Lover, what do you find beautiful?"
"I don't know. Lots of things," Rinoa sputtered out, while her mind screamed, "You!"
A silence filled the room and Rinoa found herself questioning if she had said the word, or just thought it. She inwardly panicked, and hoped, no, prayed for a miracle. She prayed that time would rewind and she'd back in bed where the day was new and she still had a friendship with one of her best friends --
"What.. did you say?"
"Yo..you..th. Youth."
Quistis stepped just a bit closer to Rinoa, her blue eyes slicing through the red light and pounding into her brown, scared eyes. She rolled her breath lightly out of her mouth, watching her friend tremble before her.
"Why?" Quistis asked, speaking as softly as she could possibly manage.
"Uhm.. b-because, you're, like, a work of art. Er, I mean. You're perfect."
Quistis's once icey eyes melted before Rinoa, and soon attacked the raven haired girl with a kiss. But not only a kiss, a deep kiss. A kiss where you can feel your soul stretch it's muscles and mingle with another, and return to it's home - satisfied. It was the kind of kiss that was saturated with the passion you only find in movies, or sappy love novels. It was the kiss that changes lives.
Rinoa and Quistis stood still after the kiss was broken, barely inches from each others lips as they breathed warmly in unison, mentally going over what had just happened.
"Er, uhm, well.. About these prints, they'll be done in a while, so. I'll make doubles if you want?" Rinoa quickly said, jerking her head to the side, nervously trying to make conversation.
"Rinoa."
"It'd be no trouble at all, really. All I'd have to do is prepare some acids and get some of that film paper - oh, what's it called, I swear my instructor just said the name yesterday."
"Rinoa."
"And I could make a frame if you want. Unless you want a metal frame, then I'd have to buy it because I haven't had metalsmithing yet - but, buying it wouldn't be a big deal, really. They're just a few gil."
Quistis swiftly grabbed Rinoa's jaw with the movements of a person trained in the martial arts, and kissed her harder, pressing her lips against the other girls. Her tongue rolled quickly into Rinoa's mouth, sliding over the rough tastebuds and filling the younger girl, trying to taste as much as she could in an instant.
"Whoa," Rinoa murmured, her eyes half shut while her lips bumped against Quistis'.
"What do you want, Rinoa?" Quistis whispered, the words dripping out, trickling down her lips, only to be caught by the lips of the dark haired girl - intoxicating her.
"Oh hyne, Quisty. Oh fucking hyne," Rinoa breathily whispered, her lips bumping into Quistis'.
Almost tackling Rinoa, Quistis moved forward harshly, pressing her friend, no, her lover into the wall. Their lips fought fiercely, one battle in this erotic war, and one fought valiantly. Their tongues entwined as Rinoa's hand slid over Quistis' pale, perfect stomach, snaking a warm path underneath her clothing. The two remained like that for a few long moments - moments well spent in kisses and they slowly slid down the wall, their knees weakening. A sweet mixture of skin, tan melting into pale. Heightened voices echo slowly as the couple thrusts against each other, exploring foriegn lands, conquering each other for themselves. Thin, pink, swollen lips engulfing the milky skin, crevices so beautifully crafted on each other's body, all becoming embedded into their youthful minds. And their souls finally find each other, joining one another in this long, beautiful dance; this dance that momentarily immortalizes one another. And they are both finally whole, and one.
Rinoa slowly rose her arm, grabbing the the thread chord of the polaroid camera, and watched her sleeping partner -- no, her sleeping lover, and took a snapshot of them laying together, naked, warm, and complete, and placed the image in Quistis' limp hand, and whispered softly, "Quistis, I want you."