"It is to the credit of human nature, that, except where its selfishness is brought into play, it loves more readily than it hates. Hatred, by a gradual and quiet process, will even be transformed to love…" – Nathaniel Hawthorn, The Scarlet Letter
Iris
Quistis removed her glasses and blinked a few times, leaning back against the couch with a sigh. She had forgotten how much work being an Instructor really was. All this grading and rereading SeeD manuals for the thousandth time made her long for the days when she freely roamed the world, good friends at her side and their troubled pasts behind them. Still, she had what she always wanted, and that was an anchored place in the world. They were all at Garden now, and just a few doors down when she needed to reach out again. Nothing had really changed.
Stretching, wincing as her elbows cracked, she set the red pen down and flexed her fingers a few times. Quistis was rarely ever this relaxed, alone or in company. Her boots, gloves, and socks were discarded on the floor, her tie loosened and cuffs undone. The television blared, turned to a stupid sitcom that she never really watched and yet knew everything about. Papers littered the couch, the coffee table, and there were books haphazardly dangling from every surface imaginable. In short, she and her dorm were a mess, and if anyone saw, it would mean utter disgrace. After such a long day, she reasoned, it was her right to enjoy an easy tranquility. With everyone stressing out about the upcoming SeeD exams…
She passed a hand over her face. The SeeD exams. Irvine was taking his this time; they had never seen him so serious. Rather than finding him strolling through the hallways with Selphie, these days he could always be located in the library reading, hat pulled down over his brow with his tongue between his teeth. There were some new takers, trembling with worry as the day grew closer, and some who'd taken the test several times, persevering harder than ever. Then, she thought with a little crease in her forehead, there was the one name many instructors thought they would never see on the roster again. That boy (though it was hardly her right to call him as such), who had run first Garden, then a country with an iron fist, stayed after her class every day to study for the same exam he'd failed thrice. The man, who thought he would never receive a second chance, would check out books from the library and struggle through them after hours rather than face public humiliation.
He would pass this time. Quistis was sure of it. For at least two months now, he had tried so hard to learn. They both knew he had no head for taking commands, and he was more of the sort to jump into something rather than recite protocol and follow orders to the book. When he grew frustrated, which was often, his temper would flare and he would throw the book down. "I'm no Leonhart," he would say, and storm off in a huff.
But he always came back. He would sit down, cross his legs, and look at her expectantly until she asked him a question.
Seifer had changed so much. He had evolved from that troubled, angry child to a strong and (somewhat) civilized man. He did lose his temper, something that he still had trouble controlling, and though he still called people names, she knew he worked at it. The person who had leapt into becoming Ultimecia's knight was no longer the person who sat in class and made an effort to pay attention.
Quistis started, shaking her head and looking back down at her lap. Here she was, with mountains of work right in front of her, and she was thinking about Seifer. Seifer, of all people. She had better things to do than sit there and contemplate him.
"Hey, you in there?" She jumped at the voice and turned towards the door, unsettling some things and sending them tumbling down to the ground. It was probably Irvine, come to ask some questions about the exam, or even just for a friendly chat. Reassured, as he and the others had seen her at her absolute worst (wandering around a dead lake looking for an invisible city was not the thing to do while on your period), she tucked some hair behind her ears and settled onto the cushions again.
"It's open." Quistis switched the television to the news hastily, picking up some of the papers around and organizing them into a tidy stack. There was a clank of something being set by the door, and heavy footsteps crossed the room until they ceased right behind her. She knew, even if just from the way he walked, that it was not Irvine.
"I saw that, Instructor." It was Seifer, leaning against the back of her couch in a weary sort of way. His eyelids drooped drastically, heavy with exhaustion. Still, he managed to give her a small smile. "I never thought you watched junk like that."
"I don't," she said, suddenly aware of just how disheveled she was. He must have thought her a wreck, not to mention her terrible room. "It was just on." Seifer snorted, though not unkindly, and leaned over a little further. Surely, he had been in the library until recently, because he smelled like the must from shelves and poorly thumbed books.
"You grading papers?" She nodded. He grinned again. "Got any time for your favorite student?"
"Why not?" she said, and cleared a few more papers off the cushion next to hers. Usually, he probably would have made a show of leaping over the back of the couch and jostling everything, just to be his typical self, but tonight he made his way around and sank down with a deep sigh. "You seem tired." Seifer nodded, rubbing his eyes.
"Rough day," he said, draping his arms on the back of the couch and crossing his legs. "Everybody and their grandma picked today to rag on me." Quistis nodded sagely, wriggling her bare feet a little. She felt rather ridiculous, but Seifer didn't seem to have noticed her state of… well, distress. She wouldn't bring it up.
"The SeeD exams are stressful for everyone – we're all worked up right now."
"I held my temper – thought you'd be pleased to hear that." He chuckled, seeing her lips twitch up a little, and shrugged. "It's getting easier, I guess. Anyway, didn't come here to chat." Quistis raised an eyebrow. "I want you to quiz me. Been practicing real hard lately, and I think I've got it."
"Really?" Quistis stood, flipping books over and looking for a particular handbook. Seifer tilted his head back and closed his eyes, breathing so evenly that she thought he might have fallen asleep. When she headed back to the couch, though, he sat up again and dully stared at the television screen. "I won't go easy on you, Seifer." That caught his attention, and he grinned at her as she sat down beside him again.
"I doubt that somehow, Instructor." She shot him a glare, not that fierce and not that piercing, but he chortled and waited patiently for her to pick a question. Through tired eyes, he looked her up and down, and then glanced around her at the rest of the room. This was so very different from the stiff and sturdy Quistis they saw every day in the classroom, or anywhere, really. He doubted anyone had seen her so relaxed…
The Ice Queen wasn't really frozen all the way through after all. What a strange revelation.
"Are you ready?" Quistis stared at him over the book, an eyebrow raised, and he waved a hand for her to begin. Yes, he was ready. She would not be disappointed after all this time. "How many elemental attributes are there?"
"Eight." She glanced down at the book, nodded, and turned the page. That was right. Seifer was right.
"Is there a limit to how much magic you can draw from monsters?"
"No."
"True or false: the spell Bio weakens the target's cell structure to make the body more vulnerable."
"False." Her hair was falling into her face, escaping its up-do, and her glasses slipped down her nose. With a small sigh, she pushed them back up and drew her legs closer, settling into herself.
"Does the magic Dispel cure poison?" Their eyes met, emerald colliding with frigid blue. Maybe he was tired, or maybe he was crazy, but Seifer could not bring himself to look away. She was captivating, for all the same reasons that he used to loathe her and many others. All he wanted to do was reach out and touch her, to see if she would break like a china doll. "Seifer?" He half-wondered what she might think if he casually observed these things out loud. However, he was Seifer, and Seifer never told anyone – anyone – how he felt. Not even Rai and Fuuj. "What's wrong? Are you all right?"
Screw it. "Cute." Quistis stared at him, hard. So much for casual observation. He felt his head bob around, and he knew pass out right on her couch if he didn't move around soon, but right now he couldn't care less. All he saw and knew was the look of absolute surprise on her face. "Real cute." He scooted a little closer to her, just a fraction of an inch away from touching her fragile hand. "It's like you're really a real person." Her face fell, and he knew he had said the wrong thing – as usual. Why couldn't the shit he made up in his head come out right?
"…You really are tired. I can quiz you tomorrow. You should go to bed." Quistis made to stand up and show him to the door, but Seifer grabbed her wrist and pulled her back. She nearly fell on top of him, and only just managed to redirect herself onto the couch. He was right next to her, closer than they had ever been to each other before, and he made sure she looked at him.
"You know what I meant. And I really did mean it."
"No, Seifer, I don't know." He groaned and let his head fall forward, nearly touching her shoulder. She stared. This… this was Seifer… Seifer! Seifer, who used to stomp through hallways and tip stacks of books out of girls' arms! Seifer, who everyone knew never actually cared, and always had some sort of witty comment reserved for anyone who thought otherwise! Seifer, who… wasn't Seifer anymore. Not the old Seifer, anyway. This Seifer was tongue-tied, careful, and honest… Could he have changed this much in so short a time?
"Hyne, Quisty…" Seifer looked up at her again, and she couldn't get over how close he was. Their faces were barely inches apart, something unsettling and yet… compelling. So many thoughts raced through her head at once that she couldn't keep up, and she barely heard Seifer over their roar. "You don't look like an instructor right now. You look like Quistis Trepe, the nineteen-year-old."
"Oh?" she managed, barely squeaking out a whisper. He hummed, reached up, and gently took a clump of her hair between two fingers. His face was almost reverent, bewildered at her allowance of such close contact. Quistis had to swallow before she could speak again. "Is there a difference?"
"Yeah. Instructor Trepe's cold, distant, and perfect. Quistis Trepe's loose, comfortable… an organized mess, just like everybody else." The television blared loud as thunder in the ensuing silence, and only a Quistis expert would see the subtle change in her face that betrayed dismay.
"I'm sorry. I can't stop being an instructor, Seifer," she said, looking away and biting the inside of her lip. "Nor can I stop being myself. I won't become one or the other to keep you happy."
"Then don't be either of them." His hand slowly moved from her hair to her cheek, finally grazing her porcelain skin. She did not break, and she did not crack, but she did start to cry. With a rarely seen smile, enough to light a fire somewhere in her heart, he brushed the tears away with his thumb. "Be my Quisty."
Quistis had often imagined her first kiss when she was younger, waiting desperately for the right person to stroll up, sweep her off her feet, and smooch her romantically as the sun set behind them – just like her private collection of tacky romance novels. At that time, the right person was the absolute wrong person, but each different scenario was still clear: a passionate kiss under the starlight; a careful, questioning kiss in the hallway. Ironically, she had never dreamed anything this particular, this… this real.
She also would never have imagined kissing Seifer. Well… that wasn't the whole truth, but again, this was not the Seifer she would have expected. At first, he was content to simply touch her face, but after a moment, he stretched his other arm behind her back and held her close. He wasn't demanding, or rough, or impatient… a different Seifer. A changed Seifer. A Seifer she could no longer predict, a Seifer she no longer understood… and that scared her. She could only hope it scared him, too.
When he pulled away, still keeping her near his chest with a firm yet gentle grip, he smiled blearily and suppressed a yawn. Despite herself, Quistis chuckled a little – and was surprised to feel it escalate into full-blown laughter. Seifer looked at her almost hurtfully, that same old frown creasing his brow before she leaned in and kissed him again, some strange elation making her giddy as… well, as a schoolgirl. As a teenager.
Not too long a time later, the television was playing her silly little sitcom again, and filled the room with the sound of studio-audience laughter. Quistis was once more grading papers, perhaps only a little more disheveled than she had been before (but for much more pleasant reasons). Tucked snugly under Seifer's arm, she graciously let him sleep while she worked at the pace of his steady breathing. For once, Quistis was not questioning herself about what would happen tomorrow, or what the consequences of her actions would be. Just this once, she would be impulsive, rash, and to hell with what anyone else thought. This felt right.
Again, Quistis laughed, almost too quiet for even her to hear. Were he awake, there was no doubt that Seifer would be proud of her.
Author's Notes: I had problems with this the last time I uploaded a Seifer/Quistis story. Thusly, I'm addressing this right here and now. This takes place in the future, one might say, of Final Fantasy VIII. The war is long since over, Seifer has returned to Garden with the hopes of becoming a SeeD after all, and has gone through a great transformation through the assistance of all our heroes, though mostly Quistis and Rinoa. A lot of the stories revolving around Seifer and Quistis, fluff-riddled or not, involve him being abrasive, and rude, and basically the Seifer everyone loves. Heck, I love that Seifer myself, but I loved his smile at the end of the game more – I loved the awesome potential he had to completely turn himself around. So, in my eyes, he wasn't being "OOC" in this story – he was being a new, much more honest and loving version of himself. Sure, I like to imagine that he still possesses some of his original personality, but it appears only in playful form, or when he's really angry or passionate about something.
That was longer than I intended it to be. I apologize. But it's better to bring it up now than to drive myself crazy over reviewers telling me I "was wrong." Trust me. I knew what I was writing.
Anyway, today's particular inspiration came from an episode of "Brothers & Sisters" – that drama on ABC? The mother of the "brothers & sisters" had a new boyfriend, and there was a rather touching scene where he joined her in her bedroom, held up pleasant conversation for all of thirty seconds, and then passed out on her shoulder. That display of affection stuck with me, and after a long process, this was birthed from it. I took the title from an exceedingly popular song of the same title that I rather think would apply to both Quistis and Seifer, upon close inspection.
All right. Now I'm done.