Disclaimer: I still don't own Final Fantasy VIII, or the characters, but I own this story!
Notes: Yes, my friends, what you've been waiting for! (I think?) The sequel to "Trickle". I got this idea from a fan, so…here you go, seen from Seifer's eyes. Please review, and let me know what you think. Is it worth continuing? ("Daystar" will be put on hold.) Sorry! ^_^
Downpour
By Joydrop.2O
Time: 5:13 p.m.
Location: Balamb
Date: December 2, 2000
The wind takes us high. It makes us float, we feel free. Winter air delivers what only Gods and Goddesses should handle. But no, we have it. We can take it. The air is cold, the air is fine, and I can see her smiling at me. Oh, how confusing life is. To go from looking at days with cruel, brutal eyes, to living a live only few get to live. Her touch burns through the icy atmosphere, but gently warms me up. Ah yes, now I know. This is what it feels like to be alive. We're flying.
She laughs, and we laugh. The buried sun still finds her skin, and reflects rays of light. The once damp and snow infested world is now aglow. Beaming her beauty. I sway with the universe in the light she sheds, and she moves with me. We dance.
A rare liquid wasted on me. I contaminate her, but she feels good. All hope is lost, but I know she can make it. Once hidden, she found me. Once heartless, she loved me. Once dying, she revived me. How do I return the favor?
"I'm cold."
She shivers, and I melt. Words from her have an affect on me. Anything she says. I can take on the world; I can die under its crust. I can swim forever; I can drown in seconds. I gently touch her, and she sighs.
"We're almost there, we can turn back if you want."
Walking over the powdery ice, we hear the gentle squishing beneath our feet and my own voice. Daylight is almost wasted, but she provides the light. She doesn't want to swim in these impurities, the extra layer of discomfort that I covered her with. I'm to blame. I will heal her.
"No, we can't turn back. This hospital has to have what we need."
We walk in silence, and it's all I need. Her white, cloudy breath swarms me, and I don't mind. I inhale it in mouthfuls. She's now inside of me. Her shoulders move under my arm, her fingers limply dangle from her hands. Her skin awakens me. She's trying to keep warm. I don't blame her. Balamb is famous for it's frigid winters. Naked trees surround us. The branches, dark and twisted hold down the flawless snow. It's me. I'm holding down Quistis. Vagrant and bent, hanging onto stable perfection. I cover my eyes in disgust.
"Is your nose cold too? Yeah, it's so embarrassing. I turn apple-cheeked so easily."
No darling, my nose isn't cold. I glance over at her. Her cheeks stained a light pink color, her nose a darker pink. The colors seem to blend in with her outfit. If she were warm, she'd be pale. White as the frost that clings to nearby car windshields. It's beautiful though. Sheer delicacy.
Passing the open shops, I see customers look at me through the glass and quickly look away. They fear me, they still do. I don't blame them. I don't mind. Their words are so useless, mediocre. What they have to say has already been said. It only matters what Quistis thinks. If she fears me, if she hates me, I'd fall to her feet. Beg for forgiveness, change who I am. Her thoughts are the only thing I listen to. They gasp when they see her under my arms. I offer them a twisted, confusing smile, unsure what I look like. Yes, believe it onlookers, Seifer Almasy was able to capture magnificence.
"I hope we get there soon, I don't think I can walk anymore. My feet are frozen."
"Of course you can still walk. You've been in worse positions."
She cocks her head to the side.
"I suppose you're right."
The faded green sign that reads "You're now exiting Balamb " lay behind us. Fields of ice encircle our bodies, covering dead grass. The walk to this certain place is going to be a long, hard walk. We were told there was something there to help her, maybe not cure her right away…but make the remains of my pain disappear for awhile. It's worth it. The air bites beneath our clothing. She flinches, but I don't. The wind takes me high; it makes me float. It makes me free.