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Only waiting

A Final Fantasy VIII fan fiction

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Disclaimers: Final Fantasy is a property of Squaresoft. I suck at writing so please R/R

Seifer stood at the tower again, thinking. He had not expected Squall's question yesterday morning, and now that his headache from the hangover had finally cleared, he felt up to thinking again.

"You'd really wear that yellow dress for me?"

What did Squall mean by such a question? Was he just teasing? Or did it mean he actually had a chance, a small one, but still, a chance. Of course, that meant dressing up in a dress, which he didn't want to do now that alcohol was not running through his system...He shook his head, staring at the girls in a group, playing volleyball. Rinoa got the ball from Selphie, and was serving it to Quistis. They looked so jolly cheerful, and it annoyed him, Rinoa especially. He hated it whenever she was happy, because she 'clapp'd her hands in delight', just like in trashy romance novels. He never cared for the cheerful type much. They were too hyperactive for him.

"What?" He heard someone ask. Squall, for the first time, was the one who initiated the conversation. Seifer looked back at him, surprised at finding him there. He hadn't heard anyone come up. He wasn't paying much attention.

"What are you doing here? Rinoa's down there. Why aren't you with her?" He turned away, looking down again at the girls. Zell and Irvine had joined them. Squall stood beside him, looking down at them as well.

He cleared his throat, thinking of apologizing for all he said last night. "Uh, Squall?"

"... ..." Squall looked at him, his face calm. Pretty boy poker face, he remembered calling it. He flushed. How did he get the guts to say that? He was lucky he didn't end up with a bloody nose...

"About all those things I've said last night--I--you heard all of it, right?"

"... ..." A nod. Don't turn poker-faced on me now, he thought desperately. He needed to judge Squall's reaction, and it didn't help to see that peaceful, closed face. He decided to go on with the apology.

"The alcohol got to me, and I sort of didn't have a way to stop much of what I've said, but can we call it quits? I was drunk, I didn't know exactly what I was saying--"

Squall's silence was getting definitely colder, he realized. Of course, one could say his silence was always cold, but the chill had crept up to his eyes, indicating deep anger or hurt. Seifer recognized that he had made a mistake. "Squall?"

"Yeah, I understand. You didn't mean what you said."

"Well, that isn't exactly--but I guess that's what I'm saying. I'm sorry I was drunk and you had to hear me ranting like a madman."

"In short, you think love isn't the right term for what you feel. Yes, I get it." Squall turned icy eyes to him and turned away, leaving Seifer alone to brood. He didn't understand Squall at all. Better yet, he didn't understand his own brain at all. As of last night he had had no chance with the other guy, but he blurted out his feelings all the same. Yesterday morning when he woke up Squall acted as if he wanted something else to happen between them, and what did he do? He said he didn't know what he was saying last night. He hated his mind sometimes. Why wouldn't it let him have this chance?

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Squall stood at a cliff, looking out to the wide expanse of forest underneath him. He was silent, looking at a pair of birds flying in tandem, likely a brooding pair.

He didn't understand Seifer at all. Two nights ago Seifer had been so drunk he said he loved Squall and hated Rinoa for being Squall's girl friend, but this morning he started apologizing as if it was wrong to say his feelings. Squall had never been much good in the feelings department, saying it or showing it, and he was rather envious Seifer had had the guts to tell him, even if it was fuelled by several shots of alcohol. He didn't think Seifer meant all that he said, given Seifer's drunk state, but he had thought of the possibility that maybe alcohol did loosen Seifer's tongue, making him say all the pent up words he'd been wanting to tell. And he liked the idea that Seifer liked him.

He'd never thought much about himself, and he knew that Rinoa was the only one with the patience to try to break through his taciturn nature, without much success. He and Seifer were the same in that sense. They usually didn't say much. So he was sort of gratified to be the recipient of Seifer's speech. In fact, he was so gratified he decided to tease Seifer about it, therefore the kiss on the scar and the thing about the dress. He had to admit, the dress would have gone with Seifer's blond hair and pale skin. Of course, the shortness of it would be ridiculous with Seifer's long legs. And yet there was that feeling of his lips touching Seifer's forehead, on the match of his own scar that roused something in him, but only for a moment. Could it have been his human side?

And then Seifer, this morning, after his hangover and a good night's sleep, decided to take all his words back. What was wrong with admitting something like that? Did Seifer feel it diminished his opinion of the blond man? It didn't. He understood that Seifer was drunk, he understood Seifer might have a disorder that made him talk so strangely when he was drunk, he'd actually excused Seifer's declaration as nothing more than alcohol's effect. But having heard it from Seifer himself hurt. He didn't understand why he was hurt that Seifer was taking back his declaration. It didn't actually mean he cared a lot about the other guy, right?

He decided it was time to go back to the resort. The girls might have sent out a search party for him.

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Squall came back to the sight of everyone going back inside. He could smell the exhaust of a motorcycle or any other gasoline fuelled vehicle in the air. Selphie turned to him to explain. "Seifer says he's going to off for a few hours to explore around and practice with his gunblade. Why he'd want to do that to relax is beyond me. Where have you been, Squall?"

"Here and there. He--uh--left?"

"Yeah. He just rounded the curve when you appeared. You just missed him."

"... ..." He cleared his throat, rusty because of long underuse. "Did he say anything for me?"

"Well, he says he's gonna be back to spar with you, after he's warmed up. That's all. Did Seifer have a message for Squall?" After several negatives Selphie turned back to Squall. "He did look to be in a hurry."

"... ..." He went up to his room, lifting up the gunblade. Seifer said they were going to spar again. He looked at the mirror on the wall, saw himself standing there, the scar that marked him a remembrance of one of their duels. What did Seifer want now? Why would he want to spar?

He put down the gunblade and went to Seifer's room. It was unlocked, empty, neat. There was no hint anyone actually lived here within the past few days. No trash, no clutter, no nothing. Seifer didn't leave his satchel, just as he suspected.

He knew Seifer wasn't going to go back in a few hours. He knew Seifer used sparring with him as an excuse, because Selphie wouldn't let him out of the resort if he tried to leave. And he didn't expect that. He didn't think Seifer would run away from their conversation, from Squall, unless he had a good reason. And he couldn't think of any.

He stood there for a few more moments, then walked out.

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"Said I heard every word, but I watched you turn away

Your eyes were colder than winter--"

-famous last words, jars of clay

"... ... whatever."

-me -.-