Author: Kisutis
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No Longer Misunderstood - Chapter Two
It was late, and the hour at which he was still awake was doing nothing to numb his ceaseless, unwanted thoughts as he lay underneath the weightless, white sheets on his bed. Tousled strands of light brown fell disorderly in front of his visage, brushing against dark, slightly furrowed eyebrows as consciousness and slumber continued their endless battle.
The typically peaceful breeze floating in through the open window seemed to join the struggle as well, tickling the bare flesh on his neck, chest, and arms. It momentarily subsided, only to begin blowing his bangs across his forehead and yank at his heavy coal eyelashes in an attempt to draw his eyes open.
It eventually retreated, gusting through the window a final time, and carrying along with it the sound of chirping crickets, who took the place of the wind on the battle field. The sound increased drastically in volume, lessened, and then magnified again, successfully preventing slumber from gaining an advantage over the other side.
Reluctantly, his eyelashes fluttered, parting from the soft skin on which they had rested. Swirling, twin pools, mixtures of fire and ice, were revealed. An agitated glare surfaced on his countenance, directed at nothing in particular except the invisible, opposing noises.
Sitting up, he listened as the crickets seemed to cheer excitedly at their victory. He thought he had been lucky to be allowed to turn in early, since the party had been held tonight, but it turned out making no difference -- the party was ending by now, and he hadn't received even a few minutes of sleep.
Standing to his feet, he pulled on his pants and yanked his white shirt on over his head. He knew the only place open would be the Training Center, but anywhere was better than here right now. His own dorm room seemed so torturous.
He slid his leather, fur-collared jacket on as he exited his room, grateful that no one was around that he could see. He didn't feel like being questioned, especially since everyone thought he had left the party to go to bed early -- yet, here he was, roaming the hallway.
Being Commander, no one had wanted him to leave the party so soon, but he had, anyway . . . Thanks to Rinoa, but only because she had wanted to leave early, as well. However, her purpose of leaving had been different. He recalled her words, how she had explained to him that she wanted to go somewhere private. When he didn't agree, she had simply turned around, and, rather loudly, gone into her guest room and slammed the door.
A heavy, much needed sigh was emitted from his slightly parted lips as he now stood inside the 'secret area' in the Training Center, right hand pressed against his forehead -- an action caused by annoyance, lack of sleep, and . . . Something he couldn't quite distinguish as actually being one certain reason that he felt like this.
. . . Confusion . . . ? Maybe . . .
He shook his head, almost violently, paying no attention to the ceaseless tugging of the wind on his soft, brown strands of hair. These thoughts had been crossing his mind for a while now, but never had he felt this strongly that nothing was going right . . . Or at least what he considered to be right.
. . . Guilt . . .
That was it. As if to assure him of that realization, the wind yanked his hair extra hard, seeming to intertwine itself around each strand. He took that moment to glance upwards, at the exact second every star in the sky appeared to erupt with a newfound light.
The more he contemplated it, the more he discovered how guilty he felt . . . Yet, he didn't really feel bad about it.
. . . Why? . . .
His piercing, gray-blue eyes stared at the stars, as if asking them for the answer. He was just as lost and unimportant as a single star out of billions, up in that huge, velvety black sky.
. . . Because it's not my fault . . . It's Rinoa's . . .
The thought seemed to catapult itself into his mind, all at once. Rinoa had been very selfish, and didn't seem to care at all about his opinions . . . Especially lately. Uninvited reflections immediately clouded his mind when he could no longer find the effort to keep them away. Entering his mind was what had happened only a few days ago . . .
~~~~~
"Squall, there you are! Where have you been!?"
He turned around in the direction of the recognizable voice, remaining stationary so the holder of it could catch up with him. The figure rushed toward him hurriedly, throwing her arms around his neck without hesitation.
"I . . . Haven't really been anywhere," Squall answered, puzzled, and slowly placed his arms around her when she didn't show any signs of letting go of him. Why is she acting like she hasn't seen me in weeks? I just saw her less than an hour ago . . .
"Well, anyway . . . ," Rinoa began, finally releasing the death grip she had on him. "I want you to go somewhere with me . . . "
". . . Where?" Please don't say you want to go to a party . . .
"A party, of course!"
". . . . ."
"Well . . . ? Don't you wanna go?" she asked him, tugging on the arm of his leather jacket.
"Sorry . . . I don't really feel like it," he responded, not exactly being dishonest. He was sick of going to parties outside of the ones held at Garden. That's all she ever wanted to do. He was more than surprised when her usually cheerful smile faded to a straight line, forming a grim expression upon her dark features.
". . . You never wanna do anything with me anymore! What am I doing wrong!?" she shouted angrily, typically calm eyes flashing with something that reminded him of a thunderstorm. Without looking back, she turned and ran the opposite direction, leaving stunned students in her wake.
~~~~~
. . . There had been many more times before that when they had argued, but as he remembered it, he had never actually started anything. If she was more open to his ideas, maybe they would get along better . . . Though, every day, he began to doubt their relationship more.
It wasn't hurting him . . . Just making him remember every previous loss . . . And as hard as it was for him to admit, there was one in particular that he regretted . . .
***
Well, there's the second part. Thanks to everyone who gave me those helpful reviews! From what I see, there was a bit of confusion about what the pairing's gonna be -- I can assure you that it's not going to be a Quiefer. Sorry to any Seifer/Quistis fans, but I can't stand that pairing. I happen to love Quall, so . . . I think you can pretty much take a guess. Please review, everyone! Thanks!!