Seifer awoke from his nap, with a feeling of some urgency tugging at the
back of his mind. His neck hurt from leaning up on the palm tree in the
little forest surrounding Our Secret Place. He had been staying at the
abandoned orphanage for... any where between 1 and 2 weeks, maybe three.
Each day seemed to blur endlessly into each other, and Seifer didn't mind
it one bit. This was his haven. He had nowhere to go, nowhere left to hide.
Everywhere he went, he was hated upon sight. Businesses would refuse
service. Little children would throw rocks. The bigger ones threw garbage.
And the biggest, of course, always tried to start a fight.
And so he got tired of it. Tired of their hate. Tired of drifting from place to place. Tired of having to explain himself. Just tired, right down to the bone. And Seifer decided to turn to the only place that served as home for him. He had brought along building supplies, to try and fix up the place. Make it somewhat livable. He'd have to leave every now and then for supplies of course. Food, more supplies...
Seifer sighed. He had a lot of work in front of him. And he hadn't even begun. His days were spent walking along the beach, taking his time to get re-familiarized. This was his time to relax. His time to reflect. His time to regain memories lost.
Seifer almost chuckled to himself at that thought. He had, for a brief period of time, had a GF. Much of his childhood had faded, but was coming back in strong waves of emotion. And the first thing that he really, truly remembered was this place. His sanctuary.
Seifer fingered a small vile that was hanging off a silver chain necklace that he kept under his shirt. During his time as a knight, he had no idea why he had such a strong attachment to it, why he wore it every day, why he couldn't bear to part with it.
The vile was full of reddish-brown sand. And when Seifer remembered why he wore the necklace, his resolve to one day find a home at or like the orphanage grew until it was a solemn oath.
The vile contained some sand from this very beach he was sitting in front of. It was stained with blood. His blood and Quistis' blood. A slow smile lit up his face as he remembered that day.
His smile turned into a serious frown.
*Good gods above.* Seifer inwardly groaned. *I'm getting as bad as puberty boy!* Seifer shook his head. He felt that he had grown up since the war, since his knighthood, since he saw his dreams go crashing down. He wasn't as hostile, as arrogant, as impulsive. He was no longer a boy.
Seifer noticed with a frown that the sun was setting. He sat up then, shaking his head to clear his vision. He was still a little groggy from his nap. But once his eyes found a figure on the beach, HIS beach, he found he had to shake his head again, and smack it a few times.
*I'm. Losing. My. Mind.* Seifer thought, blinking. For there on the beach...
Was Quistis.
The light breeze was playing with her long, wavy blonde hair, as if it found a new toy. She looked like a goddess in her blood red dress, standing there tall and proud. Her skin was pale and flawless, the dress emphasizing her every curve. Her red lips were turned into a calm smile as she stared at the water.
Seifer was mesmerized.
So mesmerized, in fact, that he failed to notice the knife in her hand.
When he finally collected his senses, and realized that indeed she was real, he began to stand, to call out to her.
But, it all came a little late.
For she suddenly raised her left hand and savagely slashed at her right wrist, then her left.
Seifer sat, shocked, watching the beach turn red, unsure of what to do.
*Well that's.... interesting.... * Seifer blinked. It didn't occur to him to HELP her until she collapsed on the beach, arms falling out. That was when Seifer finally got up, finally ran over, finally tried to help her. The blood oozed all around her, in an ironic pattern that made her look like she had blood angel wings. Seifer frowned, and whispered "Curaga." A green light surrounded Quistis, then both of her wrists sealed themselves. Now that the biggest problem was solved, Seifer realized he had another problem on his hands.
What the HELL was he supposed to DO with her????
Every bone in his body told him to go and get help. Every bone except two.
One bone was the one he broke when his was 8, and ached instead of spoke to him.
The other wanted rather badly to *ahem* add onto her bone count, cheerfully shouting out "You have 283 bones in your body, want one more?"
Seifer ignored most of his bones (shuffling one bone in the back of his mind to use at a later date), and listened to his broken bone. He did what he decided seemed right at the time.
He grabbed a nearby stick and started poking her with it.
And so he sat there, poking her with his big stick, until night fell.
And so he sat there, in the dark, poking her with his big stick until the moon rose.
And then he decided his big stick wasn't helping. So he put it down and carried Quistis' limp form back to the orphanage, grabbing her pack along the way out.
"You realize, Quistis, that I've been poking you with my big stick for over an hour and a half now, and I don't even get a 'Thank you?' Not even a 'Was it good for you too?' Frankly, my dear Instructor, I'm hurt that you didn't like my big stick. Maybe I should try it again when you wake up..." Seifer told the sleeping lady in his arms.
"Now one must wonder, inSTRUCTor," Seifer continued, emphasizing her title, "what would drive you to attempt suicide? Did you leave a little note for Puberty Boy? A wittw wuv note, perhaps?" He jiggled the woman in his arms a little. "Hey I'm talking to you, you know! You could at least hit me or something... sheesh..... This is like talking to a wall..."
Seifer pouted. The least she could do was talk in her slumber. He was, after all, saving her life.
They arrived at the orphanage a few minutes later, with Seifer shifting her weight a little in his arms.
"Sheesh, Trepe, did you gain weight? Cause you're AWFUL heavy. Although I must complement you, you don't seem to have a single drop of blood on you! So neat and tidy, even in attempted death! how DOES she do it, hm?"
Seifer walked through the ruins of his former home, to the one room that remained standing. Barely.
"Sorry, sweets, we'll be sharing a room for a while! And there's no way in HELL you're making me sleep on the floor. And I can't very well put YOU on the floor, being somewhat ill and all." Seifer frowned at his makeshift bed. It was little more than a bunch of blankets piled on top of each other on the floor, with a pillow and a few blankets on top.
"Well, looks like we'll be sharing a bed after all! And here I was, thinking that this day would never come!" Seifer said, a cocky grin on his face. He gently laid her down on the bed, making sure he didn't jar her. He carefully tucked a blanket around her prone form. With a small frown, Seifer checked for a pulse. When he found a heartbeat, weak but there, he nodded his head. Just blood loss. Seifer brushed hair away from her face, his frown deepening. He couldn't very well go to sleep without knowing that she would be all right. What if she woke up? And snuck out and tried to kill herself again?
Seifer just couldn't have that. After all, they now had history together, with him poking her with his big stick and all. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd be losing a fair amount of sleep for the next few weeks...
~~~~~~AN~~~~~~ Ok. I believe firmly that Author's Notes take away from the story. But, I had to just make one. In the middle of playing FF8, I flatly refused to go on. I'm still in the middle of it as a matter of fact. I know how the game ends, and I think it sucks. . Seifer and Quistis should have had hot passionate monkey sex at the end! And Rinoa should have fallen off the Balamb Garden when she had the chance. I'll admit, Quistis and Seifer may seem a little out of character to some, and a lot OOC to others. But, I believe that nobody can TRULY capture their charas. Only the real Seifer and Quistis can do that. Although, I must admit a lot of authors have come close. Please keep in mind that both characters have changed, in big or little ways.
Anywho, more chapters to follow, please take the time to read and review.
And so he got tired of it. Tired of their hate. Tired of drifting from place to place. Tired of having to explain himself. Just tired, right down to the bone. And Seifer decided to turn to the only place that served as home for him. He had brought along building supplies, to try and fix up the place. Make it somewhat livable. He'd have to leave every now and then for supplies of course. Food, more supplies...
Seifer sighed. He had a lot of work in front of him. And he hadn't even begun. His days were spent walking along the beach, taking his time to get re-familiarized. This was his time to relax. His time to reflect. His time to regain memories lost.
Seifer almost chuckled to himself at that thought. He had, for a brief period of time, had a GF. Much of his childhood had faded, but was coming back in strong waves of emotion. And the first thing that he really, truly remembered was this place. His sanctuary.
Seifer fingered a small vile that was hanging off a silver chain necklace that he kept under his shirt. During his time as a knight, he had no idea why he had such a strong attachment to it, why he wore it every day, why he couldn't bear to part with it.
The vile was full of reddish-brown sand. And when Seifer remembered why he wore the necklace, his resolve to one day find a home at or like the orphanage grew until it was a solemn oath.
The vile contained some sand from this very beach he was sitting in front of. It was stained with blood. His blood and Quistis' blood. A slow smile lit up his face as he remembered that day.
His smile turned into a serious frown.
*Good gods above.* Seifer inwardly groaned. *I'm getting as bad as puberty boy!* Seifer shook his head. He felt that he had grown up since the war, since his knighthood, since he saw his dreams go crashing down. He wasn't as hostile, as arrogant, as impulsive. He was no longer a boy.
Seifer noticed with a frown that the sun was setting. He sat up then, shaking his head to clear his vision. He was still a little groggy from his nap. But once his eyes found a figure on the beach, HIS beach, he found he had to shake his head again, and smack it a few times.
*I'm. Losing. My. Mind.* Seifer thought, blinking. For there on the beach...
Was Quistis.
The light breeze was playing with her long, wavy blonde hair, as if it found a new toy. She looked like a goddess in her blood red dress, standing there tall and proud. Her skin was pale and flawless, the dress emphasizing her every curve. Her red lips were turned into a calm smile as she stared at the water.
Seifer was mesmerized.
So mesmerized, in fact, that he failed to notice the knife in her hand.
When he finally collected his senses, and realized that indeed she was real, he began to stand, to call out to her.
But, it all came a little late.
For she suddenly raised her left hand and savagely slashed at her right wrist, then her left.
Seifer sat, shocked, watching the beach turn red, unsure of what to do.
*Well that's.... interesting.... * Seifer blinked. It didn't occur to him to HELP her until she collapsed on the beach, arms falling out. That was when Seifer finally got up, finally ran over, finally tried to help her. The blood oozed all around her, in an ironic pattern that made her look like she had blood angel wings. Seifer frowned, and whispered "Curaga." A green light surrounded Quistis, then both of her wrists sealed themselves. Now that the biggest problem was solved, Seifer realized he had another problem on his hands.
What the HELL was he supposed to DO with her????
Every bone in his body told him to go and get help. Every bone except two.
One bone was the one he broke when his was 8, and ached instead of spoke to him.
The other wanted rather badly to *ahem* add onto her bone count, cheerfully shouting out "You have 283 bones in your body, want one more?"
Seifer ignored most of his bones (shuffling one bone in the back of his mind to use at a later date), and listened to his broken bone. He did what he decided seemed right at the time.
He grabbed a nearby stick and started poking her with it.
And so he sat there, poking her with his big stick, until night fell.
And so he sat there, in the dark, poking her with his big stick until the moon rose.
And then he decided his big stick wasn't helping. So he put it down and carried Quistis' limp form back to the orphanage, grabbing her pack along the way out.
"You realize, Quistis, that I've been poking you with my big stick for over an hour and a half now, and I don't even get a 'Thank you?' Not even a 'Was it good for you too?' Frankly, my dear Instructor, I'm hurt that you didn't like my big stick. Maybe I should try it again when you wake up..." Seifer told the sleeping lady in his arms.
"Now one must wonder, inSTRUCTor," Seifer continued, emphasizing her title, "what would drive you to attempt suicide? Did you leave a little note for Puberty Boy? A wittw wuv note, perhaps?" He jiggled the woman in his arms a little. "Hey I'm talking to you, you know! You could at least hit me or something... sheesh..... This is like talking to a wall..."
Seifer pouted. The least she could do was talk in her slumber. He was, after all, saving her life.
They arrived at the orphanage a few minutes later, with Seifer shifting her weight a little in his arms.
"Sheesh, Trepe, did you gain weight? Cause you're AWFUL heavy. Although I must complement you, you don't seem to have a single drop of blood on you! So neat and tidy, even in attempted death! how DOES she do it, hm?"
Seifer walked through the ruins of his former home, to the one room that remained standing. Barely.
"Sorry, sweets, we'll be sharing a room for a while! And there's no way in HELL you're making me sleep on the floor. And I can't very well put YOU on the floor, being somewhat ill and all." Seifer frowned at his makeshift bed. It was little more than a bunch of blankets piled on top of each other on the floor, with a pillow and a few blankets on top.
"Well, looks like we'll be sharing a bed after all! And here I was, thinking that this day would never come!" Seifer said, a cocky grin on his face. He gently laid her down on the bed, making sure he didn't jar her. He carefully tucked a blanket around her prone form. With a small frown, Seifer checked for a pulse. When he found a heartbeat, weak but there, he nodded his head. Just blood loss. Seifer brushed hair away from her face, his frown deepening. He couldn't very well go to sleep without knowing that she would be all right. What if she woke up? And snuck out and tried to kill herself again?
Seifer just couldn't have that. After all, they now had history together, with him poking her with his big stick and all. He had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that he'd be losing a fair amount of sleep for the next few weeks...
~~~~~~AN~~~~~~ Ok. I believe firmly that Author's Notes take away from the story. But, I had to just make one. In the middle of playing FF8, I flatly refused to go on. I'm still in the middle of it as a matter of fact. I know how the game ends, and I think it sucks. . Seifer and Quistis should have had hot passionate monkey sex at the end! And Rinoa should have fallen off the Balamb Garden when she had the chance. I'll admit, Quistis and Seifer may seem a little out of character to some, and a lot OOC to others. But, I believe that nobody can TRULY capture their charas. Only the real Seifer and Quistis can do that. Although, I must admit a lot of authors have come close. Please keep in mind that both characters have changed, in big or little ways.
Anywho, more chapters to follow, please take the time to read and review.
