Chapter Seven: Awakening
A/N: Oh my gods. I'm so sorry I haven't updated this fic in so~ long. Like always, school has taken over my life. I promise, promise to have another chapter up by the middle of April, the latest. Thank you to all those who posted their comments and have been patient enough to wait for this chapter. Sorry I kept you waiting.
The peace which I had found myself adjusting to was a nice change from the hectic and pitiful existence I had once been. Things were smoother now that Seifer was at my side and things came a lot easier to me. Like picking up my gunblade for example. Lionheart's weight is still foreign to me, my fingers having missed the feeling of solid metal in its grasp for quite some time. I do not fret though for I know, in time, things will come to me as naturally as they did just last year.
Quistis has inducted me into training for a few months and she is more than happy to see I'm back on my feet. I must say, I'm inclined to agree. It's been forever and a day since I've been able to spar. The adrenaline rush pushes me to new heights which have long been absent from my system. . . and for far too long. I find that the heat of battle brings about that carnal urge within every human, pushing it to the surface where it rears its ugly head with a vicious ferocity while blades clash together in a beautiful dance of flashing sparks and metallic clangs. You can create thunder with the simple block of two weapons against each other. It's a magic all its own.
Of course, I've had my moments where my mind would take off. It does that now and then as it used to before the war. Usually, when I drifted off in my thoughts while in the midst of battle, it was only because I was going over fighting strategies. Now. . . now when I see a blade coming at me, my pause is often due to the fact that something in my memory triggers the violent events that had been bestowed upon me while in Rinoa's clutches. This lasts only fragments of a second, but they're enough to throw me off guard and my sparring partner is often only millimeters away from slicing me open by the time he gets his weapon to stop. I'm lucky to still be in one piece after over a month in training.
Seifer has often offered his services in the Training Center, always ready to join me in a quick spar. I've yet to accept his proposal. When I fight him, I want it to be how it used to. . . Well, without the nasty remarks and snide insults. They heightened the effect, yes, but the real reason behind our battles that made them pulsate with life and greatness was the will that we both had. Neither of us would ever give up in a duel. Our bouts would carry on until we could no longer stand. We drove each other to such lengths because we were both so determined to beat the other. I want it to be like that. As of the moment. . . I'm sure he would have no trouble beating me with one hand tied behind his back. My strength is not what it used to be.
As far as. . . "we" are concerned. Seifer and I have kept our relationship secret, though it is rather difficult when his wandering hands find themselves upon me in the halls of Garden. Our affections are shown only behind the closed doors of our dorms when night has driven away the sun and darkness envelopes us into a world which I no longer fear to enter.
Pleasure is something I have been neglected of until just a few weeks ago. It's hard to desire it after what I went through, though. Seifer. . . somehow, he guided me into feeling again. No more numbness and lifeless existences. There was passion in what we did, what he did to me. There was no intentional pain. I never considered "gentle" to be one of Seifer's qualities considering, I've never seen him handle anything with a delicacy. Anything fragile was handled in the same rough sort of way he went about things. But, when he touches me, the caresses are soothing, slow, and tender. It makes me feel special, knowing that I'm probably the only thing to receive this sort of care from him.
Now that winter has come upon us and darkness falls at a much earlier hour, it is indeed nice to have that warm body beside my own; a reassuring presence that has led me on my path to healing the scars which I thought would have long since destroyed me.
I fear the dark. I realize this now because every time I crawl into bed, I worry that when the lights go out and slumber washes over me that I shall awaken to the abyss that had swallowed me for a whole week. That I should wake up to her malicious gaze full of predatory hunger.
It hasn't happened yet and I pray it never will, though the body spooned up behind my own gives me more reassurance than words ever could.