Sweet and soft
He still tasted her on his lips, long after
they had rejoined the others on the party. They had watched shooting stars
together, just like on that first night, and she had pointed up.... also just
like then. Such a good memory.
He couldn't help smiling at her; she was so beautiful with the moonlight in her
hair, that sweet sweet smile, the curves of her body
under her clothes-
So he had kissed her.
Because he realized that he-
She had tasted sweet and soft, just the way he had imagined her.
And then the moment had passed.
She had smiled at him and said: "Let's go
back to the others," and he had not wanted to. He wanted to remain on that
balcony with her, his hands tangled in her hair and their lips locked, her body
pressed against his.
But he had not said that, and they had left the starlit balcony.
The night passed. He drank (maybe too much) champagne, watched her talk to the
other partygoers and tried to ignore Irvine's
questions and implications about him and Rinoa. Not
even a moment he lost her from his sight. His eyes were glued to the way she
walked and moved, the shine of the candlelight on her hair and the subtle
glittering of her necklace... the way her breasts heaved when she laughed, the
little gestures that she made while talking to other people, her long legs, her
hips, her flawless skin and the beauty of her lips... everything. The whole her.
Even though Irvine was essentially
a great guy, Squall hated to admit to himself that he had sunk to the cowboy's
level. He couldn't think straight anymore, his thoughts were clouded by desire
for the first time in his life. He wanted her.
All he wanted to do right now was to grab Rinoa, and
take her away, back to the moonlight, back to solitude, just the two of them...
He would take her to the stars.
He would lose himself in her forever and ever - in that beautiful body, in
those fathomless dark eyes, in her smile....
And she would be sweet and soft like her kisses.