Chapter 1

****Quistis POV****

Since the first time gazes locked she knew -- the tiny flutter of her heart skips a beat from his intimate stare, knots form deep in the pit of her stomach from the very idea of him walking her way – she had always known it was him and no one else that could win her heart.

But you've never breathed a word of your feelings to this day.

You've called yourself a coward time and again while keeping a safe distance from him, knowing all along there would be a time, a place, when you'd speak your hearts secret.

This evening when she arrive, prompted by an invitation of gathered friends, she thought, "perhaps tonight….", even though the coward within speaks through uncertain rejection, "perhaps never".

Shown in by a caterer, she was told to make herself comfortable since the host is still preparing for that certain evening.

Her wandering takes her to a study filled with books and an oversized desk flooded with hues of sunset from a nearby picturesque window. Like a magnet she was drawn to it, relishing the little hints of discovery that await.

With mild curiosity she glance over a few classics that litter around his desk -- leather-bound volumes that are picked up one by one. Romeo and Juliet ... Oliver Twist … A Tale of Two Cities … A—"What is this?" she silently muss, as she handle the leather volume void of a title.

Slowly opening a page at random her eyes fall upon hand written words ... her hand trembles slightly ... it was….his diary...

And she begin to read...

"... I sit here and begin to think about her. How I wish she were here right now. How relieved I was to hear her say she could see the true romantic in me. If only she knew how I feel about her, but I do not have the courage to tell her. So I try to put my feelings on paper, then if ever I have the strength I will give it to her. For the first time in ages words are a riddle instead of a rhyme.

Never before has it been so hard for me to write about something so precious. Searching for the right words, language, or phrase. All the words I've used before will never do, because they're mere grains of sand compared to the beauty she possesses.

I can not think of any one word that could describe her, because when I say she is beautiful I mean she is more beautiful than the first ray of sunshine that glistens off the drops of morning dew that fall from a leaf on an early spring morning day in the high mountains of my memories.

More beautiful than the last glimpse of sunlight that shimmers off the ocean as a small boat sails towards the sunset off the coast of Italy, in my dreams.

As I search through the memories in my mind I began to think; "What is the most beautiful thing I have ever experienced in my life?" It was something that I encountered last year.

I woke up and started to walk out the front door of my cabin in the middle of June, only to find it was starting to snow. So there I was among all the elegant features of Spring with Summer merely around the next mountain, winter paying a visit to say a late good-bye until next year.

There on the ground with all the wild flowers, with all their vivid colors, laid the snow. These colors stood out so much it was as if an artist painted these flowers on a pure white canvas.

This was the most beautiful thing until I first saw her. So how do I tell her how beautiful she really is, and if I could would she believe me? Would she take me as sincere? I vow that if ever given the chance to tell her "I swear upon the heart that gives me life, that you are the true meaning of beauty."

Seifer

Her heart beats faster as the thought of his words touch the very depths of her soul. "This...this is how he sees me?" Quistis whisper in awe.

Carelessly her hand turns pages trying to steady racing emotions as she read his next entry...

Fellow guests already giving their leave reminding her of the late hour.

Through out the evening his lingering stare and warm smile were readily there when Quistis found herself glancing his direction, but the depth of his gaze trips her composer so many times, her colleagues began inquiring about her health.

Between the constant breathless distraction of him, and shear wonder over the discovery of his diary, Quistis was unsure how she have made it through the evening. Now if only she could manage to find a way back to his study and place his diary where it was found...

"Penny for your thoughts?"

The suddenness of Seifer's voice beside her and light touch of his hand brushing against her back sends never ending tingles of awareness. A little embarrassed at being startled, Quistis apologized awkwardly, fumbling for the perfect excuse while her mind races to take up the present opportunity.