Disclaimer: I do not own this ff thing and as well as the characters.
Love within a Diary
Final Chapter
Reaching out blindly to lovingly trace the warmth of him her hand only meets tousled sheets and for long moments it's the only reminder that two hearts soared on a plain of shared enthrallment the night before. As her eyes slowly open however, a long stem rose comes into focus where his head had laid along with a quickly written note.
Good morning Quistis,
Be back shortly
Love,
Seifer
Clearing the hazy sleep from her eyes, Quistis tenderly touched fragile petals wondering where he's gone.
Slowly her mind begins to remember the sounds of a shower, a lingering kiss, and soft loving words that murmured something about breakfast…
Understanding that breakfast bars wouldn't quite due for morning fan-fair for two, Quistis mentally begin to list groceries for latter hoping to repay his sweet gesture this evening with dinner.
It's only minutes after finishing her own shower that she open drawers to dress and both his diary and present catches her eye. With a heavy wave of guilt she remove both, her conscience plaguing her with another lost opportunity last night to confess all.
Would it make a difference now?
I don't want to lose him. If I tell him this morning, I'd risk just that.
No, it was better to get the diary restored again, find a means of replacing it back in his study, and just never ever mention or read it again.
Flipping the pages reminiscently, she can't help but scan his words even if it's for the very last time…
"...The last couple of weeks have seemed like years.
After waiting what feels like a lifetime I'm on this plane, on my way to see her. Not being together has only made me realize all the more just how much she means to me. She's become my everything and my every thought.
Every night till now I've called to say goodnight making sure she was getting enough rest, and to make sure she was holding up with the long rehearsals.
With every phone call I found myself wishing I were there to gently massage her aches away so she could rest for the next day.
I Always laid there in bed afterwards, my arms wrapped around my pillow imagining she was here by my side.
In those moments, memories would rush through my body. The smell of her hair. The taste of her lips. The touch of her gentle hand across my arms with her fingertips.
The way she bites her lower lip and smiles at me with that glisten in her eyes. The way her hair falls off her shoulder and slides down her back and all the way to her thighs.
The way her cheek rests against my shoulder when she's fallen asleep. The feeling I get when I feel her breathe on my skin when her body presses against mine, with every soft exhale.
The warm wave of longing she brings me when she whispers sweet words.
Even as I sit here in this plane, all I can think of is holding her tight in my arms as soon as I see her. Stroking her hair as she holds my hand close to her heart.
All I want to do is tell my sweet angel how much she's touched my life. How she's touched my soul. Thank her for inspiring me to live my life to its fullest.
At times I wonder if she really knows how much she really means to me. Its so easy to sit here and write how I feel but then when she's there in front of me I stubble on words like a child taking their first steps. Expressing my feeling in these pages come so easy...
Maybe if I wrote a song that tells her how much she means. A song that would tell her how beautiful she is and explain all the dreams I have of her.
If there were any way I'd sing those words to her."
Seifer
Fingers tremble with overwhelmed emotion, knowing how much it meant when he came then.
Seifer had rushed through the rest of his studio recording time, pushed himself past endurance to move heaven and earth just to be together while Quistis still struggled with the dance tour.
The same dance company that was offering a permanent lead in next season's tour.
He'll be on the road then performing himself come spring.
Taking a breath Quistis pushed those thoughts to the back of her mind, too soon to be caught up in the conflicts of what could arise.
Her fingers slowly turn the page...
A Lifetime to Embrace
The click of the door closing… footsteps, and her fingers paused on the page she was about to turn.
It'd only been twenty minutes, hardly enough time for her to prepare herself for what might happen.
What if his gaze held distance and regret? What if what passed between them last night ruined recapturing what they had shared these past months?
Her eyes scanned the diary before her, and her worst fear leapt to mind,
Will he understand? Forgive me for what I've done?
She betrayed his trust. Even if what happened last night didn't destroy what they'd shared, the likelihood he'd understand held consequences.
She knew she had to tell him, but she'd rather face the hope of regaining that trust over time rather than realize her actions ruined everything.
The sound of her bedroom door opening prompted the coward in her into swift action. She dropped the diary and nudged it under the bed.
"You're awake."
Her stomach knotted as she tried to decipher any underlying tone. None other than mild disappointment, and she wasn't sure if that was a good sign.
Could she trust herself to speak?
She took a deep breath for courage, then turned to find him just a few feet away. A tray he carried offered a couple of cups of coffee, a few danishes, and endowed another delicate rose.
"Breakfast?"
He walked over to the bed, set the tray beside him as he sat down, and reached for her hand.
"mmm…." He replied with a nod
His touch slowly encompassed her hand, and with a gentled insistence he brought her next to him as he finished,
"I don't have a clue how much of a bear you can be without you're morning coffee. I wasn't about to take chances."
That made her smile and the knot she harbored deep inside turned into fluttered warmth.
He smelled of fresh soap, his clothes were hardly rumpled, and there was an evening's growth of stubble dotting his jaw.
As her gaze slowly lifted, a slight smile curled those masculine lips that seemed to match the gaze that followed; eyes that held her own that hinted at humor even though they spoke other desires while they trailed her face and lingered at her lips.
His hand let go of hers to slowly travel up her arm, the light action, a seduction itself as fingertips trailed over her shoulder, along the column of her throat, then played along her chin while his thumb trailed her lips.
"Better. For a moment I thought you were spoiling for more then just coffee…"
His mouth bridged the gap between them, the remainder of his words a whispered murmur against hers that made her shiver with anticipation.
"…or this…"
The tentative brush of his lips tempted her to part her own, when she did, coaxing paths of persuasion mearly teased instead of sating her with the kiss she craved.
"Seifer…"
His smokey gaze raised, searched, and saw past the stirred desire his touch provoked, his mouth moved a whisper away from her own.
"There is something, isn't there?"
She could have denied it; push back all the doubts and fears his words invoked just to lose herself to the passion play of his caress, his kiss…
Last night had changed so many things between them. She had given her heart so completely that it would have been impossible for him not to pick up on the inner chaos she still felt.
Her throat constricted, but the surge of emotional guilt urged her to confess,
"Seifer I…"
It was so hard to keep her stare locked with his. How could she face his reaction when her heart wouldn't stop pounding its argument to keep silent or lose everything she ever loved. She tried to turn away.
He wouldn't let her.
His hand gently stayed her face. Again his gaze probed, this time searching for the words she hadn't yet spoken. Before his questing stare found a way to her soul, she managed to pull away before courage failed altogether.
She eased away from the bed, moved a few steps further from him, and took a deep breath.
"I don't want to hurt you."
The silence that lingered was heavy, charged, but short-lived.
"Do you regret last night, Quistis?"
Stupid…stupid…stupid - of course that'd be the first conclusion he'd jump to. Hastily she denied it.
"No…"
"You want to take back the words then?"
He couldn't be serious. Did he really think she was practiced enough to share her soul with him if it meant nothing?
She was about to ask him that very question, only when she turned to face him her answer stared right back at her. Every ounce of body language dared her to give it her best shot - he'd never believe her. With a slight smile he finished,
"Good, just so both of us know you'd make a lousy poker player."
If he was trying his best to humor her, he succeeded, however it didn't deter her from the seriousness of the matter.
"Seifer, just hear me out."
"It's our careers then?,"
He stood as he continued; began to bridging the distance between them,
"Quistis, even if you were living at the South Pole teaching Penguins to tap-dance, and I was at the North Pole giving singing lessons to Santa's elves, we'd still make things work. Nothing's impossible if we love each other."
Even though that had nothing to do with her confession, he had hit a major issue she knew they'd eventually have to discuss.
"But last night you said…"
"-what we did wouldn't change anything. I won't ask you to give up what you love doing just because we committed ourselves, that's what I meant. We love each other, no matter what, we'll make this work."
He was close enough to touch. If she just took a step forward, she'd be able to lean into him, feel his strength, borrow his resolve, and believe in the hope he so easily offered.
She couldn't give into that temptation, the warmth of his arms would melt any courage she had left. She moved around him and walked towards the bed.
"No matter what?"
Her bare foot crept just beneath the bed where it felt and grasped the corner of his diary. Slowly she slid it out into view, then walked to the far end of the bed, sat, and waited for the inevitable.
Silence stretched for long moments she could hardly bear.
What would she say? She couldn't help herself?
As if that was going to make all the difference in the world. She could have blamed her insecurities at first, but it didn't explain why she hadn't returned his diary after the fact of knowing how he felt about her.
She heard the tray's light clatter, and a quick glance confirmed it being placed off the bed, out of the way. A few moments more and the bed shifted under her while warm arms from behind circle around her to gently pull her against him.
His voice was hushed, "How much have you read?"
It was the last thing she expected; she'd read his innermost thoughts and dreams, discovered his most private feelings - and he was …he was holding her…and she wasn't sure what to make of it.
"The night of the party I wandered into your study; I came across it when browsing some of the books on your desk. I didn't know what it was until I started reading,"
"How much have you read, Quistis?"
Again those words, hushed, with no hint of conviction swirled near her ear. Goodness, her resolve to stay just as she was, was the hardest thing to manage. All she had to do was lean her head back and gaze into his eyes to convey the regret of her actions, but she couldn't, if she dared she wouldn't be able to face the hurt there was to see.
"Everything."
Taking a deep breath she tried to explain how his written passages had woven an inescapable calamity of events.
"You almost caught me twice at the party. I dropped it under your desk when I heard you come in, and latter when I went to put it back, I slipped it in my friends purse so you wouldn't catch me again."
"Ah…the perpetual missing earring. No wonder you seemed…out of sorts."
There was a trace of humor in his voice but nothing that discouraged her from explaining further.
"I put it back on our first date - we had just been at the coffee shop, you had gotten a phone call when we arrived at your apartment, and you asked me to find some songs in your desk, remember?"
"Hmm..hmm. I'd been writing on stationary for a time because I knew it wasn't there."
Something in his statement made her pause, but her mind conveyed the play on words 'knew' was probably meant in the same retrospect as 'couldn't find'. She ignored his slip up and continued.
"Everything would have been fine if I hadn't taken another peek at it on your birthday. Time just got away from me while I was cooking dinner, and the next thing I knew your diary was on the floor covered in pasta sauce and dinner was ruined."
She tried to pull away from his arms, but he wouldn't have that, and she wasn't sure what to make of it as she finished,
"Right before you came in I'd been on the phone with an antique shop I visited earlier. When they said they may be able to fix the damage, I pocketed the diary again. I should've told you when you walked into all that mess but I couldn't bring myself to. I've…I've had it these past days."
"I see."
I see? She'd read his innermost thoughts and dreams, gloried in his most private feelings - and all he could say is I see?
"I made up my mind to tell you last night when you surprised me, but I…we…"
She felt his arms slowly propel her back, and in the next few moments she was laying on her bed, him above her, arms still entrapping her loosely,
"--got sidetracked?"
It was on the verge of reaction to slip away from his arms, to avoid everything she knew she couldn't face in his eyes, but instead she found herself marveling at the man above her whose expression spoke volumes. The smokey depths of his expression conveyed understanding, compassion…knowledge.
"You knew."
His gaze made a study of her face, and for long moments he seemed to consciencely make an effort to gather his thoughts.
"The night of the party I glimpsed you reading it before you dropped it under the desk, and then last night I caught you in the chair before I surprised you with popcorn."
"And you said nothing? I - was reading you're diary, and all this time you knew?"
Now she understood why he was holding her, not for the emotional support, but to keep her from running away from him when she finally realized what he deliberately set into motion.
There was something about the way he avoided her stare as he answered,
"Quistis, its not what you think."
"Let me up."
Her words didn't hold much conviction because even as she recognized his intent, it was her own free will that'd gotten her into this mess.
So he placed his diary where she could find it -- he couldn't have been sure she'd actually read it. Besides, there was so much of himself within those pages; she knew it wasn't filled with made-up passages just for the sake of sleeping with her.
Every page came from the heart. Still, it'd been intentional she'd read his diary, a sort of manipulation she played into and she didn't know why.
A part of her hoped he'd stay right there, explain, and make everything right. Instead, he complied with her request, moved off the bed, and she was lost. What ever she expected to happen probably wouldn't, and for the love of God, she didn't want it to end this way.
Fine, he left his diary out for her to read - for whatever the reason. If she searched deep down in her soul she could figure out the reason -- but couldn't he explain? Didn't he realize just how much her heart hoped it was for the right reasons instead of possible motives?
She sat up preoccupied in thoughts about what more she could say in order for him to justify his actions. Maybe she'd never know if all this spoke of a selfless or selfish act, but could she live with that?
One thing was for sure, she needed time to think more clearly—
"Where is he? I've searched a long time, and though I hear him calling out to me, I can't find him. Is he a phantom, a figment of my imagination? Why do I hope to see his face in ever man I see, only to be rejected because I feel too much, love to deeply?
I know he's there, beyond my reach, my heart reassuring me that this time it will be him because I still need to believe…"
The words the soft hushed tones of his voice tripped along hit with such impact, her entire being nearly lost the rest of her composer. She looked up, saw him standing by the window; sunlight filtering against a warn lose-leaf paper he held in his hands.
How had he…?
"Is it so much to ask to love and be loved? Aren't we all meant for someone to share our lives with? Then why can't I have this? What do I have to sacrifice, what do I have to do that I haven't done to obtain it?"
"Seifer…please..."
She wanted to say stop, for goodness sake, because she wasn't sure just how much she could take. However, she couldn't get anything more past the constricted wave of emotion she felt.
It was enough to make him pause. His eyes met hers for a brief moment, and sincere longing spoke volumes of how hard he was fighting the urge to come over where she was, take her into his arms -- and this time -- love her with all the feelings running rampant within him.
His stare remained fixed with hers as she witnessed his silent debate.
She caught her breath; tried to still the beating of her heart, and just accepted the fact it was beyond her comprehension how this man could make her feel every spectrum of emotion in just a short span of time.
He began to fold the letter as he slowly came towards her, his decision made. More then that though, he finished reciting her words, and it took a moment to realize he did it by memory.
"I long for a touch, a word, a heart to beat beside my own, that's all. Someone I can share my life with. Someone that longs for me; that's searching for me as hard as I am for him.
Show me where he is God, I implore you. Complete me, fill this space within and bring him to me. Let me know that its him, the one I've been searching for all my life.
Let me love and be loved. This is my wish, my prayer."
Goodness, she couldn't find any words, couldn't make sense of all the emotions that were running rampant within her except that she wanted to grab the blanket from the bed and hide right under it until she could come to grips he'd actually had her written prayer and read it out loud.
It was on the very tip of her tongue to deny she ever wrote those words, a reflex action that was meant to protect whatever he had to say, or anyone that would have found that wishful prayer for love.
She could always say the letter was the result of a weak moment, but he was watching her so intently with that slight expectant smile on his face, that anything she'd say would just be on behalf of masking the embarrassment she was feeling besides everything else.
Taking a deep breath, she looked up at her bedroom ceiling and mentally implored some divine guidance to intercede. However that wasn't going to happen because the corner of her eye caught his actions. He was kneeling down before her, and by the weight of something that was placed in her lap, she knew it wasn't her written prayer.
She bit her lip and looked down at his diary.
The feel of his fingertips that brushed the side of her hair and tucked it behind her ear was the only preliminary touch that prepared her for the warmth of his palm that gently cupped her cheek and brought her eyes to his.
"That night it was raining after rehearsal. I tried to act like I'd lost something when we were outside. I didn't want it to seem obvious I'd been looking for you. This fell out of your purse when you were struggling to open your umbrella. You didn't notice, so I pretended it was the thing I lost."
…I persuaded myself to pass by slowly on the pretence of searching for something.
Well, I found what I was looking for, as happy as a young man could have been right then…
When she'd read those words she hadn't realized till now what a double entry they'd been. She remembered him searching the ground pretending he lost something only to pocket latter what he mislead her to believe was a song he wrote.
It was her letter.
"I was already in love with you then, but I didn't know what to do about it. This…"
he held up the folded loose-leaf written prayer between them with his other hand,
"This gave me the courage, Quistis, to find a way to show you my heart was yours all along."
... 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…
The first excerpt she read from his diary lingered in her minds eye as revelation dawned. It all made sense now. He had found her words, and it had prompted him to take a leap of faith so she could see how much he really cared.
"I think I'm gonna cry."
It was the only thing she could think of saying at the time as she witnessed her whole world in his eyes laid bare for her to see.
"No you're not."
He said softly, the breath of his words caressing her face as he moved nearer and set aside his diary and her letter from between them,
"You're going to kiss me, I'm going to make love to you, we'll get married, have kids, and wind up telling our kids the story of how the ballerina and the musician fell in love."
She wasn't sure if she could fight off the wave of emotional tears any longer.
"I am? We are…?"
He moved forward, and before she knew it, she was tumbled back on the bed. With a few quick motions he followed above her, his arms blocking her from any ideas of rolling away.
The heat of his contours slowly fit against hers, the warmth of his stirring breath descend closer to her mouth, and as his own began to bridge the gap between them; the striking emotion he conveyed in the last few words he communicated soul to soul were,
"Everything's possible when you're in love."
His kiss was gentle and stirring, lovingly insistent, and a reflection of everything she ever prayed and wished for. HE completed her. She loved and was loved. There was nothing more to think of that could keep this from being.
And as his kisses deepened into sweet intoxication her last thoughts drifted away on a cloud of anticipated loving excerpts to read, and a lifetime of loving thank you notes to prays returned.
****THE END****
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Author's notes:
Finally! What do you think about the ending part? I juz can't think of any possible scenes to happen back there…oh well…I hope you like it though ^_^
See of all this time, Seifer knew Quistis was actually reading his diary! Tsk! If I were Quistis I would punch him! oh well…you wouldn't do that to the one you love most right…..sigh…love really conquers all…