Disclaimer: *Copies and pastes* : I don't own Squaresoft and Final Fantasy VIII as well as any character named in this fic. ^_~!


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Anything.

Something.

Go and impede me. Impede this insane walk, this trek. Surprise me. Tell me I am mistaken. Explain why. Reasons. I do not mind their veracity. I will not seek the roots. Your tone: restful and composed in unfathomable rituals. Every contemplated word.

I beg of you, drop your aptness, your methodic education and come here, by my side to share what you have not, explain what you desire.

I will listen, no matter what.

Move. Reach out. Rejoinder why this is another of my irrational, radical dreams as you once called them. Tell me why you must be the star of my sequel. The leader and only protagonist.

Do not become the warden of that door. I do not desire to be someone to happened to crossed paths with you. I do not want to walk out like this, of this comfort only found within you. Out of this everlasting heat. I crave to shun the empathy talks of people who venture to say they know me well. The compassionate pats at my back and the hands gliding through the ebony black silk of hair at my back.

I have ran out of resources, you do not realize? My smile is now a failure, my grace has been disillusioned. All has come down to my mind and my spirit. In them, I rely. Will you accept the reticence behind them? Of my chaste feelings?

Translucent I thought my eyes were. I pictured my features revealing. Of the wrong kind they were? My intention was to alert you, to draw you here, and there you sit like the lion, and I the frail. That frown of eternal reproach again knits your brows and disturbs your forehead. I have already lost the count of how many times you have shifted uneasily your hand from your forehead to your lap.

It all comes down to the beginning.

When I first met you and ventured to say I knew you too well.

Hyne, if knowing you was all about your countless positions and nothing about understanding your feelings.

As the rest of the Owls would explain, I am princess.

Remove the crown, for no prince I have. Far I am from having the perfect castle built. And no trinkets hang from my wrists and neck. I do not remember the time when I asked for them.

I might have never asked. But I do now, to trade them for you, so your gentle digits grasp me.

Halt. Listen.

The sky mourns with me. Or is it that it has started to value me? Us? Thwarting my exit with that rain?

Alerted I craned my head to the window, holding myself from letting go and accompany those pearls that meet their finale against the cold of the window, thinking wrong their friendship with the wind, being this element the one that tempts me to erupt. Along with the thrust came the ring I forcefully retrieved from you.

Back then, when I meant nothing.

And you explained the origins of his name, explaining how the tag had no reason in particular.

And still, we fought him.

I fought a part of you.

It is amazing how I can relate to him.

His name.

For now, I am as well a griever, and the sky makes sure to remind me of it.