Please review, its what keeps me going! (meh…way too enthusiastic today)
Disclaimer: ummmm, I don't own ff8 but…I own…umm…
The blink of an eye, a light shudder erupted throughout the stones man's features, gently resounding and falling to settle upon the sole of his feet. His eyes opened to a confusing sight, who was this? Quistis. Why is Quistis here, why am I here? Gentle questions echoed throughout his aching mind, reaching cavities too damaged to be accessed.
"Awake," he half mumbled, half questioned, feeling slight tingles upon his finger tips and bringing his hand up to meet the back of his head.
"How could you do that, Seifer," Quistis, the woman before him, rose her voice to a full on yell before she started to weep quietly and embrace his sore muscles in a clasp. Seifer continued to look shocked, a querying stare with unfocused eyes pleaded the man beside the bed to answer what was going on.
True to his disbelief, he simply wallowed in the embrace and waited for her to break it, leaving his cold body quite lonely in fact. He continued to stare blankly, before a sad grumble of words poured out of his mouth, "What happened?"
All the disheveled patient could recall was sadness…drinking a lot…the rest grew grayer and grayer, fading gently from his mind. Now he was here. Who was the man? A vague recollection, a wisp of the past reincarnated in his mind, a dream? No, Michael, his manager…but he couldn't shake the uncomfortable nature, the bland overstatement of tension between the two. Had he hurt him before? Threatened him?
Deep thought scattered quickly as his face felt the sting of palm across his face. He continued to look ahead, Quistis fully sobbing before him, shouting words that didn't make sense, "You could've killed her!" Like a mantra, repeating it over and over, then turning it about and continuing to spout anger full force at the clearly dumfounded man. In complete irony, as sudden as the slap had come, an embrace took place. She gripped on to him once again…like she wouldn't let go.
He was reveling about in the warmth and confusion when she backed off and slapped him again. Now the man intervened, pulling Quistis off Seifer, whom she had began to slap, yell and hug in an automatic fashion.
Michael's gentle grip pulled her gently back, shuffling towards the corner of the room where he placed her upon a chair. Shock and disbelief, anger and hope, all emotions warped about her face, writhing, as she stared at the man on the bed. Seifer turned to look at her too.
What had he done? When, how, last time he had seen Quistis, they were on speaking terms at the least. Now he was in a hospital bed, having her clearly untidy frame glare at him from the corner, a tear springing out of her eye. Never one to sit by confused he cracked his lips open, "What happened?"
Stunned looks were exchanged between Quistis and Michael, who then pursued Seifer with inquiring stares, leaving their disbelief to flit about in the pace between. Quistis drove a hand through her choppy coffee hair, "You can't remember?" A gentle shaking of the head was all she received in response. "Do you know who you are?" A chuckle graced Seifer's predominantly confused face and he half-smiled, half mocked.
"I just said I didn't remember what you were talking about, or why the hell you were beating on me? Or why, exactly, I'm in a hospital? All I remember is," he paused, wondering if he should tell her, or let it be. No, Michael was here, Nex was his boss. He would have enough trouble getting his job back after whatever horrible thing he had done, it seemed abysmal to tell his boss's girlfriend he liked her, hadn't he? He gazed over at the pair, five feet away, Quistis huddled underneath Michael's arm, they looked confused. He remembered to pick up on his disenchanted reel, "Getting really hammered…" Not the most intelligent or belligerent thing to say, but it was a filler.
"That's all," Michael looked down, solemnly bowing his head as if to contemplate how to break the truth to Seifer, "You…you…" He sighed, tapping his foot upon the floor. It wasn't simple to tell a man he had tried to commit suicide, and in fact tried to take someone with him to the other side. He felt a tug on his jacket, a gaze down produced an image of Quistis mouthing, 'I will'.
"Seifer you," Quistis quickly recollected what she was to say, "After you got drunk, you, you found a girl. And you took her on a drive…"
"Stupid driving drunk," he spoke believing this was all, a simple intoxicated crash, roadside collision with a tree.
"No, you don't understand," she wiped tears from beneath crimson eyes, "You drove off the road on purpose."
Seifer gripped his head which was dancing around, bemused of it's own misfortune and injuries, "You can't mean what I think…" His voice trailed off, head suddenly throbbing, "These lights are too bright, they're bringing on a migraine. Turn them off!" His shouts of frustration quickly answered with Michael slamming his hands to the light switch and fumbling for a moment. Seifer's headache didn't stop.
Quistis held a hand to her forehead in a desolate fever, trying wipe away the grief it was causing her to tell Seifer what had happened, "Yes, you did." Simple and to the point, such a cold way to put suicide.
Seifer pulled the IV out of his arm, it was starting to itch as if spiked with flames. His sudden movement caused Quistis to jump and rise to his side. She pressed her finger down upon the hole where the IV had been, clogging the blood within his tormented veins. Her sudden touch had caused Seifer to shudder. He remembered, last thoughts, bitter and disturbed, obscured by alcohol and discontentment, who could ever love you?
Back arched, Seifer pulled away from Quistis, static movements, "Don't touch me." He allowed the blood to trickle, Quistis staring, bewildered at the sight.
Silence came, filled with busy thought, harsh reflection and regret. Seifer didn't know how anything so new, so unreal, so unsure, like his fondness of Quistis, could have compelled him to kill himself. It simply was unreal, and it made him uncomfortable to be in her presence, she couldn't possibly have so much control over his unconscious mind. Stupidity aside, it was simply too much to comprehend, yet it was so easy to give in to.
Quistis wondered what else could be wrong, Seifer before her like a broken child, watching the blood flow out of his minuscule wound. Shying from her touch, from any touch, from any speech. True, he had just learned of his intended, or unintended (perhaps he was too inebriated to understand) suicide attempt. But why wouldn't he want to be comforted. Even Seifer must have a vulnerable piece inside. In his darkest moments he could not let her help, but stay too fucking proud of himself to seek caring? She took a step back, wanting less and less to hurt him. He must be so broken, too broken…
She had left, amassed brown hair spinning to leave without the uttering of a word, a phrase, not even a simply goodbye. Now he was alone, cracked and bruised, waiting to hear something, understand something, comprehend this susceptibility that could not, no, didn't really exist. But all he felt was alone.
A doctor had came, announced him healthy, as well as the fact he had to look forward to partial amnesia, he was fully prepared for any confusion which may be tossed his way. He just wished he could explain, but he couldn't. Weakness is unacceptable. Weakness is for Chickenwuss or Puberty-Boy, not Seifer Alamsy, not the broken knight. He could take anything, he simply could not give a part of himself away…
He pondered what to do, he was to be released in a day, free to roam the world. Free to roam back…to where? He wasn't exactly welcome anywhere, but then again, was he ever?
Depressing thoughts subsided as an unfamiliar girl entered the room. She was about 5"6, blonde hair, blue eyes, and a lopsided smile which didn't quite fit her vixen like clothing. She looked particularly insightful for someone wearing a belt for a skirt and a skimpy tank-top akin in color, crimson. She took slow steps to the side of Seifer's bed, turning to face him. She looked a little like Quistis, veto her recent transition from blonde to brunette and lacking the wisdom about her aura.
The women began to speak, much to Seifer's surprise, "I'm Stacey. You probably don't remember me, seeing as how you were drunk out of your mind, but I was in the car with you." She flashed a reassuring smile, chipped tooth prominently denouncing all others of attention. Seifer stared up bewildered at this new revelation. "I just came, seeing as how you just awoke, to tell you something."
Seifer sighed impatiently, folding two arms behind his head into a classic dispossessed pose, "I'm sorry. Like you said, I was drunk out of my mind and thinking about some things I really shouldn't be thinking about when my judgment is so skewed. Plus, driving wasn't exactly…"
Stacey interrupted, much to Seifer's disbelief, by hugging him, causing the man to retract further into the mattress and try to leave the empty hug. She ignored his reluctance and looked him directly in the eyes, "I just wanted to say I forgive you. Whatever caused you to…you know… must've been bigger then you could control. So don't feel guilty, I'm fine, except the chipped tooth you've been eyeing." She gave a benevolent wink and tossed a yellowed lock of hair back around her face. Slowly she began to leave the room, causing yet another revelation.
Seifer was unable to harness this, this…whatever this feeling was, and all that left him was scared. Intuitively he decided he knew what he must do, leave, he couldn't see Quistis again.
Quistis had collected her wits in the garden, surrounded by shrubbery and at the mercy of the water's edge. The meandering stream had a new meaning, glass, cold…what had been wrong with Seifer, what was wrong with him? He couldn't admit a fault, ever. Even shit for nothing guys like Squall [he's only bad in my story! Otherwise he's great in the beginning of the game] could admit something was wrong. Seifer, pigheaded Seifer. No, he couldn't share his faults, couldn't express his feelings. He led many to think he had no feelings.
That was wrong, Quistis knew crouched up in some distant, untapped corridor of his mind Seifer was crying or hating or, at the very least, needing something. The scar, that damned scar, a constant reminder of his wallowing self or maybe it was an abandoned self. If Seifer had ever cared for something, it tended to blow up in his face.
Ultimecia…
The orphanage…
Quistis almost found herself pitying him, brought back to reality by the hurried rush of the stream, such a menial place in this chaotic world. A haven of self indulgence, if thought could be called that.
Why was he so damn cold? She wanted to be able to help him so much, embrace him until he told her everything…until he explained…until he was finally free, but he had to let her...
Notes: leave it to Seifer to find he's fallen in love with someone and run like hell! Aww, muffin…I am so happy, so forgive me for writing sad things so badly…raver boy (grade twelve whom I am completely and utterly in awe of) remembers what I wore on the first day of school…I can't even remember…awwwww…stalker…that completely off topic note was brought to you by insane hyperactivity at the mercy of somebody else's compliments…