Chapter 13
"If clothes make the man, then naked people have little or no influence to society." - Oscar Wilde
The rain didn't stop and it had grown worse. Much worse. It became so violent that the town had feared their roofs might take to the air, and so everyone locked anything with an opening to their homes. And any person would be insane to set out to sea during a storm.
And Seifer was swimming naked and definitely out of his mind.
By the time he noticed it had grown into a full storm he was already halfway to FH.
Even as his arms and legs were tired and his breathing became more than labored, he pushed himself to go back. He was ready to take whatever the ocean threw at him. The cold added to his difficulty had made his body wrack in shudders. The wind howled behind his ears, whispering that he wasn't going to make it. But by God, he was going to try. He had enough force to drive him to make it. No mere water was going to kill him and damn it all if he allowed that. And most especially, he's not going to die in a squall.
The thought just made him swim faster. But it seems the sudden upsurge of water became more than just an obstacle but rather, a ridicule on his pathetic struggle with nature.
He was swimming more going back than he did going in. He might as well have been a hundred miles away. The shore was coming into view every few times when a wave would allow him to see it; but it was still too far. He was tired; he was at least going to admit that.
The tide was higher and the current more intense. Instead of pushing him to shore, it had thrust him deep under, preventing him from surfacing for air. The sea had engulfed him whole. His arms flailed to float himself up, and his legs kicked wildly, but the waves had made sure he stayed under water.
Seifer felt his body weaken.
It was dark. He saw nothing but pitch darkness under the freezing sea. It was frightening. Not the cold darkness, but mostly, the nothingness. And that was where he thought his life was going to end. With nothing and the cold darkness. Nobody knew where he was, nobody was aware he was drowning.
Probably come morning, they'll just discover his dead carcass washed up on shore.
He felt agonizingly helpless.
But he had one last thing to hold on to. He still had the strength of his mind. He wasn't going to die. He can't leave this world without leaving some sort of mark he'd made for himself. A mark he can be proud of; a mark everyone will be proud of. He wasn't going to let the ocean beat him, not after traveling over this tub for over five years. And he wasn't going to die from a 'Squall'.
And those as his driving force, he drew all the remaining strength in him and kicked with all the fury and desperation in his body. His arms weaving in all directions through the water, pushing himself up, fighting, struggling. He wasn't going to fail.
It almost seemed like a miracle when his head, finally emerged from the water. He sucked in air, precious air. He had won. Or so he thought. Another gigantic wave was coming forth, and he'll be damned if he's going to go under again.
Seifer propelled his arms to race against the oncoming current. As long as he had ample oxygen, he'll make it. He was almost to the shore. He could almost make out the white sands that separated the water from the land. He swam with the ferocity of a man with a mission.
But it looks as if his mission was about to fail, when the surf caught up with him. He sucked in as much air as his lung could take before the sea swallowed him again. He was going to hang on. Damn right he was going to. He'd hang on for all eternity if he had to.
And then the miracle of all miracles happened. A pair of slender arms enclosed around him, drawing him to the shallow ends. She intended to save him.
Then he felt the long threads of hair, tickling his face, his neck. It was too dark to make out a face. But one thing was clear.
It was a woman. Every part of her that pressed against him had him told him so. He was being rescued by a mermaid. He didn't see legs or fins to come to that conclusion. To him, she was just a faceless mermaid.
Seifer didn't care where she came from, he held on to her for dear life. She was leading him to the shore, keeping the both of them submerged had made it easier for them to swim a bit faster than they would have on the surface, where they were open to the crashing waves.
She seems to know which way to steer and so Seifer trusted her enough to expect to touch land soon.
And touch earth he did. At last, his fingers felt the familiar coarseness of sand under him as his outstretched arms continued to paddle in the shallow ends. It almost felt like forever when they had finally crashed on the sand in a heap.
He breathed in a lungful of air. He was going to savor it tonight. Because even if he survived the perilous ocean, it looks as if something else was bound to kill him instead; either an attack of pneumonia, as his lungs seemed to be burning a hundred degrees, or of shock
The woman was no mermaid, but nothing more than Quistis.
"You…" she paused to pant. "…Are…CRAZY!"
He turned his face to the side and looked at her unpretentiously. "What I am…is naked," he said. The water lapping at his back was cold and he needed to let her know that he was cold.
"I…here," Quistis looked away diffidently and removed her soaked coat and draped it over him. It didn't help of course, but it would cover him for now. She looked around for his coat, doubtless soaked through as well, because hers was much too short over him.
She spotted the infamous gray coat dangling dependently on a tree branch, probably whipped by the storm. She turned back to Seifer and whispered, "Stay here."
"Don't go," he got out.
She steadied him with a hand before she stood up. "I'll be back. I'm just going to get your coat."
Seifer settled back into the sand and waited for her to return. He was so tired, and so cold, he just wanted to fall asleep. Nothing sounded so lovely in years. His lids slowly glided over his eyes ready to fall into deep slumber.
"Seifer, wake up!" Something heavy landed on his back. He opened his eyes and recognized his coat sitting on top of him.
"You're back."
"Of course I'm back, now put on your coat and get to your feet," she ordered, all the while pulling him up from his arms.
He silently did as he was told, but the getting-on-his-feet part was a little more difficult. His legs were wobbly, and his head was spinning in a thousand different directions. The ground swayed under him and most especially, he was still cold. Every time he inhaled, it felt like a sting.
Seifer shivered. He never shivered. But damn it, he couldn't help it. Then he faltered in his steps, and Quistis had to hold him. She became his bolster on their walk towards Balamb. He was going to be sick. He knew he was just going to be absolutely sick when he was seized by a wave of coughs, the deep hacking kind that rumbled down in his chest. His throat felt like it had been ripped by a razor blade.
"Seifer, are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he gasped, jerking slightly while he was coughing.
"You don't sound fine."
"Just a headache, that's all," he said with a wince. But damn, his lungs felt sore. He released another fit of coughs, this batch was a lot worse than earlier.
"That didn't sound like your head," she said, giving him what she obviously hoped was an angry look. But it didn't look like an angry look. In truth, she looked terribly concerned.
"Probably moved," he muttered.
"We have to get you to bed."
He grinned. "Will you join me?"
She lurched back. "Now I know you're feverish."
He lifted his hand to feel his forehead, but he smacked his nose instead. "Ow!" he yelped.
Quistis winced in sympathy.
Finally, his hand made it's way to his forehead. "Hmmm, maybe I'm a bit hot."
His condition was horribly familiar to her and a man's health was at stake, so Quistis reached out and touched her hand to his brow. It was burning. "You need to get out of those wet clothes," she said.
Seifer looked down as if forgetting he doesn't have anything on underneath that wet coat. "Uh-huh," he murmured thoughtfully. He began to remove the only clothing he had on.
"Not now!" she barked.
"You know, I'm usually more impressive, but the weather…" he trailed off, seeing that she caught his meaning.
Quistis removed her hold on him. "You're sick. Sick, sick, sick!" she ousted.
"I'm beginning to believe that now," he drawled.
"I'm not going to say anything anymore. I'm shutting up and I don't care if you say something," she stated indignantly.
"Smart girl."
She didn't say anything. She did as she said and kept quiet. They walked to Balamb that way. Not saying a word to each other. Naturally, he wasn't going to say something until she cut away from her silence. He was going to let her break first.
It was still hard for him to acknowledge that she was his savior tonight. Not that he couldn't swallow being saved by a woman, just the fact that he didn't expect a lifesaver to be in the form of Quistis Trepe. The gods must've thought he was truly desperate to live and so they sent one of their own.
Dear God! What is he thinking?
He slapped himself.
"What is wrong with you?" she snapped. They were nearing the Balamb Hotel, and she had to make sure she wasn't bringing in a lunatic. That would only cause the staff to turn him away.
"Nothing."
She quirked her head to the side and asked, "Why did you smack yourself then?"
"I thought you said you weren't going to talk?" he shot back.
Quistis turned her nose up, refusing to be caught in his bait. "Hmph, I shouldn't be surprised if you shoot yourself, you were crazy enough to dunk yourself in the ocean in this weather."
Seifer just closed his eyes and shook his head. Quistis was smart enough to interpret the action to mean Don't remind me. He was obviously trying to avoid touching the sensitive spot of the conversation. Maybe he really was too weak to even talk about such things. Why he'd run off, or why for heaven's sake was he trying to kill himself.
"Well, I think you should stay at the hotel. It's…" she stopped and studied Seifer.
He was shaking uncontrollably.
"Seifer, are you okay?"
He just shook his head and shook some more. She could hear his teeth knocking with each other. His condition was more serious than she actually thought. She had to get him inside, out of the rain, immediately. She held Seifer at the elbows and led him within Balamb Hotel. It was dark except for the candles that illuminated the facade. Lightning must have struck the power and put out the electricity. Great! Their heaters couldn't work.
She guided Seifer to the sofa in the lobby and told him, "Wait here. I'll be back."
But he didn't seem to have heard her. His eyes was opening and closing. He was between unconscious and awake. It worried her even more.
Quistis skidded towards the reception desk, but the maitre'd had his back against her. She was about to make her presence known but she heard him say in a very peevish tone, "Phew! Something smells like a wet dog."
This rankled her. "Excuse me," she said in the most high and mighty tone she could manage.
The maitre'd jumped, spinning around as if someone had lit a fire under his feet. When he saw her, an embarrassed smile slunk automatically to his lips. "Oh! I'm sorry ma'am I didn't notice you there. Will you be needing a room tonight?"
She was about to say that it was the most ridiculous question he could ask. "Yes. Preferably one with a fireplace," she demanded.
"Of course, I apologize on behalf of the management. The outage was beyond our control." He began to write their reservation on a pad. "One room right?"
"Yes. I'm not staying, but my uh…friend," she pointed towards Seifer, who was huddled in a coughing spasm. "…Needs a room right away."
"Oh, right, right. I'll finish your registration later. Please follow me."
"Let me get the occupant first," she said, as if she was speaking to a person of considerably small intellect.
"Oh, right, right."
She moved towards Seifer in haste, making sure he hasn't gone completely asleep. She placed a hand on his shoulder and shook him gently, "Seifer, come on. Let's go."
"It's so cold," he said unthinkingly.
"I know, we'll get you warmed up soon. Let's go." She hauled him up to his feet and they made their way towards the elevator. The whole time she held him, she felt the tremors from his body through hers. He gripped at her as if he was trying to absorb all the heat he can. His hands felt like ice on her skin.
She knew the signs of a fever. Either the person was clammy and feeling incredibly hot, or like Seifer, frigid and feeling nothing but coldness.
"Here you are. If you need anything, dial the number sign then nine," the maitre'd said, opening the door to a room and offering her a lit candle.
"Thank you." She grasped the candle and led Seifer inside, closing the door behind her.
She motioned for Seifer to get under the covers, but he seemed to have regained a little bit of himself. "You need to get out of those clothes,"
"Promise not to laugh?" he asked lazily.
"I thought you've gone delirious."
His eyes took on that languid look, "I still might be."
"Get yourself in that bed, then take that blasted coat off. You were complaining how cold it was earlier and I don't think you even know half of what you're saying," she said confidently.
Seifer did as he was told. Quistis sighed with relief as he finally carried himself to the bed and dove under the sheets, then removed the coat and let it fall in a messy heap on the floor. Now, she thought disturbingly, he was naked under the covers. Just as he was naked under the waters.
Quistis shook her head and took notice of the room. It was a lovely room, warm and masculine and very comfortable. She placed the candelabra over a leather-bound book sitting on top of the bedside table, then returned her attention to the man lying on the bed.
It nearly broke her heart to see a man of his build brought down by infirmity. He was shivering under the covers, and she couldn't stop herself from reaching down to pull the covers to his chin.
Then his hand suddenly shot out and grasped her wrist. "Don't leave."
"Seifer, I…"
"I heard you said you weren't going to stay," he said with closed eyes.
"We-we only have one room," she whispered.
"I don't care."
"Seifer, you're delirious. You don't know what you're asking," she said in the most reasonable tone of voice.
"Stay," he said, finally opening his eyes to look at hers. "Stay."
Something in those dark green depths told her he was actually asking for something else. He didn't want to be alone if he thought he was going to die.
He must be more feverish than she'd estimated. She reached a hand to brush away a stray hair over his brows. "Seifer, you're going to be fine," she said, as if she were speaking to a child. "Tomorrow, you won't even remember what you've said tonight."
"Then kiss me."
She pulled herself back. "What?"
"It's so cold. Kiss me," he mumbled, pulling at her waist.
"Seifer, you're not yourself. Just go to sleep and I'll see you in the morning."
"You said I won't remember. Kiss me," he repeated and closed his eyes. "I won't remember."
Just as she was afraid of. She knew Seifer wasn't going to jump at her and make an untoward advance given his indisposed state. No, the danger lay squarely within herself. Frankly, she was terrified to spend another moment in his company.
Funny how he was asking her for something she'd already given. It was all too convenient for him. She remembered their first kiss so well, while he slept through it and he didn't even know he had stuck his tongue in…never mind. And now here he was asking for the same convenience at his disposal where he would likely forget the whole thing, while she goes on living with the memory of it. The irony couldn't be crueler.
"Kiss me," he said again. But he didn't open his eyes.
Quistis leaned in closer. Even by the light of the solitary candle, she could see his eyeballs moving quickly under his lids. It was bizarre, she thought, to see another person dream.
"Kiss me," he breathed again.
Her heart fluttering wildly, she leaned down and brushed the barest, lightest, most gentle of kisses on his lips. She lingered there for a while as his body had ceased quaking. It wasn't the sort of moment she wanted him to remember in the morning. But then, just when she was convinced that he'd settled into a deep sleep, his hand moved over her cheeks and he deepened the kiss.
He was beginning to pull her down with him to the bed. Her senses came back and she yanked herself away.
"Seifer, stop!"
His eyes fluttered open and from the steamy look he wore, he was still swimming in delirium. She moved herself away from him. Away from the bed.
"I'm…I'm going to start the fire," she blurted.
Seifer smiled then slowly closed his eyes. "I rather thought we already started."
A/N: I'm late, I'm late, I'm late! I'm really sorry. I know I promised Aug. 24, but I had to edit quite a few in this chapter. Don't worry, next week will be update-mania. Chapter 14 will be posted on Monday, Aug. 26. Thank you all readers!!!