Public Service Announcement: Well, here's the gripping conclusion!
And, allow me to take this opportunity for some free advertising.
If you haven't already, then go check out me and Renegade Seraph's
fic, titled "Theory of a Dead Man". It's really cool, and we're
putting a lot of work into this, so go read it! Well, enough bull
shit, let's get on with the chapter.
Chapter 6
An unmistakable shiver climbed up his spine at the feeling of her lips pressed so gently against his. This certainly wasn't what he had been expecting when he asked Rinoa to develop his pictures, but as she turned and leaned closer to him, he didn't feel the least bit compelled to complain.
As she carefully rested her timid hands against his chest, she began to forget about all the sorrow and pain that had driven her to this kiss in the first place. The only thing she could think of was him, his scent, his warmth, the feel of him so close to her. She briefly wondered if this was what heaven was, an intoxicated state where each physical sense was pleased, and the mind at peace. That's exactly how she felt, loosing herself in a serene haze. That is, until she was suddenly brought back to reality as he gently backed away from her.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" she began immediately. Gone now was her peaceful moment. Now she was left as prey to a sickening embarrassment that caused her cheeks to burn, and her stomach to twist. She fought down the overwhelming urge to run, and tried to face the situation with dignity. "I-I didn't mean to," she stammered.
He quickly shook his head, raising a hand to silence her. "It's okay, really. It was just an accident, right?" he said gently, knowingly giving her a way out of her predicament. He didn't want an awkward situation anymore than she did.
"Right," she said eagerly. "Just an accident." he took notice of the drop in her voice as she realized that by speaking this lie, it would do away with any chance she might've had with him. "Just an accident," she repeated reluctantly.
He nodded, then gestured to the picture in the tray, "Is it ready?"
Snapping out of her painful reverie, she shook her head, then picked the picture up and pinned up onto a wire strung through the air. "No, it has to air," she answered. "Come on, let's go."
He almost didn't want to leave this darkened sanctuary that catered to his mood so well. Strange as it was for him, he didn't like calling it 'just an accident' anymore than she did. But he was a detective, and already he'd gotten too involved with her. He needn't make it worse.
Once they were out the door, Rinoa wandered over to a large bay window at the end of the hall, and seated herself in it, studying intently the earth beyond it. Squall followed behind her, and looked out the window himself, wondering what was so intriguing. Outside the window was the sea, in all its immense glory. It was an outcast day, and the ocean was a solid wall of swirling gray colors. It held a certain beauty, even in its gloominess.
"Sometimes I think of just diving into the ocean," Rinoa spoke suddenly. "Of swimming to the end of the horizon, away from here. I know that I would never reach the horizon. it's like a dream that's always out of one's grasp. I would die in the ocean, lost somewhere in that big void of salty water. But I wouldn't be here, and that's the only thing that matters to me."
Squall was taken aback by her words, unsure of what to say to her suicidal confession. "Rinoa." he began in a quiet voice. "I wish that you wouldn't say things like that," he finished, his voice barely audible.
She glanced over at him and gave a slight smile. "Thank you."
With those words she stood up, and began the journey back to the main hall.
================================================================
"It's obvious that you haven't been listening to me," a voice began from near his bed. "You're a detective, you're supposed to stay away from her. So why don't you?"
Squall opened his eyes slowly, peering through his dark, blurry vision for the source of his rude awakening. The rest of the day had passed uneventfully, Rinoa shyly keeping to her chores, and Squall delving into his case once more. The sunlight had long since lapsed into darkness, and most of the mansion was now peacefully asleep.
"Who's there?" Squall asked groggily, more annoyed than alarmed.
"You know who I am," came the simple reply. "Answer my question."
He rolled over and buried his head beneath a pillow, in no mood for this kind of talk at such an hour. His eyes were shut tightly, and his mind was already slipping back into its unconscious depths when the pillow was pulled from his head, and he felt his visitor take a seat on the bed next to him. His eyes opened slightly as he felt a gentle hand come to rest on his bare shoulder, but his head was turned away, and he didn't bother to look. He couldn't bring himself to.
"You're growing attached to her. That's fine. Just be aware of what you're getting yourself into," she spoke softly, concern ringing clearly in her voice. "Things will get confusing, and murky," she explained. "For a while, there will be no up or down, right or wrong, good or evil. You will find yourself helpless in a void of deception and fear. You will be cast carelessly into a tangled web of lies and broken emotions." There was a long pause, until finally she gripped his shoulder tighter, and asked, "Do you really want to save her?"
"Save who?" he asked quietly. When he received no answer, he finally brought himself to look at her, and was strangely unsurprised at what he saw. It was Rinoa again, or at least it seemed. This was not quite the Rinoa he knew, but rather the one of his hallucinations. She was looking away from him, gazing into a vision unknown to anyone but herself.
"Do you really want to save Rinoa?" she repeated after a few moments of silence.
"Save her from what?"
"From herself."
Squall allowed his eyes to close for a brief moment at these words. What did she mean, from herself? Opening his eyes again, he found that he was alone once more, just as he always was at the end of these hallucinations. He briefly considered heading into town to the nearest doctor, but dismissed the idea. If indeed he was mad, he didn't want everyone to know.
Despite the insanity of his 'imagined' visitor's question, he found it repeating itself over and over in his mind. Did he really want to save her, even if it meant being drawn into the world of deception that he knew lay just beneath the surface of this whole investigation? He sighed and laid back down again, the question for some reason bringing to mind their kiss, earlier that day. Both had reluctantly dismissed it as an accident, but. was there something deeper there?
==================================================================== =
"It's been almost a year," announced Quistis absent-mindedly.
"Almost a year since what?" Selphie questioned that morning at breakfast. She was seated near Quistis at the long oak table, and Squall was seated as far away from the two as he could manage.
"Since my last annual banquet," she replied over a steaming porcelain mug. "I have one every year, for the regional aristocracy. I've been debating over whether or not I would have one this year, with all that's going on, and I've reached my conclusion."
"Which is?" Selphie pressed.
"I've no choice but to have it," she responded proudly. "If the killer seeks to change my life, to keep me reeling with fear, then I refuse to give him what he wants."
Selphie clasped her hands together over her meal and smiled. "I've never been to an aristocratic event before. Is it fun? Is it glamorous?"
"More glamorous than fun. But don't worry. You'll get to judge for yourself in a few days' time. I'll have the invitations sent out immediately. I'll make it a grand event, and you can help me host."
Squall rolled his eyes at the ever-enthusiastic Selphie as she squealed with happiness. Squall was already formulating an excuse not to attend, when Quistis cleared her throat and looked at him pointedly.
"And you, Mr. Leonhart, will have the honor of escorting us both," she said.
"With all due respect," he began.
"No buts," she insisted. "Consider this part of your job."
"I hardly see how escorting you to a party is in any way relevant to the investigation," he replied, his voice at a near growl.
A faint flicker of a smile passed over Quistis' lips. "You'll see." With that, she said no more to him, and instead directed the conversation at Selphie once more. Squall, thoroughly disgusted with this turn of events, stood abruptly from his chair and left the room.
"I sometimes wonder if you'll push him too far," Selphie said. "Maybe you'll make him so mad one day that he'll quit the case."
A sly smile crept over her companions face. "He won't quit, I'm certain of that. I know something that's keeping him here. at first I thought his growing attachment a curse, but now, I see I can use it to my advantage."
"What attachment?"
Quistis only laughed, deciding now was not the time to share with her Squall's growing attraction to a certain raven-haired relative; an attraction she now intended to exploit to it's fullest.
====================================================================
Unbeknownst to the gossiping Quistis and Selphie, Rinoa had heard every word spoken in their conversation, as she had been working in the kitchen right next to the dining room. Her first thoughts were of betrayal. Quistis had promised her there would be no more banquets, not after the incident last year. Though it was true that she had never known Quistis to keep a promise, she thought that perhaps this would be different. Her thoughts, however, were quickly turned to the last relevant words spoken. Squall had grown attached to someone, she had said. But who? Who could possibly be so important as to make him stay and tolerate the injustices this investigation was bringing him, Rinoa wondered. With a sigh she pushed her inquiries aside, and grabbed a tray from the nearby counter top, making her way into the hall. Quistis and Selphie had requested tea in the parlor after breakfast, and if it wasn't there waiting for them, Quistis would get very angry.
As she swung open the door and absent-mindedly stepped into the hall, a voice made her jump, startling her from her deep thoughts.
"Rinoa?"
Her arms jerked in surprise, and her silver tray of steaming liquid, fine china, and small snacks went crashing to the floor. Without even looking at the cause for this accident, she sank to her knees and frantically tried to pick it all up. She stopped suddenly as a hand reached out and began to help her. Her eyes traveled upward until she met with the gaze that she had come to fear since the day before.
"Squall. what are doing here?" she asked, quickly looking away.
"Walking," he replied. "I take it you were doing the same?"
She just nodded, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice and quickly began scooping up the mess they'd made. Once the work was completed, in silence, she lifted the tray, piled with the shattered remnants of the tea set, and said, "Thanks for your help. I have to go now."
With that she hurried away toward the kitchen, leaving a puzzled Squall to follow behind her, more out of curiosity than anything else. Or so he told himself. Her words had been spoken so fast, and emotionless, as if she were trying her best to get away from him. In truth, she was. Ever since the 'accident' in the dark room she was too ashamed to face him, and had been avoiding him ever since. She had been pleased with his concern over her depression, but after looking back on the situation, she was more embarrassed than anything.
"Rinoa, is everything okay?" he asked, following her into the kitchen. Luckily, the only other person in there was one of the chefs, and she quickly left after seeing the strange pair wander in.
"Yeah, everything's fine," she replied hastily. "Just doing my job."
He studied her for a moment then let out a sigh. "I don't believe you, but. I guess it's none of my business."
He had started to walk away, inwardly berating himself for actually showing any concern, when she stepped in front of him, and with an exasperated sigh, said, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's not that anything's wrong, I just." she paused for a moment to consider her words. "Promise me something," she requested suddenly.
He looked at her strangely then asked, "What?"
"That yesterday. that what happened yesterday didn't change anything between us. We're still friends, right?" she asked.
"Friends, huh?" he repeated. Friendship was certainly not anything he was used to, and was dangerous in a case such as this. "Yeah, we're friends," he answered after a moment. "Nothing changed yesterday at all."
She smiled. "Good, okay, I was worried."
He nodded, but avoided looking into her eyes. Lying had never been a practice he was very comfortable with, especially not now. No, things were not the same, and he somehow doubted they ever could be. But still, he lied for her, because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. And for the smile on her face, and the look of relief in her eyes, he felt, it was worth casting aside the truth.
==================================================================== ==
A/N: Well, there's the next chapter. I'll be getting into my fireproof suit now.
Chapter 6
An unmistakable shiver climbed up his spine at the feeling of her lips pressed so gently against his. This certainly wasn't what he had been expecting when he asked Rinoa to develop his pictures, but as she turned and leaned closer to him, he didn't feel the least bit compelled to complain.
As she carefully rested her timid hands against his chest, she began to forget about all the sorrow and pain that had driven her to this kiss in the first place. The only thing she could think of was him, his scent, his warmth, the feel of him so close to her. She briefly wondered if this was what heaven was, an intoxicated state where each physical sense was pleased, and the mind at peace. That's exactly how she felt, loosing herself in a serene haze. That is, until she was suddenly brought back to reality as he gently backed away from her.
"Oh no, I'm so sorry!" she began immediately. Gone now was her peaceful moment. Now she was left as prey to a sickening embarrassment that caused her cheeks to burn, and her stomach to twist. She fought down the overwhelming urge to run, and tried to face the situation with dignity. "I-I didn't mean to," she stammered.
He quickly shook his head, raising a hand to silence her. "It's okay, really. It was just an accident, right?" he said gently, knowingly giving her a way out of her predicament. He didn't want an awkward situation anymore than she did.
"Right," she said eagerly. "Just an accident." he took notice of the drop in her voice as she realized that by speaking this lie, it would do away with any chance she might've had with him. "Just an accident," she repeated reluctantly.
He nodded, then gestured to the picture in the tray, "Is it ready?"
Snapping out of her painful reverie, she shook her head, then picked the picture up and pinned up onto a wire strung through the air. "No, it has to air," she answered. "Come on, let's go."
He almost didn't want to leave this darkened sanctuary that catered to his mood so well. Strange as it was for him, he didn't like calling it 'just an accident' anymore than she did. But he was a detective, and already he'd gotten too involved with her. He needn't make it worse.
Once they were out the door, Rinoa wandered over to a large bay window at the end of the hall, and seated herself in it, studying intently the earth beyond it. Squall followed behind her, and looked out the window himself, wondering what was so intriguing. Outside the window was the sea, in all its immense glory. It was an outcast day, and the ocean was a solid wall of swirling gray colors. It held a certain beauty, even in its gloominess.
"Sometimes I think of just diving into the ocean," Rinoa spoke suddenly. "Of swimming to the end of the horizon, away from here. I know that I would never reach the horizon. it's like a dream that's always out of one's grasp. I would die in the ocean, lost somewhere in that big void of salty water. But I wouldn't be here, and that's the only thing that matters to me."
Squall was taken aback by her words, unsure of what to say to her suicidal confession. "Rinoa." he began in a quiet voice. "I wish that you wouldn't say things like that," he finished, his voice barely audible.
She glanced over at him and gave a slight smile. "Thank you."
With those words she stood up, and began the journey back to the main hall.
================================================================
"It's obvious that you haven't been listening to me," a voice began from near his bed. "You're a detective, you're supposed to stay away from her. So why don't you?"
Squall opened his eyes slowly, peering through his dark, blurry vision for the source of his rude awakening. The rest of the day had passed uneventfully, Rinoa shyly keeping to her chores, and Squall delving into his case once more. The sunlight had long since lapsed into darkness, and most of the mansion was now peacefully asleep.
"Who's there?" Squall asked groggily, more annoyed than alarmed.
"You know who I am," came the simple reply. "Answer my question."
He rolled over and buried his head beneath a pillow, in no mood for this kind of talk at such an hour. His eyes were shut tightly, and his mind was already slipping back into its unconscious depths when the pillow was pulled from his head, and he felt his visitor take a seat on the bed next to him. His eyes opened slightly as he felt a gentle hand come to rest on his bare shoulder, but his head was turned away, and he didn't bother to look. He couldn't bring himself to.
"You're growing attached to her. That's fine. Just be aware of what you're getting yourself into," she spoke softly, concern ringing clearly in her voice. "Things will get confusing, and murky," she explained. "For a while, there will be no up or down, right or wrong, good or evil. You will find yourself helpless in a void of deception and fear. You will be cast carelessly into a tangled web of lies and broken emotions." There was a long pause, until finally she gripped his shoulder tighter, and asked, "Do you really want to save her?"
"Save who?" he asked quietly. When he received no answer, he finally brought himself to look at her, and was strangely unsurprised at what he saw. It was Rinoa again, or at least it seemed. This was not quite the Rinoa he knew, but rather the one of his hallucinations. She was looking away from him, gazing into a vision unknown to anyone but herself.
"Do you really want to save Rinoa?" she repeated after a few moments of silence.
"Save her from what?"
"From herself."
Squall allowed his eyes to close for a brief moment at these words. What did she mean, from herself? Opening his eyes again, he found that he was alone once more, just as he always was at the end of these hallucinations. He briefly considered heading into town to the nearest doctor, but dismissed the idea. If indeed he was mad, he didn't want everyone to know.
Despite the insanity of his 'imagined' visitor's question, he found it repeating itself over and over in his mind. Did he really want to save her, even if it meant being drawn into the world of deception that he knew lay just beneath the surface of this whole investigation? He sighed and laid back down again, the question for some reason bringing to mind their kiss, earlier that day. Both had reluctantly dismissed it as an accident, but. was there something deeper there?
==================================================================== =
"It's been almost a year," announced Quistis absent-mindedly.
"Almost a year since what?" Selphie questioned that morning at breakfast. She was seated near Quistis at the long oak table, and Squall was seated as far away from the two as he could manage.
"Since my last annual banquet," she replied over a steaming porcelain mug. "I have one every year, for the regional aristocracy. I've been debating over whether or not I would have one this year, with all that's going on, and I've reached my conclusion."
"Which is?" Selphie pressed.
"I've no choice but to have it," she responded proudly. "If the killer seeks to change my life, to keep me reeling with fear, then I refuse to give him what he wants."
Selphie clasped her hands together over her meal and smiled. "I've never been to an aristocratic event before. Is it fun? Is it glamorous?"
"More glamorous than fun. But don't worry. You'll get to judge for yourself in a few days' time. I'll have the invitations sent out immediately. I'll make it a grand event, and you can help me host."
Squall rolled his eyes at the ever-enthusiastic Selphie as she squealed with happiness. Squall was already formulating an excuse not to attend, when Quistis cleared her throat and looked at him pointedly.
"And you, Mr. Leonhart, will have the honor of escorting us both," she said.
"With all due respect," he began.
"No buts," she insisted. "Consider this part of your job."
"I hardly see how escorting you to a party is in any way relevant to the investigation," he replied, his voice at a near growl.
A faint flicker of a smile passed over Quistis' lips. "You'll see." With that, she said no more to him, and instead directed the conversation at Selphie once more. Squall, thoroughly disgusted with this turn of events, stood abruptly from his chair and left the room.
"I sometimes wonder if you'll push him too far," Selphie said. "Maybe you'll make him so mad one day that he'll quit the case."
A sly smile crept over her companions face. "He won't quit, I'm certain of that. I know something that's keeping him here. at first I thought his growing attachment a curse, but now, I see I can use it to my advantage."
"What attachment?"
Quistis only laughed, deciding now was not the time to share with her Squall's growing attraction to a certain raven-haired relative; an attraction she now intended to exploit to it's fullest.
====================================================================
Unbeknownst to the gossiping Quistis and Selphie, Rinoa had heard every word spoken in their conversation, as she had been working in the kitchen right next to the dining room. Her first thoughts were of betrayal. Quistis had promised her there would be no more banquets, not after the incident last year. Though it was true that she had never known Quistis to keep a promise, she thought that perhaps this would be different. Her thoughts, however, were quickly turned to the last relevant words spoken. Squall had grown attached to someone, she had said. But who? Who could possibly be so important as to make him stay and tolerate the injustices this investigation was bringing him, Rinoa wondered. With a sigh she pushed her inquiries aside, and grabbed a tray from the nearby counter top, making her way into the hall. Quistis and Selphie had requested tea in the parlor after breakfast, and if it wasn't there waiting for them, Quistis would get very angry.
As she swung open the door and absent-mindedly stepped into the hall, a voice made her jump, startling her from her deep thoughts.
"Rinoa?"
Her arms jerked in surprise, and her silver tray of steaming liquid, fine china, and small snacks went crashing to the floor. Without even looking at the cause for this accident, she sank to her knees and frantically tried to pick it all up. She stopped suddenly as a hand reached out and began to help her. Her eyes traveled upward until she met with the gaze that she had come to fear since the day before.
"Squall. what are doing here?" she asked, quickly looking away.
"Walking," he replied. "I take it you were doing the same?"
She just nodded, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice and quickly began scooping up the mess they'd made. Once the work was completed, in silence, she lifted the tray, piled with the shattered remnants of the tea set, and said, "Thanks for your help. I have to go now."
With that she hurried away toward the kitchen, leaving a puzzled Squall to follow behind her, more out of curiosity than anything else. Or so he told himself. Her words had been spoken so fast, and emotionless, as if she were trying her best to get away from him. In truth, she was. Ever since the 'accident' in the dark room she was too ashamed to face him, and had been avoiding him ever since. She had been pleased with his concern over her depression, but after looking back on the situation, she was more embarrassed than anything.
"Rinoa, is everything okay?" he asked, following her into the kitchen. Luckily, the only other person in there was one of the chefs, and she quickly left after seeing the strange pair wander in.
"Yeah, everything's fine," she replied hastily. "Just doing my job."
He studied her for a moment then let out a sigh. "I don't believe you, but. I guess it's none of my business."
He had started to walk away, inwardly berating himself for actually showing any concern, when she stepped in front of him, and with an exasperated sigh, said, "Wait, I'm sorry. It's not that anything's wrong, I just." she paused for a moment to consider her words. "Promise me something," she requested suddenly.
He looked at her strangely then asked, "What?"
"That yesterday. that what happened yesterday didn't change anything between us. We're still friends, right?" she asked.
"Friends, huh?" he repeated. Friendship was certainly not anything he was used to, and was dangerous in a case such as this. "Yeah, we're friends," he answered after a moment. "Nothing changed yesterday at all."
She smiled. "Good, okay, I was worried."
He nodded, but avoided looking into her eyes. Lying had never been a practice he was very comfortable with, especially not now. No, things were not the same, and he somehow doubted they ever could be. But still, he lied for her, because he knew it was what she wanted to hear. And for the smile on her face, and the look of relief in her eyes, he felt, it was worth casting aside the truth.
==================================================================== ==
A/N: Well, there's the next chapter. I'll be getting into my fireproof suit now.