Author's Notes: It's true; the characters will seem very OOC, but there's a reason for it. This is a later chapter for my seiftis story for my seiftis fansite. But with my main computer gone, I haven't been able to work on the early chapters and this one just kind of came to me last night and I couldn't let my muse get away. It's just a rough draft, but I thought I'd get some feedback since I haven't written fiction in such a long time.
Characters belong to Square-Enix. Song that is sort of used is by Leann Rimes. I would suggest listening to it while reading this. An MP3 of the song can be obtained from my seiftis website, but since this site won't let me post the address, ask and ye shall receive.
"Selphie thought that we should use pastel colors for the bridesmaid dresses and she of course has to have yellow. And you'll be in pink and Elle would look oh, so pretty in green. Don't you think?"
"What? Oh. Of course, Rin. You and Selphie are master coordinators. I'm sure the dresses will look fabulous."
I hadn't really been paying attention to a word she said. I knew she was spouting off some nonsense about dresses, so did the rest really matter?
No, of course not.
"Quisty," Hyne, I hated when she referred to me that way. It implied that we were close enough for nicknames, but she insisted I call her Rin, so I suppose it holds fair that she do the same to me. "Are you ill? You don't seem like yourself at all..."
And you know me well enough to make that call?
"Yes, Rinoa, I'm fine. I just didn't sleep well last night." Well, it wasn't exactly a lie. I didn't sleep well. She doesn't need to know the reason behind it.
"Oh, Quisty! And here I am talking your ear off. Why don't you go back to your dorm to try and rest? The rehearsal is tonight, after all, and I don't need my maid of honor falling over from exhaustion!" Rinoa winked at me and gave me a gentle shove towards the dormitories.
"Well, if you insist." I offer my version of a smile and start the trek to my dorm room.
It's true; I'm exhausted, but it isn't my fault. It isn't entirely my fault. Seifer and his nightly visits have made perfectly certain that my evenings are kept busy. True, I could have asked him to leave and perhaps I should have.
So, why didn't I? Was it really such a hard thing to do?
I can just never say no to him. Strong-willed Quistis Iselyn Trepe is a weakling when it comes to nothing, unless it's a nothing called Seifer Almasy.
It is just for comfort. We found solace in each other that night; it's just sex.
So why doesn't it feel like it's just anything?
I finally reach my room, but I only lean against the doorframe for a minute; I have a sneaking suspicion that Seifer is waiting for me on the other side. I gather enough strength and finally unlock the door, stepping inside.
Normally, he would be waiting for me on my bed so when I didn't see him there, I figured I was alone.
"A bath. A long, hot bath. That's what I need."
Stripping off my clothes as I head into the bathroom, I turn on the facets and let the water pour into the porcelain tub. I hesitantly stick the tip of my toe in, testing the temperature.
Five degrees below scalding. Just the way I like it.
I slowly climb in, sliding down inch by inch until I'm resting comfortably in the liquid blanket. I reach over and grab my Vanilla Sugar bubblebath off of the table and as an afterthought, pour a generous amount into the bath.
Hardened mercenary, my ass. I love my bubble baths.
It doesn't matter what is going on in my life, how miserable I feel or how ill I may be, a hot bath can cure all of those things.
In spite of all of that, there is still a hefty downside.
It leaves too much room for thinking and not just any thinking; it's always thinking of the things I try to avoid thinking.
Seifer.
I've been avoiding the subject for weeks now, ever since he asked for an answer.
He loved me. He had said it with such passion, I couldn't deny it. He had looked so vulnerable afterwards, like a small child waiting for loving words from his mother. I wanted to say it back, praise my love for him so loud even the Heavens could hear, but try as I might, nothing would come out.
I watched it happen; I could see his heart break in his eyes. And then as if nothing had ever happened, he pulled me into his arms and kissed me fierce and breathless.
It was too much like that first night, and it has been ever since.
"Seifer, how'd you learn to draw me to the cliff just to push me off the edge?"
Suddenly the bath didn't seem very appealing so I climbed out and grabbed my oversided terricloth towel off of the rack and padded into my bedroom.
Pulling back the covers on my bed, I threw the towel on the floor and climbed in, wrapping the comforter around my body.
Caught in that odd twilight of almost sleep, I had an almost waking dream.
Feeling him rubbing up against my skin, causing my breath to catch in my throat. I can almost feel his lips tracing down my neck. It's odd how something so simple in nature could be so erotic and scare me to death.
His hands, rough from the things only a warrior can ever know, gliding over my still damp skin.
My...damp skin?
That did it. My eyes shoot open and glance around the darkened room in a panic.
Then I feel hot breath brushing against my earlobe.
"Hey, kitten." His tone is unusually playful.
His lips trail down my ear and along my neck, his tongue darting out along one of the areas he's come to know makes me shiver.
"Seifer, I..." He doesn't stop. He continues tracing along my neck, over my clavicle, slowly kissing along my jaw and his lips finally seek out my own.
The kiss isn't forceful. It isn't about desire or power. It's soft, tender. There's a hint of something else, too.
I can feel pain. His pain.
"Let's just dream tonight." I smile faintly at his words and my hands start their age-old dance over his skin, deftly unbuttoning and unzipping his various articles of clothing.
Jacket, shirt, pants, boxers, off they all go, falling with a soft thud to the floor.
He rests above me, propping himself up on his elbows. He stares at me and I stare back.
One thing no one can deny, he has the most beautiful eyes a person could hope to see. There's so much reflected in them: pain, sadness, lust, anger, tiny flickers of hope and longing.
Seifer is so many things, but the one thing that no one would have guessed or ever even wanted to see is that he is human. He aches. He aches for acceptance, vengeance and all things that the rest of us are guilty of and lust after.
If anyone would watch him long enough, they would see that storm brewing in his eyes.
They would see the calm waiting behind it, too.
He gazes down at me, with a look asking for silent permission.
It's granted when I guide him inside of me.
Any other time, we would have been bruised with the roughness of our lovemaking. Any other time, we would have been in an endless struggle for dominance.
Any other time, we weren't a man and a woman fighting to show what we felt through sheer physical passion.
Any other time doesn't mean a thing now.
Our bodies grow in sync, his gliding effortlessly along mine. I arch against him, my fingernails digging slightly into his back as he picks up momentum.
This is a primitive dance we've mastered.
He pulls, I push away. I fight, and I lose.
This pleasure isn't physical; it comes from somewhere much deeper than that. It coils around every inch of my body, slowly gathering itself and waiting for an exquisite kinda of explosion.
My eyes close of their own accord; his lips kiss my eyelids, begging them to open. They comply, brushing open just far enough to watch him.
He moves above me faster now, his body as well as my own needing release.
Our breath comes out in short pants now, moans echoing through the small room.
My body tenses suddenly and forcefully and I give in; I give in to the sweetest surrender. His name is ripped from my throat as I hold onto him, shaking with passion.
He falls limp against me mere seconds later, quite sated.
I slide out from underneath him, entwining my legs around his and resting my head on his chest. His arms snake around my waist and hold me tenderly.
His body relaxes against mine and I can feel his breath growing even.
"Seifer?"
"Hm..?" I smile at his sleepy tone.
"You kill me."
"Wha?" He sits up now, looking at me perplexed.
"I mean, when you hold me like this. The way you look at me like I'm your world." I reach out to touch him; I need to touch him. I can't have him fade away from me now. "Like this won't hurt." I barely whisper the last part.
I hear him sigh and shift on the bed. "I can't promise you that it won't hurt. I can't give you the world; I can't promise you anything, Quistis, you know that. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to get as far away from you as I can." He brushes my hair away from my face. "It was chance we even met each other again, but we did. True, we were both wasted off our asses that night, but it really doesn't matter how we got here, does it? The point is that we got here."
He's right; it doesn't matter how we got here. It doesn't matter that we should be the best of enemies. We aren't. We're here.
To hell with consequences.