See first page for details
I fixed chapter three, and rewrote some parts. My computer was totally flipping out, and I replaced the content about 80 times, but it just didn't take. Argh. -_-'
A Fate Worse Than Death
Chapter 4
3rd Person:
Night was falling over Garden, lights clicking on one by one as the sun finally died, the overall effect looking much like fireflies. Soft laughter sounded from the Training Center; a girl and her boyfriend, aglow in the neon lights.
Seifer sighed, watching their shadowy forms from his window, and remembered sex. It had been almost two days, and he was starting to get jumpy. The silhouettes suddenly disappeared, drawn down by the gravity of love, two fading shadows against a brightly colored background.[1]
His chair creaked as he rolled back the few inches to his desk, scrolling aimlessly across gunblade web pages, keeping an eye out for any mention of the Hyperion model.
Squall sat on the floor by his feet, arms wrapped around his knees, which were drawn tightly against his chest, upon which he rested his head. His breathing was slow and steady, and not for the first time Seifer wondered what he was doing. Frowning, he looked back to the computer screen, but his eyes wouldn't focus, so he looked back to Squall. Then back to the computer screen. Back to Squall. Computer screen. Squall. Computer screen.
"Squall, what are you doing?" The blonde sighed, giving in to curiosity. His rival sat bolt upright, hair disheveled and eyes wide in surprise.
"Sleeping!" the answer came out loud and rushed, as if caught doing something wrong. Seifer just stared.
"Are you tired?"
The brunette blinked, relaxing, and nodded a little, head drooping to rest on his knees again.
"Why didn't you tell me?" He was only a little annoyed when Squall didn't answer, and he nudged the other man with his boot.
"Leonhart?"
No answer. He was asleep again. Sighing, Seifer shut off his computer, and reached down to pick up his roommate, trying his very best not to think bad thoughts about carrying someone to bed. He almost expected Squall to wake up and demand to be put down, but he didn't, and only continued sleeping.
Nearing the bed, Seifer paused, an odd thought occurring to him. He liked carrying Squall, whether it was because he looked like a girl, or that he was just a very attractive guy, Seifer was unsure; he just didn't want to put him down. It was strange to admit, but the brunette was nice to be around when he was asleep, and not being an ass. So Seifer just stood for a moment, savoring the not-too-heavy, yet not-too-light weight, the soft sound of breathing, and the head of silver-brown hair resting against his chest that was Squall.
But then his rival stirred, and Seifer hastily placed him on his bed, eyes lingering on the combat boots, mentally debating whether to take them off.
His eyes traveled back up to Squall's face, back down to his boots, and again once more, before shrugging and turning back to his own bed, barely three feet away.
His nightclothes, shiny grey silk pajama pants, lay haphazardly on the quilt, and he picked them up, shrugging first out of his trench coat, and then the rest of his clothes, before stepping into the cool silk.
Behind him, bedsprings creaked, and Seifer turned quickly, but it was only Squall, shifting in his sleep so as to face the window. Green eyes traveled down the smooth curves of the leather-clad body, resting on the unnervingly shapely hips and long legs, and it was almost too much to not flip the younger man over and straddle him right there.
Seifer frowned, since when have I been so attracted to Leonhart? And he sighed again and climbed under the covers, falling almost instantly asleep.
~*~*~
His dreams were erratic and nonsensical, broken up into little fragments of memories and fantasy. The only one he remembered was the last:
Squall stood on a barren plain, hair ruffled by an unseen wind. There were no plants, no people; only dark grey cement as far as the eye could see. Suddenly ice began to twine up his legs, and he brought his arms, previously hidden behind his back, forward; wrists up.
Blood flowed in rivers from long white scars, streaming down his pale skin to drip onto the floor, forming small red puddles in which danced unfamiliar faces.
"Help me," Squall whispered, just as the ice overtook his face, and there was a sound like a drum.
Blue-green eyes shot open, and Seifer sat upright. Something was wrong.
Fumbling for the light switch, he squinted as the room was flooded with light, blinking rapidly to adjust his eyes.
His gaze fell immediately to Squall's bed; empty, and then he noticed the tugging sensation in the back of his mind. Throwing back the covers, Seifer bolted out of bed, into the living room.
Wheezing caught his attention, along with the occasional strangled cough, and his eyes searched the darkness for the source. It was then that he saw it.
Squall was leaning heavily on the kitchen doorframe, clinging to it with shaking limbs, his breath coming in shallow gasps. In the space of a heartbeat Seifer had appeared by his side, keeping him upright with one arm and holding Squall's arms above his head to aid in breathing with the other.
As soon as the other man's breathing had evened out, he was spun around, and found himself caught full-force by a glare.
"What did we agree, about stunts like this?" Seifer hissed, "Are you suicidal, or something?" When there was no answer, he shook Squall a little.
"Hey! Focus. I ask you something, and you…?" the question hung in the air as the blonde waited for an answer.
"Hate this." Soft. Said more to the floor than his face.
"What?"
"I hate this!" Squall yelled, pushing away from Seifer and turning quickly, slamming his fist into the wall with such force that it left a dent. The other man just stared for a moment, watching as the brunette didn't move from the position; one hand half-embedded in the wall, the other flat against it, steadying himself. His breath was coming hard and fast again, but not from a spell.
As Seifer watched, Squall's open hand curled into a fist, and he slid down the wall, regaining his composure.
"I hate having to talk, having to do everything you want to. I hate it that I can't get away not even for a second, that I'm weak, that I have to spend three months with an asshole."
He paused, took a deep breath, and Seifer ignored the last remark.
"I hate that I can't go to the training center unless you want to, that I can't sit in the library and do nothing any more because it annoys you, I hate the pity I get from some people, and the confusion from others, when all I want is to just be invisible. I hate that you're still being nice to me, when you hated me before."
Seifer almost thought he was done and took a step forward, before he heard the next words, so soft that, had he been breathing, he would have missed them.
"I hate that I depend on you. But most of all…" There was a pause, as if he didn't want to finish.
"Most of all I hate that my skin doesn't crawl when you touch me, anymore." Squall sighed, turning so as to lean sideways against the wall.
"I just want everything to be back to normal." He said at last, and, steeling himself, Seifer moved to sit beside him. There was a slight shift sideways, a last-ditch attempt at avoidance, but then Squall was still, resting his chin on his knees and watching the other man warily out of the corner of his eye.
"So why'd you get up in the first place?"
The question was clearly unexpected, and nothing was said for a while.
"I was hungry." Squall said finally.
"Why didn't you just wake me up?"
Squall frowned, looking away.
"I thought I could make it if I held my breath,"
"Didn't work, huh?"
"Apparently not." The sarcasm was evident, and suddenly Seifer stood, beckoning for Squall to follow.
A few steps into the kitchen, and the blonde pointed to a chair, in which Squall promptly sat, unconsciously scowling. There were a few clinks of metal on glass, the small hiss of a refrigerator door, and a sandwich was dropped onto a plate in front of the startled brunette, before Seifer moved to occupy the chair opposite him.
The younger man frowned, glancing up at his rival with a questioning look in his eyes, but Seifer just smirked.
"You know, you're talking a lot more lately, Squally,"
"I hate it," Squall said flatly, before picking up the sandwich, "and don't call me 'Squally'."
Seifer couldn't help but laugh.
~*~*~
"That's it!" Another dent appeared in the wall, made by a different hand. Seifer was on a rampage, but Squall just stared at him blankly, his eyes the familiar ice-blue.
"Squall, you can't just ignore me all the time! I'm getting really sick of watching you just space out whenever you don't want to talk, cutting yourself off from everything. I'm getting bored!"
The only reply was a further drop in the room temperature, and Seifer's eyes widened as Squall flickered; just once, before turning unseeing eyes on his rival.
"Why not? Why should I talk to you? You only mock me and pry at my thoughts. I see no reason to tell you something just because you want to know." There was a strangled scream from Seifer.
"Because you have to talk sometime. You're completely out of it, Squall! I've been trying to be nicer to you, which is really, really hard, so the least you could do is not shut me out! You're the only person around most of the time; it's not like I have any other options!"
Neither one of them remembered when they'd started arguing, or why, but as Seifer's voice escalated along with the number of dented walls, Squall receded further and further into his mind, so deep in the wall of ice that he was almost Summoning.
The fight had been going on for the better part of an hour, Seifer accusing Squall of being suicidal, of trying to get him kicked out, of doing this just to piss him off, of being emotionally retarded, and insane. Squall had called him an asshole and promptly shut up, the temperature in the room dropping drastically with each continued rant, until Seifer's breath came in white clouds and even under his layers of clothing and natural resilience to cold Squall began to feel the bite of arctic air.
Squall:
It was like staring at a storm from underwater. Seifer, in all his fury, raged on outside my body, but he looked so far away, and blurred, as I watched from deep within.
I was pressed up against the ice wall, so close that I could feel diamond dust on my fingertips, and from over my shoulder Shiva watched all that went on with frosty blue eyes.
He is right Lion, just as I have told you so many times before. I scowled as she said this, her voice unusually cold and biting, howling like a snowstorm in my head, You need friends in the real world, friends not stuck inside your head. I do my best to help you when you need it, but you have taken it too far, relied on me instead of your own strength. Talk to him. Apologize.
I bristled at her tone, resenting being told what to do, but didn't comment on it.
I want to be left alone, I told her, I don't want friends. I don't want love or like or even kindness. I just want to disappear.
The Guardian shook her head, silver earrings tinkling like icicles.
You said you love me. I am your friend. Is that because I can make you disappear? Do you resent my kindness?
Her voice was neither sad nor angry, but a small amused tone that burned like a touch, scalding my skin.
No, I admitted softly. No. I am sorry. You are ever my friend, Shiva. Sometimes I just don't think before I speak.
I noticed. Came the wry reply, and I frowned, sighing mentally.
Everyone I ever loved just…left. I am alone because of them. You have my memories, do you deny this? Why should I love, when that is all it is; heartbreak and disappointment? Why should I make friends?
Shiva smiled her mysterious smile, reaching through the barrier to place an icy kiss on my forehead. As soon as the barrier had broken, I felt the odd pull that was usually followed by the Rift, where I would bask in long-lost memories before returning to the real world to face mangled bodies, forgetting them again.
This time, however, was different. The small flash, and then solid ground returned, and I felt my body blink.
Now talk to him, he will never leave you, the pale beauty demanded, and my forehead creased in a frown.
I wasn't talking about him before, I told her, wondering why she thought he even had the ability to break my heart. She just smiled again.
Yes you were. Shiva insisted, but I just shook my head, and had she not been so dignified, I'm fairly sure she would have put her hands on her hips. Instead, she frowned, and I had the strangest sensation of being shoved.
Before I knew it, I was listening to Seifer, trying to get back to the ice wall.
But I was blocked.
"Are you listening to me?!" Seifer knuckles were bleeding now, his breath coming in pants as he towered over me.
"No," I assured him absently, throwing myself against the barrier in my mind. Nothing happened, and I fought back panic, taking a deep breath. This was not the first time Shiva had disappeared. She would come back. I just had to wait.
Unfortunately, I wasn't given much time to do so. I was now quite literally caught in the open, and Seifer knew it, too. His green eyes were glittering maliciously, and he walked the few feet over to where I sat, placing both hands deliberately on my shoulders. For the first time in a while I felt my skin crawl at the unwanted contact, skin burning and shoulders heaving to rid themselves of the threat.
"Don't touch me." I told him, struggling to keep my voice flat, but it didn't seem to work. The grip tightened, and I winced, jerking backwards desperately. He didn't budge.
I felt the blind panic seeping over me now, and I grappled with the table, seeking to use it as leverage, but Seifer's weight and strength kept me rooted to the spot. Against my wishes, I felt tears prick at my eyes, and my shoulders grinded painfully in their sockets, moving of their own will to rid themselves of the threat.
"Don't touch me!" My voice cracked with desperation, and suddenly the pressure was gone, Seifer holding out his hands in apology, a look closely akin to regret on his face.
For a few seconds we did nothing but stare at each other, my breathing near that of hyperventilation, and Seifer's eyes narrowed.
"Sorry," He said awkwardly, his pride allowing him nothing more, and I nodded quickly, not wanting a repeat of the last few seconds.
"Counselor," He said, "This isn't working," and I nodded my assent again, trying to gather my thoughts and get under control again. It took a few seconds, and then, not saying anything, we both walked for the door, though I stayed as far away from him as the spell would allow, hoping against hope that Shiva had been wrong.
End Chapter 4
[1] That was just corny. But I had to work in 'gravity of love'.
Ok, I tried to fix the millions of screw-ups in the last chapter. Sorry about that; my computer was totally freaking, and then ff.n was having issues with replacing content. Thanks for all the lovely reviews, guys! I'm not sure if this is romance/humor, or romance/angst, so you're just gonna have to bear with me. ^_^
This was originally going to be longer, but I have to figure out how I'm gonna do the next chapter, so I'm just going to post this now. Like a cookie! *stuffs reader's mouths with cookies*
