See first chapter for details
Note: I mentioned a counselor very briefly in the second chapter, but even if I hadn't, Garden is sort of a school, so they should have counselors, anyway, what with Squall being there and all. ^_^
A Fate Worse Than Death
Chapter 5
Seifer:
I was such a fucking idiot.
I'd made it my goal to get into bed with Squall; set about to try and make him able to function as a relatively normal member of society, and what's the first thing I do?
Scare him out of his mind. Or, more likely, even deeper into his mind. Not that it was completely my fault or anything, considering that he was being an ass, but somehow I doubted he saw my side of the argument. This was gonna get pinned on me, just like this whole mess was, because no one thinks Squall is capable of wrongdoing.
Though, now that I think of it, that is actually perfectly reasonable. The man is barely capable of speech; the very thought of him doing something wrong is pretty much absurd.
I sighed. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Squall's head jerk up, startled. He eyed me warily, almost exactly five feet away; behind me and to the left, body tensed as if to run.
A frown formed on his lips, waiting for me to move, and I fought the brief urge to hop forward and catch him by surprise, enacting a little revenge for our argument a few minutes earlier. The very argument that was responsible for us being in the hallway, walking towards the promised counselor, whom I hoped would be able to convince Squall to talk every once in awhile.
Another sigh, then I made a point of shifting my weight forward- showing him I was going to move again- and we continued our trek through Garden.
Squall:
Seifer was very obviously pissed off.
Whether he knew it or not, he was glaring at his feet as he walked, shaking his head and muttering under his breath. For some inane reason, I hoped he wasn't mad at me.
Suddenly he stopped, and sighed, and I abruptly ended my movements as well, unsure as of what he was stopping for. My shoulder burned where he had grabbed me, making me alert to any movement he might make. I frowned.
Why did I care whether it was me he was mad at or not? He was the one who was so obsessed with getting me to talk, he who had completely ignored my obvious wish for quiet.
It was he who got angry at stupid things, he who flaunted emotions like they were something to be proud of; he who confused me beyond belief with his capricious moods, and then got angry when I drew inside myself to escape the uncertainty of it all. My scowl deepened. Seifer was the one who had touched me, crushing my shoulders when he lost control.
But then I wasn't so sure he had lost control. The egotistical bastard seemed to have an obsession with causing me as much discomfort as possible. My entire childhood was proof of that, as was the scar on my face, and the pain in my shoulders, and the chaos of emotions inside me; torn between the Seifer of last night and the Seifer of this morning.
He was staring at me. I shifted uncertainly, not liking the intensity of his gaze, and my body tensed, all set to run. I stifled a weak laugh.
Run? Where to? Behind me lead to death, forward led to Seifer. Had this morning not happened, the choice would have been obvious, but now…
…Now, death was very slowly becoming an option. Seifer sighed again, almost as if in response to my decision, and turned, beginning to walk again. I felt my muscles relax, and I followed at a safe distance, resuming once again to try to break the barrier in my mind that kept me from the wall of ice.
3rd Person:
"All right," The counselor, a cheery brunette in what looked to be her late twenties pulled two files from a sizeable cabinet, flipping through them with long red nails as she walked back to her wooden desk. Seifer's eyes followed her every move, drawn to long legs bared by a crimson miniskirt that matched her nails.
Three days, he thought mournfully, three days. I'm never going to survive this. Either Squall is going to stop hiding behind those unreasonable belts, or he is just going to have to deal with me having sex while he's in the room. Though he probably wouldn't admit it to anyone but himself, Seifer preferred the former to the latter. Something about making Squall moan was very appealing.
His thoughts were interrupted by the clunk of a moving chair, and he looked up as the counselor settled into her seat, files still in hand.
"Well," Her voice, despite her appearance, was rather no-nonsense, stern and articulated, "I must admit, you're the first students I've seen in quite a while. What with the standards and the encouragement of duels, most students work their problems out by themselves, or simply aren't here." A pause.
"But, taking into consideration your particular situation, one could see how a duel would just…complicate things further. Therefore, I am to try and aid you two in any way possible. You may call me Miss Lenne, or just Lenne will be fine." [1]
There was silence as Squall just stared out the window, trying to ignore the fact that he and Seifer sat side-by-side on the stereotypical 'psychiatrist' couch. The blonde had his arms crossed, leaning against the backboard with a nonchalant air, but he watched Squall out of the corner of his eye, seeming to focus on the brunette's excessive amount of belts. The smaller man shifted uncomfortably, crossing his arms in an unintentional mimic of Seifer. At her desk, Lenne smiled slightly, scribbling something on a notepad along with a few other notes and observations she had made about the two. The sound caught Squall's attention immediately, and his head turned sharply.
"What are you writing?" He demanded, obviously suspicious. Seifer sat up a bit, interested as well.
"Just observations," came the calm assurance.
"Can we see it?" Seifer this time, arms uncrossed as he pushed himself up completely. The movement startled Squall out of his semi-relaxed state, and he moved slightly further along the couch, hands coming down to grip the edges of the scarlet material. Seifer frowned at him.
"Why are you so jumpy?"
There was no answer, Squall only scowled and looked back to Lenne, still writing notes.
"I'll show tell you after the session," She replied, in answer to Seifer's question, and then picked up the first file, a rather thick one, and flipped through the loose sheets of paper, stopping every once in awhile to read a bit. About halfway through, she stopped, and pulled out a small paper clipped stack, her eyes following the text quickly. A thoughtful frown tugged at her lips.
Seifer grimaced. Probably mine.
Chocolate eyes looked up to study each of the boys. She looked over them for a few seconds, then went back to reading, flipping to the second and then the third page, eyes widening. Seifer squirmed; Squall continued to stare at nothing in particular. Finally she read to the end of the last page, putting the sheets back in the file and clasping her hands on the desk. Her suddenly bright eyes settled on the sulking brunette.
"I assume you're Squall Leonhart?"
Seifer just gaped. That had been Squall's file? Squall's?
The teen next to him sighed, which Seifer understood as a 'yes', but Lenne didn't seem to get it. The silence stretched for a moment as she waited for an answer. Finally a low 'yes' was heard as the staring made Squall increasingly uncomfortable. He brought his arms back up, crossing them over his chest and leaning back, not meeting anyone's gaze.
"I see,"
Silence for a few seconds. Seifer's curiosity burned. A crimson nail tapped the top of the file.
"And before…? I don't remember you. Who filed the report?"
"Dr. Kadowaki."
"She acted as a counselor as well?"
Another brief silence.
"Yes."
"And Dr. Kadowaki again, after that?"
"Yes." Squall was squirming uncomfortably now, hiding his face behind his hair. Seifer fought the urge to put an arm around him with the urge to beat them both senseless for not telling him what was going on. There was a rustling of papers and Lenne looked over the reports again.
"This third time, it only mentions the event, not anything afterwards. No counselor?" Squall shook his head.
"Why not, if I may ask?"
"I don't like talking," Squall said pointedly, "it was a waste of my time."
Lenne nodded absently, scribbling something down in the notebook. Seifer resisted the impulse to jump up and grab it from her. When she was finished, she gave the brunette a sharp look.
"It only works if you let it," She said, just as pointedly, and then she closed the file and picked up another one. There were only two sheets of paper in it. Seifer blinked.
"…and you're Seifer." It wasn't a question. The counselor picked up a sheet in each hand, looking first at one, then the other. She raised an eyebrow.
"This says something about squid, a Fira spell, and having to move into a different dorm." Beside him, Squall coughed, covering up a laugh, and Seifer glared.
"I didn't know squid were flammable." He asserted softly, "I was hungry, and Raijin didn't tell me it was still alive." Something strongly resembling a giggle escaped Squall's throat, but when the other two people looked at him, he was scowling and looking away. Lenne tsked.
"And after promising not to burn anything else down, too." She scolded, tapping the files on the desk straighten them before returning them to the cabinet. It was the work of a second, and she was soon back at her desk.
"All right," her voice was bright, "What seems to be the problem between you two?"
Seifer:
I don't think Leonhart will let me screw him, My mind immediately supplied, followed shortly by I probably won't get laid for three months! And then I don't see how Squall could not want me! The thought that he may be straight never occurred to me. Not when I was concerned.
"...Seifer thinks I'm too introspective." Squally said finally, surprising everyone, even himself, by the look on his face. I snorted.
"That's an understatement." Lenne glanced at me, and then her gaze settled on Squall again.
"Do you think you're too introspective?" Her voice was soft.
A creak of leather as he shrugged, wrapping both arms around a knee, and resting his chin on it. His eyes went unfocused, staring in the general direction of the desk. I resisted the urge to pull him into my arms and squeeze him. He looked so lonely…so…lost.
The lady-shrink glanced at me; I glanced at her breasts, then quickly up to her face, hoping she didn't notice. She narrowed her eyes again, writing something down. Fuck.
"Well, given the situation, you will have to adjust some aspects of your life. You may have to talk to Seifer more than you'd like, because, even thought it is through no fault of your own-" I winced. Wouldn't they drop that? "-he is going to be a part of your life for the next few months, or whenever it is the scientists in Esthar finally get around to creating a cure, or someone finds one during their travels." She paused, tapping pale purple lips with red nails.
"Seifer?" The question was so sudden that I jumped, "Anything you want to add?"
Will you have sex with me? Right now? On the desk?
"Not really."
"Are you sure? Any thoughts? Feelings? Anything you walk to ask Squall? This is the time for it." She insisted.
Will you have sex with me? Right now? On the couch?
"Why bother? He isn't going to answer me." Squall shot me a glare, which I returned. Lenne sighed.
"All right, then. I guess I'll just ask you some questions." She turned to a different page in the notebook.
"Squall," he scowled at his name, "Is there any specific reason you don't want to talk to Seifer? Anything he does to annoy you?"
"Everything," came the immediate answer. I rolled my eyes. Lenne scribbled something in the notebook.
"Anything more specific?" Lenne pressed.
Squall got quiet for a second, looking at his hands.
"I hate being touched." He announced, finally. I winced. As if I weren't sorry enough about this morning. Lenne frowned, wrote something down in her notebook, and crossed it out. She stared at the page for a second, and then wrote something else.
"Anything else?" Lenne asked after a moment. Squall frowned, his discomfort painfully obvious.
"He calls it Squall World," came the soft reply, "where I 'go' when I space out. I…it's been brought to my attention before that maybe I am too detached, spend too much time in here," he tapped one gloved finger against his head, "and not enough in the real world. I like being alone, though. I like being detached. I don't want to have to make friends with people and smile and be happy. I like Squall World." A pause.
"But when I think about it more, I just don't know. I hate people, but there are a few that are alright sometimes. I'm just not sure what I should do." He sighed, glanced at me, an unreadable expression on his face. There was the sound of pencil on paper from the desk.
"But I hate being touched. And Seifer doesn't help by being an asshole." Leonhart finished, and I groaned. Metal clicked as he shifted his weight and put both feet back on the floor, propping his elbows on his forelegs and resting his head in his hands. Lenne put her pencil down.
"Why do you hate being touched, Squall?" She inquired gently. There was no reply. After about a minute of silence, I answered instead.
"I think he's done talking."
"Squall?" Lenne called again. Leonhart didn't even acknowledge her. Sighing, the woman flipped to a new page, turning to me instead.
"Okay, Mr. Almasy. Let's talk about you." I grinned.
"My favorite subject."
"Why did you come here today?" Ouch. Right to the point. Not even a 'how are you, want to have sex?'
"Well," I began, "Squall was pretty much being an asshole all morning, wouldn't even talked to me, just completely ignoring the small but unforgettable fact that I do, indeed, exist. Figuring he just wasn't a morning person, I sat there for the better part of an hour, waiting to see what he would do."
Scribble, scribble, scribble.
"He did absolutely nothing. And, as you may recall, we are required to stay within five feet of each other or Squally-boy there has a conniption and starts choking on his lungs. I was bored. He wouldn't talk to me, or move, and I was too nice to just get up and risk his life, so I started trying to get a response. Any response." Squall was glaring at me from under his curtain of hair.
"Long story short, he called me a bastard, the room temperature dropped about forty degrees, and then I started wasting the walls with my fists. That went on for another fifteen minutes, and I finally got fed up and grabbed him by his shoulders, upon which Squall went into hysterics and-" I bowed slightly, "-here we are."
Lenne looked at me sharply.
"Did you know he doesn't like being touched?"
"He's only told me fifty or so times," But hell if I was gonna stand around bloodying my knuckles instead of his nose. Leonhart really had to get over himself.
"I see. You mentioned the room temperature dropping. What did you mean?" Her voice was preoccupied as she jotted down another few words in the notebook. That thing was gonna drive me insane.
I glanced sideways to see Squall glaring daggers at me, and I smirked. His scowl deepened.
"Well," the glare intensified, "whenever Squally gets pissed-" I was cut off as something hit me in the side, knocking me off of the couch and onto the floor. Squall stood over me, shaking with barely concealed rage.
"I told you not to call me that." He hissed dangerously, and had I been wiser, I would have apologized right there. But that's what is so great about me; I saw straight through his lame excuse, and couldn't help but wonder why he would tell me about Shiva, and not the psychiatrist chick. I grinned, climbing to my feet.
I distantly heard Lenne writing something in her notebook as I advanced on Leonhart, what I knew was an infuriating smile pulling at my lips. As soon as I got within a foot, Squall took an automatic step back, but his glare only intensified.
"Where's Shiva?" I kept my voice quiet, mocking, so only he could hear, "Why hasn't the room frozen over by now?" I couldn't help myself, "Have you pissed her off, too?"
Blue-grey eyes narrowed to slits.
"Asshole!" black leather gloves reached for a gunblade that wasn't there as he rushed forward, slamming into me head-on. I snorted as I stumbled back a few steps; as if he could knock me over. I retaliated, smashing into his side in a rush almost identical to his, but he only fell to his knees, and then lunged at me.
"I fucking hate you!" His voice was hoarse, "you can't just leave me alone, can you? You always have to be the center of fucking attention!" His shoulder hit me in the stomach, driven forward by his entire body's weight. I bent double, gasped for breath.
Hands curling in on themselves, he stood in front of me, a thundercloud with all the storms on the earth inside him.
"You could never just let me live in peace! You always have to come in and screw with everything as I know it!" His voice had dropped back to an angry whisper, forced out of heaving lungs. But hell if I'd let him have the last hit.
I launched myself at him, leg muscles screaming from the strain. The move caught him by surprise, and he threw himself backwards, but I misjudged and rammed into his side, aiding his short flight across the room.
Suddenly I remembered the spell, forgotten in the heat of battle, and there was a strangled cough from Squall.
"Oh, fuck, Squall!" I cursed, and rushed to where he had fallen.
Squall:
I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Everything hurt from the furious, if short, fistfight, and my head was spinning as the familiar white lights danced in front of my eyes, spinning lazily across the growing black like shooting stars.
I closed my eyes, feeling sick for lack of breath and the terrible hurt in my stomach from where Seifer hit me, and my back from where I had fallen.
My breath wouldn't come; I was choking on air, suffocated by it.
My lungs were petrified, my head was split in two, my back was crushed, and I had been impaled by Ifrit's own twisted horns.
I was going to die.
And then, quite suddenly, I could breathe again, and the pain disappeared. I opened my eyes, and saw Seifer, leaning over me with the afterglow of Cure on his fingers and a concerned look on his face, replaced quickly by his usual smirk when he saw me move.
I tried to breathe, inhaled too much air, and coughed violently as tears sprung to my eyes.
"Easy, Squally," came the gentile voice, and I tried to glare at Seifer, the effect considerably diminished by my wheezing and watery eyes. Hands clamped tightly around my arms, starting to pull me to my feet. Memory surfaced, strong hands crushing my shoulders, squeezing and not letting go. My skin burned at the touch, itching under leather, and I fought the gentile grip.
"Freeze." Lenne's voice rang out, sharp and commanding, and Seifer stopped lifting. I, however, ignored her, skin blistering beneath touch, muscles surging desperately, but I couldn't breathe yet, couldn't get my feet under me.
"I said 'freeze', Squall," but Seifer's hands were still on my arms, I couldn't hold still, I had to get free, I was trapped! I threw myself against the barrier in my mind, seeking the emotionless calm of ice and the comfort of blue skin, but to no avail.
"Don't make me cast Stop, Mr. Leonhart. Just hold still a moment. Try to relax. Breathe. Seifer isn't going to kill you." I was breathing! I was breathing so hard I couldn't focus! Relax?! I stopped thinking before panic set in. I slammed complete and utter silence into my brain, and my body went stiff and rigid, staring mindlessly at the floor.
"Now," came the cursed voice again, "What do you feel? Why are you scared?" I whimpered inside my mind, buried too deep under the need to not panic to answer. My mind wasn't working right. I was trapped.
Then something shifted.
Seifer was moving.
The hands on my arms began to move in soft circles, slowly down to my elbow. I shuddered, fell from my half-risen position back to my knees as the circles reached my forearms, gently working the panic from my brain.
Calm flooded through me, sent out in waves from the hands, and I felt my lashes flutter shut over unseeing eyes.
The circles were halfway to my wrists, now, gentile kisses of touch on the skin. I still felt the burn it elicited, even through my thick jacket, but it wasn't frightening now, it was relaxing, intoxicating, and I felt myself fall forward, forehead hitting soft fabric that smelled of cool water and sweat.
"Nnhg." I said intelligently as the circles reached my hands, and something rumbled softly under my brow. Gloves were peeled off, but I was too swept up in lethargy to complain. The fingers were pulling slightly now, working over a web of bone and muscle, kneading callused skin until my fingers curled down in complete relaxation, and I heard my joints pop deliciously as the tugging continued over each digit.
I was completely mindless, now, a giant mass of boneless Squall, and I didn't even remember falling asleep.
Seifer:
I knew I should have just let him go, just ignored Lenne's command and spared Squall the blind panic I knew was going to come. But a small part of me was curious, and another didn't want to let go, and the rest was too focused on sex to think straight, so freeze I did.
I almost felt horrible, watching him tug futilely against my grip, eyes wide and panicked. He obviously didn't see me, his eyes open but empty, and with each word Lenne said he got worse. Even I wasn't so cruel as to just ignore that.
So I did the first thing that came to mind. I started to massage his arms, using techniques perfected on countless lovers, guaranteed to melt whoever had the good fortune of catching my eye.
It worked almost as well as the Almasy Charm; in seconds he had stopped tugging, and within a minute he fell to his knees, and I did the same, holding up his seemingly boneless body as I worked my way down to his wrists.
I saw him swaying, eyelashes fluttering against marble skin, and then he fell forward, head coming to rest on my shoulder. I chuckled, enjoying the comforting weight on my shoulder and the knowledge that Squall was helpless to resist me. And then I reached his hands. I had always liked his hands, almost as much as his ass, but they were always covered in the black gloves.
Using his extreme state of lethargy to my advantage, I slowly peeled off his gloves, dropping them on the floor next to me.
Squall's hands were callused and scarred from countless battles, and I could see why he might want to hide them, but I thought they were beautiful, just like the rest of him.
I slowly set to work on the muscles and joints, feeling them turn to mush beneath my hands.
"Nnhg," Though it was muffled by my shoulder, I still heard what I knew to be a complete sign of surrender, and couldn't help but grin. It was only seconds before he was completely limp, leaning heavily against me, and I figured he'd have to have sex with me after this.
Then he started to slip sideways, and I caught him before he could bash his head on the floor, slowing the fall and gently letting him come to rest on the carpet.
Squall had fallen asleep.
I grinned again, and as I watched he curled tightly into a ball, becoming nothing but a blob of black with a mess of brown hair. Then I remembered where we were.
Looking up, I saw Lenne writing in the notebook again, and then she ripped out a page handed it to me, and snapped the notebook closed.
I didn't even glance at the paper, just shoved it into my pocket and stretched.
"Not even curious?" a smile glimmered on her lips, and I shook my head, smiling slightly.
"Not at the moment. I'll look at it later. Though I could've sworn you wrote more than a page."
"The rest is for Squall only, if he wants to see it. I'm going to give him the notebook, too. He seems in need of a way to organize his thoughts and feelings." She nodded to the sleeping figure.
"Wake him up, if you will. We aren't done." I frowned, feeling an odd surge of protectiveness.
"Don't you think he's had enough trauma for one day?" I asked, only half joking. Lenne smiled.
"No more trauma." She promised, "I'm just going to instigate a little question and answer between you two, so you both can get more into the swing of communicating with each other."
"You make us sound like we're in a relationship," I only wanted to fuck him.
"You are in far more of a relationship than most people. You two are going to be forced to spend a lot of time in a close proximity. You're going to have to learn to communicate without having a fistfight every time." She grinned mischievously, far from what I expected of a professional.
"Although I must admit, it was pretty sweet of you, the way you stopped it." I was about to deny it, then stopped.
She was right.
What gives? I'd usually just hit him over the head and be done with it. Looks like I was getting soft.
"Don't read too much into it," I scowled at her bright smile, "Me and Squall, we go way back…" Pause. I scratched my head.
"I think. I can't really remember. The GFs screw with our memory, you know?" Lenne nodded; she understood.
"Anyway, he's my rival. I can't stand to see him flipping out; pins a bad image on me." Well, it sort of made sense. Time for a subject change.
"Have you got a Guardian?" Lenne smiled, and I knew she knew what I was doing, but she nodded anyway.
"Siren," she told me, "all echoes and wings and ocean waves. I wouldn't give her up for all the memories in the world. Especially not mine." I briefly wondered what she meant. Bad childhood? Death of a lover?[2] I knew better than to ask, though. Not about that, at least.
"What did she give you?" Brown eyes just stared at me for a moment, and then a soft smile appeared on pale purple lips, and I barely heard her when she spoke.
"Song," she whispered, "she gave me song, and a voice to sing with. So I can sing to him when I get lonely, and I know they reach him, even across ages." There was a long silence, and I looked over my shoulder at Squall, still asleep.
"I don't know what Ifrit gave me," I admitted, "Shiva gave Squall solace, to heal his mind; Quetzalcoatl gave Zell endless energy, to obtain his goals; Leviathan gave Quisty determination and courage for her job; Selphie got buoyant happiness from Carbunkle to fall back on in hard times; the Siren gave you song, to connect you with your lover, and Ifrit…" I frowned, thinking hard. After a moment I shrugged.
Lenne began to laugh, and I shot her a glare.
"Weren't you here three minutes ago? Did you see how quickly he melted? Really, Mister Almasy. Ifrit gave you charm; deadly, seductive charm with a heart of fire to match." I scoffed.
"I had that! Long before Ifrit." The woman giggled at that, hiding a smile behind her hands, and gestured towards Squall.
"Just wake him up. This will only take fifteen minutes." I stared at her, aghast.
"What? And have Squall kill me? No thanks. You wake him up. He gets pissy when you bother him." The counselor shook her head firmly.
"This is part of the session. Wake him up." Oh, I'm sure. Well, it was nice living.
Leaning down, I gently shook Squall's shoulders.
"Hey," I told him when he cracked open a grey-blue eye to glare at me, "Up!"
"Leave me alone," he muttered into his jacket, and I rolled my eyes.
"Get up, Leonhart. You're on the floor of the counselor's office." He sat bolt upright, blinking rapidly.
"What am I doing here?" He asked no one in particular, and then looked at his hands, and winced, "And where are my gloves?"
I pointed, and he grabbed them, strapping them on with the ease of long practice.
"Why?" He glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, and I shrugged.
"Took 'em off while you were busy moaning my name," I winked, smirking when he rolled his eyes and shoved his other hand into the second glove.
"I'm too tired to punch you, Almasy," he informed me, and then looked at Lenne, who beckoned for both of us to sit on the couch. I sat down closer to Squall than we had been previously, watching carefully for his reaction. There was only a slight flicker of his eye and a noncommittal shift of his weight away from me, but he was still watching carefully. I mentally nodded, satisfied.
~*~*~
3rd Person:
"Alright, Leonhart. Favorite color?" Seifer studied his nails casually, lounging against the back of the couch. After much persuasion by Lenne, they had started a question and answer game, Squall starting off with 'why are you such a bastard?' to which Seifer retaliated with 'why are you such an ass?'
After the first five minutes, they stopped insulting each other and settled on asking non-threatening questions such as favorite food and color.
"Black" came the immediate reply.
"Black isn't a color," Seifer asserted, just to be annoying, "It's the absence of all colors." Squall glared at him, and then shrugged.
"White, then." The blonde shook his head, smirking.
"Strike two," He tried to keep from smiling as Squall held a hand to his forehead in obvious annoyance, "White is the presense of all colors. Really, Leonhart, don't you pay attention in art?"
"No." he affirmed, fingers tracing the scar on his brow, "Cyan, then. Dark cyan."
"What the fuck is cyan?"
Squall didn't say anything; the answer came from Lenne. "It's kind of an aquamarine, only greener," Seifer gave her a blank look.
"Oh…uhm…" She searched the room, eyes coming back to rest on Seifer. "Oh!" She exclaimed happily, "like your eyes. Exactly like your eyes."
Squall wondered which gods hated him, and why.
Luckily, before his rival could comment, a small timer went off, and Lenne stood up.
"Well," She shuffled through her desk, pulling out the notebook and handing it to Squall, who looked at it as if it were a dead rodent.
"It's for you," Lenne told him, pushing it into his hands, "To organize your thoughts, and write something down if you need to express emotion. It should help. And some of the notes I took are in there; mostly about you, so they shouldn't really surprise you." His fingers closed uncertainly around the spiral as Lenne pushed them both out of the room.
"Well, I'll always be here if you need me, but try not to come back for a few days at least," She joked. Seifer smiled and waved as he walked out the door, and Squall just stared at her incredulously before turning to catch up.
When they were a safe distance away, Squall opened the notebook, reading the notes from their session.
Seifer stopped walking when he heard a strange gurgling sound from Squall, frowning with worry.
"What is it?" he asked, and Squall shook his head, snapping the book shut, his eyes wide in a pale face.
"Nothing," he muttered, before starting forward again.
Seifer didn't believe him.
End Chapter 5
[1] I can't help it. Lenne was just cool.
[2] I am such a cornball _ (Shuyin! Lenne! NOOO!)
Argh. Up since about 1 or 2 am typing that beast, and it is 10:14. That's, what? Eight hours? I really have to go work on my art project.
Read? Review!
