See first chapter for details.
Yes, I do have what the counselor was writing on my computer. I'm going to try to work it into the story, but if I can't I'll just post it as a separate chapter. School starts up soon, so chapters after this may be a bit slower.
A Fate Worse Than Death
Chapter 6
3rd Person:
The notebook lay on the table, light reflected in a dull shine across its black surface. It was closed; had been ever since the first time Squall looked at it, choking in disbelief at the neat handwriting inside.
'The two seem attracted to each other…'
He could still see the page in his mind, and of all the notes, that one stuck with him, despite the absurd or disturbing natures of the rest.
Attracted? To Seifer? He glanced to his left, where said man watched him from under half-lidded eyes from his place on the couch. Squall shifted anxiously, gaze drawn back to the harmless little book, confusion hidden beneath its thin black cover.
'Squall displays extreme anxiety when being touched, but Seifer is able to calm him, more evidence against claims of antagonistic rivalry.'
Squall frowned. No, his hand came up to his forehead, a reflection of uncertainty. Seifer leaned forward, almost as if to touch him, and then paused. With a sigh, he returned to his original position.
…No…that's wrong. We are rivals. We hate each other. The brunette dropped his hand to the table, staring at old wounds covered by black gloves.
She was wrong. Seifer hates me, just as I hate him. That, his fingers curled, remembering soft circles and gentile tugs, was a fluke. Nothing more. He could still feel the hands, though, and the pleasure never before brought by touch. His palms were still in ecstasy, kept only from melting by thick leather and binding scars.
Just a fluke.
But his fingers weren't so sure.
Squall sighed. With slow determination, he reached for the darkness, pulling it into his lap and turning back the cover. He read, and re-read the words; all of them, and then turned to a blank page.
"Finally," Seifer remarked, and then he yawned, "All this watching is making me tired. I'm going to sleep," Squall didn't say anything, only watched him with emotionless gunmetal eyes.
"Wake me up when you're done," and then he stretched out on the couch, hands behind his head and face to the ceiling as he closed his eyes, breath slowing until it was only a distant sound in Squall's ears.
He stared at the blonde man for a few seconds, and then nodded in acknowledgement of the request, more out of courtesy than any real need.
Another sigh, and he pulled the pencil from the silver coils, staring at the blank page and wondering what he was supposed to write.
Squall:
I don't think I did anything for several hours. I had wanted to, honestly, but the words wouldn't come, and I decided instead to savor the unusual silence. It lasted a little longer than I expected it to.
It was when I almost drifted off that I realized I should probably start doing something, so I placed the notebook on the small coffee table, staring at the crisp white sheet and wondering how this was supposed to help me accomplish something that, in all honesty, I wasn't even sure I wanted to accomplish.
Oh, well I decided, and did the first thing that came to mind. I drew.
It wasn't anything in particular, just boxes and random shapes that grew in silver lines across the page, until I was able to make out words among their ensnared forms.
My name is Squall Leonhart, they told me, voices like soft scratchings and hisses, I am 5'8", with brown hair and blue-grey eyes. I am a SeeD; my weapon is a gunblade, a Revolver. My best friend is my Guardian Force, Shiva, the Ice Queen, but she won't talk to me right now,
Squall paused, threw himself against the barrier again, but it still held. In the distance he saw ice glimmering, calling to him with a voice he was unable to answer.
She says I rely on her too much, so she left me alone with an asshole called Seifer Almasy.
The silver lines stopped growing, and he re-read what they had just written. The brunette frowned, that wasn't right, and a few of the marks disappeared. He brushed off the page, and continued reading.
…so she left me alone with Seifer Almasy. I'm stuck with him for three months, because he messed up a Doom spell and our auras mixed and now I can't go further than five feet away from him. That's why I got this notebook; to write in. I don't like talking, and they said it would help. I really doubt it, but I'm going to do this anyway, just in case.
Fingers ran through silver-brown hair, Squall stared down at the page, then glanced at Seifer, and looked back at the notebook.
I don't usually like people. They make me uncomfortable, and won't leave me alone. They always want to touch me. I really wish I were just invisible, or didn't exist; that people would just let me talk to Shiva and deal with the fact that I don't care about them. But they won't.
The page turned, and the silver shapes started anew.
I usually just ignore people. Eventually they get the hint, and leave me alone, and if I'm lucky they don't talk to me again, and avoid me. If I'm not, they insult me and try to fight me, but even those give up and go away.
I only have a few people who are nice to me and talk to me even though I want them to go away. I guess you'd call them friends. Sometimes it's nice, so I'll talk to them, and they usually smile. They seem to think it makes them special, that I like them. They never realize that it was they own determination that made it that way. I guess I feel bad or something if I ignore the people that are nice to me for no reason.
There are four of them.
First is Quistis Trepe. She is an instructor, so I sort of have to talk to her. She is the youngest one in a long time, and she is pretty serious and very determined, but kind of insecure. I think she has a crush on me, is convinced that this is all some weird act to hide something great. But it's not. I don't know how to get her to realize that. She is blonde, and really pretty. She should go for someone else and quit wasting her time on me.
Zell is next. He was my roommate before this whole…thing. He makes me laugh sometimes, even though I don't really want to; it just encourages people. He is really hyper, and is a martial artist. It's interesting dueling him, because he somehow dodges lightning. Sometimes it seems like the lightening doesn't want to hit him. He won't tell me how he does it, but I've never asked, so that may be it.
Selphie Tilmitt is like a female Zell, but with brown hair and green eyes, instead of blonde and blue. She never shuts up, and completely ignores the fact that I ignore her, but she is almost fun to be around sometimes, unless she decides I've been quiet too long and hits me with her nunchaku.
Seifer Almasy is last. The reason I'm having to write in this. He is usually an all-around asshole, and I pretty much hate him for getting me into this. He never leaves me alone, and it usually results in a fist fight. He is sleeping on the couch.
The psychiatrist thinks we're attracted to each other. I don't know why. I didn't like her, so I didn't say a whole lot, and I'm pretty sure Seifer just flirted, because he's a pervert. I can't hate him, though. It only lasts a few minutes whenever I try, and I think it is because Shiva said I need him, and she is usually right. I guess that's why I haven't gone insane with her absence, because I suppose I deserve it. She should come back as soon as I realize what I did, though if I lose patience she'll come back anyway, but then I feel bad because she almost seems hurt. I hate that she makes me feel.
I also hate that I think she is usually right, because that means that I need Seifer. I don't want to need anyone. As soon as I do, they leave. I don't remember much of my family, but Shiva once told me that she saw a man and a woman in my long forgotten memories, but that their image was blurred.
That meant I was crying. That mean they were leaving.
Then there was Matron. She was like my mother, only she didn't leave. I did, and she let me go, which was just as bad.
And then there was Sis. She was the last person I bothered to love, until she left, too. That was the last time I cried, standing on the porch, in the rain, telling her shadow that I would be strong.
I haven't cried since then, not really. When I get really upset, I'll start to feel tears, but I won't let them come. I'm done with crying, just like I'm done with love; done with people leaving me as soon as they realize I'm not worth it. Better to just not talk, not make friends, not love, and not get left alone to wonder if maybe I didn't love them enough in return.
Yet I need Seifer. Shiva said he'll never leave, but that's impossible; isn't it? Everyone leaves, eventually.
Maybe she meant something else. I sort of hope so, because it might be nice to love, to be loved, and not have it fall apart when I screw up.
Though I don't see how that applies to Seifer. He certainly doesn't love me, and I don't love him.
But still. Maybe if someone loved me, I could stand to be touched.
Maybe… if I loved someone, I could be worth it.
The words kept going after that, flooding silver across the page, but Squall didn't read them.[1] He was too preoccupied with the previous words to be interested in the rest, so he politely waited for them to finish before dropping the pencil and closing the notebook with a decisive snap that woke Seifer up.
"Done?" he asked sleepily, stretching towards the ceiling with a small riot of popping joints. Squall stared at him; hands clamped around the book, and watched the shirt ride up to reveal golden skin over rippling muscles.
I'm straight, he reminded himself, but his eyes were unconvinced, and it was only after Seifer stared at him for a few seconds that he looked away. Squall stood up.
"Take that as a yes," Seifer's smiled. Scowling, the brunette jerked his head towards the bathroom, and his rival laughed, nodding.
"All right, and after that we're gonna go do something. I'm bored out of my skull here." He followed Squall to the bathroom, leaning against the wall as the brunette went inside.
Seifer:
I hadn't actually fallen asleep until Squall started writing, lulled by the soft scratching sound. For the first hour or so I just watched him, trying to not to smile as he attempted to stare down the notebook.
I could tell he was reading whatever Lenne had written, and I felt the familiar whisper of curiosity, followed by the urge to get up and read over his shoulder.
I knew that as soon as I stood up, however, Squall would shut the notebook and never look at it again, so I waited.
It was still on the table in the living room. I could see it; dull black cover pulling irresistibly at my eyes, but I couldn't go. To do so would result in the possible death of the Ice Prince, so I just sighed and waited for a time when he would fall asleep within easy reach of the little book.
The sound of running water came through the door, and it clicked open to reveal Squall, looking pissed off at nothing in particular as usual. He turned, looked at me, and crossed his arms, asking what it was I expected him to follow me around for.
I didn't answer him immediately, and he didn't rush me, though I think it was more out of an unwillingness to talk than anything else. I looked at him a moment, taking in the leather and white fabric and frustrating belts, the combat boots and silver necklace with a lion head and almost too-long silver-brown locks.
"Don't you ever cut your hair?" So much for being nice. Squall didn't glare, though, only shrugged.
"Just when it starts to get in the way," he said, and I blinked. That was the first time I'd ever heard anyone take such a careless attitude with their hair. That's probably why I liked Squall; it meant less time with him obsessing over his looks, less compliments I would have to pay, and we could both focus on me.
Not that I ever planned on being in the sort of relationship where we'd get into that. I was just saying.
"With what? Craft scissors?" I really had to start paying attention to what I was saying. My luck was amazing, though, and Squall just sighed and shifted his weight, apparently bored with the conversation. He never did strike me as the type of person who cared what he looks like.
"I usually just use a knife or something. It's not like it matters. Can we go now?" I chose not to comment on that, knowing that my brain would probably implode if I thought about cutting hair with a knife for too long. A fucking knife. Jesus. I wonder what would happen if he actually cared about his looks.
…
I'd probably jump him as soon as I saw him. He was just about the sexiest person, besides myself, I'd ever seen. I supposed his uncaring attitude towards his appearance was nature's way of keeping him safe from sexual molestation.
I couldn't help but wonder what he'd look like if he put on eyeliner, maybe a little lip gloss, and I was pretty sure he'd look awesome in a collar or something, and a mesh shirt. Tight pants, too…really tight pants…and…
Holy fuck…I had to stop thinking about that. Had to stop thinking about Leonhart tied up on the bed, moaning my name and looking at me with stormy, lust-filled eyes; his pale skin glowing on dark silk…
"…nnngh!" I whimpered, hands clutching at the empty air between me and Squall. As soon as I moved he took a hasty step back, eyes narrowed as he looked me up and down.
"Are you okay?" he asked doubtfully, and I cleared my throat, running a hand through my hair and turning quickly for the door.
"Fine," I assured him, my voice a little higher than usual, "Let's go to the Training Center." I heard the squeak of leather as she shrugged, and began to follow me out the door, stopping to stuff the notebook under one arm.
I didn't think I could last much longer without sex.
~*~*~
3rd Person:
Footsteps were heavy with added weight, metal clashing with an inhuman scream as silver descended on armored skin, and with a blinding flash the air caught fire.
Red clouds of blood and gunpowder blooming like poison flowers, only to disappear in seconds, and the monster collapsed as Squall smiled.
"Hyne, Leonhart." The voice was breathless; heaving behind him, and an uneven stride was detectable in the thud of Seifer's boots. He bent double, staring at the glazed eyes of the T-Rexaur in amazement.
"Never thought I'd see someone take down one of these monsters single-handed, without even using a GF." He almost clapped a hand on the brunette's back, then reconsidered.
"And you not even a SeeD yet,"
Squall just shrugged.
"You said I couldn't."
"I'd meant it. That wasn't a challenge."
"Oh…well, I can." There was no pride in his voice, no ego or boasting; only a simple statement of fact. Seifer wondered how he did it.
"No shit," he commented, "now come on. We can't have killed all the Grats yet."
They'd been battling for the better part of an hour, and had the singed scenery and stiff muscles to prove it. At first, Seifer had used Ifrit, but after seeing Squall's complete refusal to summon Shiva, he'd taken it as a challenge. It hadn't slowed them down a bit.
Even with their limited mobility due to the spell, Grat intestines still littered the ground, along with a few chunks of a strange hybrid that neither of the men had been able to identify the second half of.
The T-Rexaur had smashed through the foliage while they were cleaning off their gunblades; Squall had immediately stood up to face it.
"Nuh-uh," Seifer had said, "You can't beat this one," and so Squall set out to prove him wrong.
It had taken almost an hour, what with Seifer hovering nervously a few feet behind him, unable to help due to his rival's vehement promises of death. Squall wouldn't even let him cast cure, insisting on doing everything himself, and Seifer just hoped he be able to drag the body away in time to save him.
As it turned out, the worry was over nothing. Alternating between blizzard and cure spells, along with the occasional limit break, the T-Rexaur had fallen, causing Seifer to vow never to piss Squall off again.
Which he promptly broke.
Squall had taken a seat next to the most recent carcass, exhaustion beginning to show in the lines of his body. His Revolver lay across his lap, blood and green slime starting to work their way into the intricate designs on the flat of the blade, and the brunette was cleaning it off with a small towel he carried with him for this purpose.
In front of him, Seifer was leaning on Hyperion, eyes drawn to silhouettes in the Secret Area, and not for the first time he missed associating with people other than the Ice Prince; if that could even be called talking.
"C'mon, Squally," the other didn't appear to hear him, hands working furiously at the blade, "Let's go to the Secret Area. There seems to be a party or something." His companion shifted, glancing up at him through a curtain of his bangs.
"All the more reason to avoid it."
"Oh, come on. This might be my only chance at a relatively normal life for three months."
"I'm not going."
"Yes you are."
"No."
"Listen," Seifer told him, "you don't exactly have a choice. It's pretty much follow or die."
Squall's eyes narrowed. Pretty much die or die. And I'd rather be alone for my death. But he didn't tell that to Seifer. Instead, he sighed, swung Revolver over his shoulder, and gave his rival the coldest glare possible without the aid of Shiva, to which the blonde only grinned.
Given the Training Center's size, it was only a few seconds walk, and then they stepped blinking into the neon lights. Seifer smiled, and Squall automatically stepped closer to him, eyeing the many occupants warily. He hated crowds, even relatively quiet ones such as these, kept so by strict after-hours rules.
"Hey! It's Almasy! Where you been, man?" The speaker was a short teen with black hair, though he was still taller than Squall, and from the expression on his face, Seifer was a bit more than 'just a friend'.
"Nida,"[2] the usual smirk was back in place, and the blonde swung a companionable arm over the newcomer, bringing an unconscious scowl to the other gunblade specialist's lips.
"New boyfriend?" an unusually well-groomed eyebrow was raised, looking Squall over, and eyes lingered on his hips; partially obscured by no less than three belts. The brunette squirmed, beginning to really wish he'd been knocked out by the Rexaur.
Seifer just laughed.
"Leonhart? No way! He's just in love with me; follows me everywhere." The man called Nida sneered.
"The Squall Leonhart, huh? I've heard a lot about you. Supposedly some wonder boy; winning over the Ice Queen and breaking a few hearts along the way. People call you Ice Prince," He leaned forward, far too close for Squall, who immediately took a step back; scowl deepening as he once again fought the barrier in his mind. To no avail.
"But I just call you way out of your league." He was pulled back by his collar when the brunette just rolled his eyes, and Seifer captured his lips in a kiss that made Squall look away. He hated public displays of affection.
"Jealous, much?" The blonde's voice was low, but his rival still caught the words directed at Nida.
"Hey, I may not be your boyfriend, but I can still eliminate the competition," came the whispered reply, and Squall, already bored and no little uncomfortable, sat against a wall a few feet away, glaring at his knees and trying the barrier again.
Seifer glanced at him, led Nida to the couch next to Squall, and sat him down with a great show of chivalry. The other man giggled, and the brunette on the floor rolled his eyes.
Squall:
This was very definitely the last place I wanted to be, with the possible exception of a drunken rave. Shiva, for whatever reason, still wouldn't let me in, and I knew that I was going slowly insane, driven by stares and whispers and the giggles on the couch beside me.
Something sat heavily against my ribcage, and I suddenly remembered the notebook. It couldn't hurt.
I could feel the people drawing closer as I pulled it from my jacket, I could feel them gradually swirling closer, drawn by the arrival of Seifer and the curiosity as to why the fuck I was here. I was certainly wondering that, myself.
Something hit my leg; a boot, the owner moving to sit on the couch too near to my head. I tried to shrink into the wall.
Someone else almost tripped over me, and I drew my feet up to my chest, pulling the pencil out of the coiled wire and beginning to write.
Shadows were cast over the page, now, and I looked up into heavy hazel eyes. Something bumped into my exposed side; another girl, this one blonde, her eyes an empty blue. They giggled.
"Hey, you're cute," another laugh, and the silver spread on the page. "What'cha writing?"
Nothing. Go away. I shifted away from the weight at my side, too close to the man on the couch. Stone met my back; nowhere to go. My skin burned, itched.
A frown on red lips.
"Hey, I was talking to you." Another giggle. Go away. A blonde head on my shoulder, and the limb heaved, but it didn't move. Blue eyes gazed up at me with false shyness. Stone at my back; nowhere to go. Go away.
Something touched my knee, then. A hand, painted red with blood. My eyes widened, my flesh burned, froze; writhing like a wild animal under my skin. Go away. I hoped the stone would give. Trapped. I was always trapped, by golden bars and wide blue eyes that glared at me, ate at my soul; advanced like wolves and pressed me into a solid weight on my right, stone at my back.
"C'mon, let me look!" fangs flashed behind bloody lips, poison eyes looming close. Stone pushed at my back, at my sides. Go away, the silver told me, spread across the page. My breath suddenly caught, and I looked up at Seifer, who frowned at me from three feet away.
I couldn't breathe; there was only blue and gold and bloody nails. I shrunk back. Disappear. Please Disappear. Hands on my shoulders, knees. The barrier held. I screamed in my head.
Go away! Go away, go away, go away go away go away go away goaway goaway goawaygoawaygoawaygoawaygoawa-
Something snapped. The silver lines stopped growing, stopped trying to keep me from insanity and breath that wouldn't reach my lungs even from three feet away, from blood and gold and poison eyes and weights on all sides that crushed me, pulling at Squall and something snapped.
The pencil had broken.
Everything went quiet then, but for my lungs failed attempts at breath and the erratic beating of my heart. For one moment there was blissful silence, and then the notebook disappeared along with my sanity, replaced by a mocking voice.
"Oh! What's this? The Ice Prince has a diary!" Nida. The book was gone, but words still screamed inside my head, demanding to be released by a broken pencil and paper that wasn't there anymore.
Gasps from beside me, giggles and weight on my shoulder as blue eyes moved closer. The words pounded in my skull, flashing red across my vision, but I had no where to put them. But then poison eyes were gone, drawn by the voice that read my past and thoughts like a fairy tale. Though there would be no happy ending. I saw it in the letters that pounded in my mind, written in red ink across the barrier and crimson flames across my sight.
"Oh, dear," The voice hissed and the words built into a storm, raging wildly inside until I saw only them, heard only them, and I had to let them out. Had to set them free.
Golden bars were gone, then, left behind with bloody lips and burning skin and my erratic breath and the beat of my heart.
I couldn't breathe at all, now, and my heart was steady, pounding like funeral drums in my ears, or was that someone screaming?
I was past caring. Past seeing. Past feeling and thinking and the need for anything but to set the words free. It only took me a second to figure out what my legs already knew; what they were leading me to, and I let them take over, memory guiding where clouded eyes could not.
Then something was grabbing at me; pulling me down into the floor and I fought it with everything I had, my mind screaming with words that couldn't escape and I felt it fall back, and I was free to run again. The world spun, and my darkened vision went black, but my legs didn't care. They ran on, driven by an all-too-familiar madness, and I felt my skin burning again, disintegrating to ash and falling from my bones.
Muscles surged angrily, defying the ghosts of blue and poison eyes and my breath deserted me, left behind with the Rexaur who stared at me with a hungry grin and empty sight, haunting me from behind the barrier that remained in my mind. Silver lines replaced red, and my memory grew fractured, splitting into a thousand shattered pieces that rang in mocking laughter of a stranger known as Squall.
Fingers moved in front of my blind eyes, and green flashed angrily at me as a great mouth opened, but I was beyond caring. All I could see were the words, swirling and twisting and contorting on the inside of my skull, and very dimly I was aware of something blue and distantly familiar, crying diamond tears and calling to me, begging me not to.
But all that mattered were the words, and the storm inside my mind, and silver lines turning red.
Seifer:
I knew it was a bad idea as soon as Nida looked at him. I'd never really liked the bastard, but he was a good lay, and I was desperate. Maybe I was trying to make Leonhart jealous, too, just a little.
It had very dimly occurred to me that I should leave as soon as Squall looked up at me from his place on the ground, eyes pleading for something he had every right to receive. I ignored him, turned back to Nida in my lap and my other 'friends', and told myself that he'd be fine. I didn't look at him again, until heard something snap and mistook it for his sanity.
Turned out, it was just the pencil he had been writing with, but from the look on his face, it might as well have been his reason for living. Then Nida, following my gaze, narrowed his eyes, but before I could stop him the little book was in his grasp, and he grinned.
"Oh! What's this? The Ice Prince has a diary!" hidden cruelty beneath his words, and he flipped back the black cover, eyes widening dramatically.
"Apparently our dear Lion is," He paused, gasped, and fluttered his eyelashes, drawing an even bigger crowd and eliciting a few giggles.
"Oh, dear," he finished, his voice shocked, and out of the corner of my eye I saw Squall stand up.
I immediately knew what he was going to do, and stood up, tumbling Nida to the floor, grabbing the book from his hands as Squall suddenly bolted. Cold rage flooded over me as I glared down at the black-haired teen, but any words I would have said were cut off by the familiar choking sound as Leonhart reached the limit, and I rushed after him.
I was surprised when he kept running, though, ignoring his obvious inability to breathe, legs moving mechanically with a speed I was pressed to match.
"Squall!" my voice tore from my throat as I heaved for air, but he ignored me, didn't even slow down as he ran on, oblivious to anything in his path.
"Squall!" More frantic now, and my legs were failing me, but if anything he sped up. Something was very, very wrong.
I could hear him choking on his own breath, and he began to weave, tripping over his own feet as he ran. Reaching out my arm, I was barely able to reach him, and in a desperate move, I jumped.
My arms clamped around his waist, but not for long. His gloves latched onto my fingers, tearing at them with frantic fury, and I looked up into his face an immediately let go in shock.
He was crying, but there was something wrong with his eyes. They were wide, his pupils dilated so much that it was almost as if he had no iris; only a thin rim of stormy blue-grey, and I could swear that I saw red letters in their depths.
"SQUALL!" I pushed myself up from the floor, muscles screaming as I attempted to catch him. Footsteps thudded heavy on the ground, and his breathing was erratic; the only thing that drove him was madness.
Then suddenly our door was in sight, and even in his state he managed to open it, rushing inside. I made it through just before the sliding panel closed, slamming straight into the coffee table as Squall ran into the bathroom.
The door was locked when I reached it.
"Squall?" I fought to keep my voice low, calm, "Squall, open the door."
No answer.
"C'mon man, open up. It's me, Seifer,"
Nothing.
"Listen, I'm sorry. I don't know what's wrong, but I know it's my fault, and I'm sorry."
Panic.
"Squall!" My voice cracked. I pounded on the door, and to my great surprise; it shattered.
I immediately felt sick, closed my eyes and wished this wasn't happening. Blood coated the usually white tile, lying in puddles that seemed to gather primarily around a small plastic grey container, open and empty on the floor.
"Squall," I whispered helplessly, not wanting to look up. But I had to. Had to help him.
Only, he wasn't there.
Shiva stood amidst the blood, diamonds glittering on her cheeks.
Tears, I realized, and she looked at me.
"Oh, my poor Little Lion. What have you done? What have I done?" frost curled in silver vines around her feet, and she looked at me with ice-blue eyes. The room suddenly got very cold, but I didn't care. Didn't care about anything but Squall.
Diamonds sparkled as they fell to the floor.
"Why?" She asked me, and in that moment I wished I'd never been born, "he had almost…he was..." I wanted to throw up.
'Had'? 'Was'?
"Is he…?" Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck fuck fuck. I started crying when she shook her head slowly, a weak smile on blue lips.
"No," her voice was like wind chimes, frozen in winter, "I made him summon me, but I am fading fast. He will…when…"
Diamonds winked at me from within puddles of blood, and Shiva took a deep breath.
"He will appear when I leave, and you must stop him quickly. Already so much as been lost…" Her gaze was sharp as she looked at me, freezing to the bone.
"He must not lose you, too." I wondered briefly what she meant, before remembering the situation, and tried to blink back tears.
"Be ready, it will happen soon." She flickered.
"Cast as many Cures as you can," She told me, "right…now." I released the surge of energy, just as she disappeared, to be replaced by a small black body splattered in red, looking up at me with empty blue eyes and an utterly lost expression.
When the spells hit him, Squall dropped a small silver object that bounced once on the blood-washed floor, and his arms, covered in fresh wounds, began to heal.
I managed to catch him just as he collapsed.
End Chapter 6
[1]Don't ask me how he managed to do that. I'm not too sure, myself.
[2] Yes. Really. I'm short on characters, here. But watch out! He's a bitch!
Yay! And now the updates might be a bit slower, but I really want to write the next chapter, so maybe not.
Squall is fun to write when he's insane! But I kinda feel bad for him.
I apologize in advance for typos- I'm too tired to fix them at the moment.
Read?
Review!
