Chapter 1: Enchantee

Disclaimer: The usual blah blah stuff about me not owning FF8. Of course I don't! If I did, I would have allowed Square to design a movie similar to advent children! Anyways, that's that.

Note: This is an AU. Don't think strange thoughts if some characters don't act the way they do in the game. Also, the conversations in this story are in French, but are written in English for the sake of public understanding. Enjoy.

Squall's POV

Okay…so I just finished moving the furniture in the apartment. Looks really nice, and I like the Mediterranean theme to it. The kitchen is well furnished too. Hey, I can't complain about the price if they're giving me a discount for the best spot in town equipped with basically everything I need right?

Now…the only problem I have is the decorating part. I've never been good at decorating rooms. As a food artist, I might be considered a master…interior design was never a thing of mine though. My room's a mess…but isn't every guy's room one?

Dang…so what do I do with this huge frame? Ok…I admit…I'm a huge fan of black and white photos. I'm an art lover and all that…but if you ever call me gay, the next thing you'll be seeing is a morbid image of you pinned against a lighthouse with every sharp, pointy torture device imaginable stuck in your body.

Enough ranting and on with the show…or in this case the moving. Too bad I can't have Sis here to help me with the niceties of having a pretty home. I could use female help, but just having moved into the city, I haven't made any friends yet.

I need a break. Furniture moving is not an easy thing, especially if you have to move these gargantuan oak cabinets and drawers across the room. I'm just glad to know that the way the kitchen is arranged best suits my taste, otherwise I'd go nuts moving a heavy oven.

I walk across the room towards the huge, inviting windows that offer me a glimpse of the busy Parisian street life below. Unlike in most parts of the United States, most Parisians walk a lot. Lucky for them, they have an excellent public transportation system, so mobility is not an issue. In other words…less pollution and more exercise. It is no wonder that a lot of the best supermodels are French.

So what am I doing here in Paris? Why do you want to know anyways? Okay okay, fine, I won't be an antisocial freak to you but just so you would stop nosing into my life with your endless list of questions…I want to be a chef. That's right…a chef trained in the greatest school of cooking in France…the Le Cordon Bleu. My name is Squall Leonhart, I'm 23, and I just graduated from a really boring business course in Cornell University in New York. If it weren't for those French classes and the Chinese courses I took, I probably would have dropped it and switched to something like oh let's say…engineering. But I didn't want to age myself a decade, so I decided to take business. And just so you wouldn't ask again, I do speak Chinese.

Why Paris? Well, if you weren't from this planet, I'd just have to remind you that the city is one of the world's top culinary havens. Great food abounds in France, and just about every cuisine in the world involves some technique used in French cooking. Yah, I know…I'm boring you. But who asked you to ask me these questions in the first place?

I am admittedly an antisocial kind of guy. Well isn't every great artist or musician or what antisocial? I don't like the limelight. I hate attention. It's just too bad that my dad is a press magnet. Good thing he allowed me to use my mother's maiden name as my last name so it's easier for me to avoid the pavarotti's or the paparazzis or something.

Who's my dad, you ask? He is this bigshot CEO of some huge computer firm in California. I hate California though. A lot of green and sun and too much fun. People there have colors abounding in their heads and I had to get away from it all. That's the reason why I moved to New York for college. And did I mention that my dad is a movie star too? Well, the guy can act! He married my mom (duh), who was a fine actress too, and both of them would star in movies when they get the chance to do so in between the hectic schedule of the firm.

I, on the other hand, have this innate desire to avoid the press and shy away from anything that has a lens and a shutter. Yup, no cameras for me. I only have a few photos at home of myself…most of them of me and my sister, Elle. She loves the Cali lifestyle though, and decided to attend Stanford. What I would give right now for her to fly herself all the way to Paris.

So what about my love life? Geez, you are nosy. But if you want to know, so be it. I am single and available now, if you are interested…but I do have a few restrictions. I had a girlfriend at one time, but eventually we decided that it was best that we part ways. She was, after all, going off to Japan to have this job at one of the important computer firms, and I was going to France. She was this Japanese-American girl named Aiko Van Stein, and we were together for about three years. Sorry ladies, but I have to start narrowing down my types. I have this thing for white Asian (Chinese, Korean, or Japanese) or Eurasian girls. I go for the dark hair and delicate Asian features, and no more questions about that…they're my type. Brown eyes are a plus…and I think highlights are hot, if they're not overdone. Creamy skin…almond eyes…yeah…so why was I talking to you again?

I look back at the apartment and see this huge mess. Ok, so maybe my redecorating job doesn't need a lot of help. It NEEDS a TON of work on it to make it more or less presentable to some guy or mailman or hot French girl who might want to come by and give it a look. It's cozy, but I wouldn't know how to put together a desk, a cabinet, and a few shelves in a room to make the visitors say 'Wow'.

So I sigh and start unpacking my stuff. Box three has the plates, glasses, and various utensils and kitchenware. Hey, I need my kitchen stuff if I'm going to be a chef! Box four has my Hobart Mixer. Box two has my gelato machine…a gift from dad. It's a cool device cause I don't need to go to the store to buy ice cream anymore. Box seven…knives and a food processor…can't live without one. Espresso machine…waffle press…blender…etc. My kitchen's complete! Awesome!

So what about my wardrobe? It's tucked away in the three suitcases I brought here. I unpacked it earlier today and started hanging my stuff in the cabinets first thing in the morning. Good thing I'm neat…otherwise my house would look like a horse ran through it.

About half an hour later, I have all the boxed articles laid out in the kitchen. I was just about to go take a shower when I hear some chattering outside. I walk to my door to see through the peeping hole and see three girls chattering non-stop in…English? Ok…this is getting too weird. I. Am. Not. In. A. Dream.

I listen again and sure enough, it was English…with snippets of French in between. And when I say English, I don't mean English with an accent. I mean English as if I had a neighbor from home coming to my humblest abode to visit me in the solace of my culinary world. I look through the peep hole again and can barely see the outlines of a blonde, a brunette, and a dark-haired girl walking into the apartment next to mine. Looks like I finally have neighbors…female neighbors. Hey, maybe I can ask them to help me redecorate my house…or maybe not. I hate having a lot of people anyways.

When they had all gone inside, I decided to go take a shower but turned around when I heard the word "neighbor" coming from their end of the wall. Mental note: ask carpenter to sound proof everything. And so I discovered that the sound was coming from a shaft in the ceiling that might have been connected to the other apartment. Good thing girls talk loud when they're with their fellow girls. And before I forget, mental note number 2: have shaft matted with lots of sound absorbing material.

"So…Claude, the doorman told me that you have a new neighbor Rin!" said a voice.

"Yeah! Have you met…er…him or her yet?"

Someone laughed. "No…not yet…but I should probably make him feel welcome. I wonder where he is from."

"He? What if you're living next to some snooty old woman who does nothing but tell you to pipe down?" They all erupted into fits of laughter.

"You wish your neighbor's a he right Rin?"

"Uh…no…unlike you, I don't ogle at every single guy who has a nice haircut and a cute face Selphie."

"Oh shut up Rin, I know you have the hots for guys too!"

"Yeah, well what do you know about love? At least I…"

"I know the A B C's of love just fine! Irvine is just a bit preoccupied with his…fellow supermodels!"

"Oh…don't be so sad Selphie. If you only had an inch…or two…or maybe ten over them you could be a supermodel too. Besides, your face is much cuter than theirs so there is NOTHING to worry about."

"Aw…you're too nice Quis…are you sure you didn't have an overdose today?"

"Shut up!"

"Ok, please don't fight here. I don't want feathers all over the place like the last time the both of you had a catfight. And besides…aren't we going to see that movie I rented?"

"Yeah…fine…" the two other girls said in unison.

I smile to myself and head towards the bathroom. They seem to be a fun bunch of people, although I wouldn't be sure how to talk to them. I'm not very good with words, and going through a long conversation is like dipping my entire body in a vat of boiling oil. Yeah, socializing is torture for me.

Enough talk. I'm sticky, sweaty, and I need that shower now. And maybe I'll pay…Rin or whatever a visit later.

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Rinoa's POV

I replaced the chain lock on my front door after Quistis and Selphie had decided to go home after the quadro-pack Pierce Brosnan James Bond movie marathon we had started earlier in my living room. Ok…so maybe watching James Bond movies isn't exactly a girl thing, but we can't help it if some hot spy rescues a damsel in distress and gets away with her to spend a hot night of…well, you know what.

I have to say, it is a good thing my friends clean up after their mess. After a snack of potato and fish chips with some tartar sauce, we found crumbs of this and that all over the kitchen…and boy was I about to turn green when I saw the state of chaos my apartment was in. Okay…maybe that was an exaggeration, but fortunately for me, we spent some time cleaning the floors and tables.

Oh, by the way, my name is Rinoa Heartilly. I come from one of the Chicago area's numerous suburbs and I decided that it would be best for me to study in France. I love the country, and I love the language even more. Thankfully, my tongue is very obedient when it comes to masking my foreign accent, so the French have been nothing but wonderful to me. I still look foreign anyways. I am…hmmm…if I'm correct a quarter Chinese, a quarter Japanese, and half-Scottish.

I was just about to turn off the kitchen lights and take a shower when I saw a pack of French cookies coated with bittersweet chocolate, a favorite snack of mine which I would always keep a bag or two of at the house. I then remembered that I had a new neighbor. Perhaps…I should give a peace offering or something? Nah, don't think of it as a peace offering Rinoa…I'm sure the neighbor won't bite.

I search my cupboards for the most decent looking silverware tray and arrange the cookies in a somewhat fancy way. Pleased with myself, I looked at the mirror and brushed my hair again, making sure it looked nice if the neighbor was a cute guy. Ok…I'm seeing someone right now but it won't hurt to be pretty around other men right?

I look presentable at least. Hot? Maybe if I wore something with more color and less sleeve but that should be of no concern to me now. I shudder at the thought of looking like someone prepared for a date if I stumbled upon the lair of…the beast called old neighbor hag!

I pace around the hall nervously when I exit my apartment with the cookies and give the door two knocks. After about half a minute of waiting, I saw my neighbor's doorbell and found it amusing that it had a silver lion's head on it with a red button in the middle. So my neighbor likes lions…

After giving the device a ring, I heard the chain lock being slid out of its socket. Not a moment too soon…the door was opened to reveal…whoa! I think my heart has leapt out of its socket!

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Squall had just finished storing all his kitchen supplies in their respective drawers. He was just about to test the stove when he heard his doorbell ring. His hair was still slightly wet from the shower he had taken, and he attempted to pat it try with the towel draped on his shoulder when he removed the chain lock. He opened the door and met face to face with the girl whom he saw walk into the neighboring apartment earlier. What really amused him was the fact that she seemed to be offering a plate of cookies. 'Well, how nice…a welcoming committee.'

She greeted him with a smile before speaking in rapid French. "Hi! You must be the new neighbor! I'm Rinoa Heartilly, and I live next door to you."

"Squall Leonhart," he mumbled monotonously as he opened the door to welcome her in. "Um…my apartment's a bit…er…if you don't mind, that is," he nervously said. 'Like I said, I hate meeting new people.'

"Oh, don't worry about it. Please, I have some cookies, and feel free to have them. Think of it as a welcoming snack from me," she said while offering him the plate.

After accepting it and setting it on the kitchen table, he turned back to her. "Thank you, by the way, for the welcoming snack."

She gave him a soft smile and leaned her weight on one log. "Ah, it's nothing. Say, you have a bit of an accent. You're not from around here are you?"

Squall scratched the back of his head and answered, "Well…no…I'm from the United States."

Rinoa's lips formed an "o" and she switched this time to English. "You are? I am too!"

'Yeah…and you're beginning to sound dippy,' thought Squall. "How long have you lived in Paris?"

Rinoa paused and thought for a while. "Probably four months…no…five. So, what brings you here?"

"I'm going to school here in Paris," he answered dryly. Not wanting to make her feel off, he asked, "What do you do here?"

"I go to school too. It's such a fun city, and never mind the rumors people make about the French people. They're really nice to you once you have an accurate or a near accurate accent," she informed him.

"Ah, I see," he asked her.

"Your accent sounds fine, except that since I come from the United States, it sounds very familiar to me." There was an awkward pause between the both of them.

"Um…Squall right? I see that you're having a bit of trouble redecorating your place…"

Squall looked around his apartment. "You can tell?"

Rinoa laughed and nodded. "Well, first of all, I think the furniture looks good where it is, but the decorative stuff is just, if you don't mind, a bit out of place…like on the floor maybe?"

Squall's face reddened for a moment. "Well…uh, I'm not a good decorator so I think…I think I'll need some help."

"Ah, I see. As your neighbor and new found friend, can I help you?" she offered.

"…yeah…whatever."

"Great! Let's start!" Rinoa exclaimed while moving around the room, telling Squall how this and that would fit best with his apartment. After about an hour, they were done.

"Uh, thanks. It looks better now," Squall told her as they stood at the one end of the apartment to examine their work. Squall had done the heavy lifting, while Rinoa would arrange the picture frames and little ornaments on the bookshelves.

Squall found Rinoa giggling to herself. "You're not much for words are you?"

He looked away from her. "I guess not."

"You remind me of a friend in high school. She was this girl who would normally say a thing or two and that's all we could ever get out of her…" She looked at her decorating job and sighed. "Is there a reason why you don't like talking?"

Squall gave her a shrug and sat down on the kitchen stools. "The reason is the question."

Rinoa looked at him quizzically before he continued. "I don't like talking much because…I'm not very good with words."

"Oh, I see." Another awkward silence.

"Hey, it's a bit rude of me to be letting you without giving you anything in so…would you like something to drink?" Squall suddenly offered her.

"Um…a glass of water would be nice."

With that, Squall was off to the kitchen pouring her a glass of water. When he came back, she drank it slowly and set the glass down. "Thanks…"

They chatted a bit more and after some time, Rinoa decided it was time to leaven. "Well, it was nice meeting you Squall."

"Yeah, nice…uh…meeting you too," he stammered.

She giggled and started walking towards the door. "If you ever need anything, I'm just next door ok?"

"Yeah."

"Have a good evening Squall," she told him with a wink.

"Yeah, you too."

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Ok…so how's the first one? I hope you like it but do read and review. I'll have my two other stories updated soon so just hang on there! Thanks!