AUTHORS NOTE
OMG I'm so sooo sorry! I was sure I updated this like ages ago but obviously, I completely forgot about it! Mestupid! Sorry! Won't happen again! (or, yeah…okay, let's be honest, it probably will…)
Anyhow, thanks all you lovable people who left such nice reviews! This story is hardly my most ambitious work when it comes to poetic language, but I kind of intended it like an light story and … sorry, I'm rambling on. Please enjoy this shoooort chapter.
Oh, and Griver is Squalls gunblade, if anyone may have missed that... (seifers blade is named Hyperion, just a piece of useless information)
Somehow, Squall didn't seem to be able to get any real rest. He tossed and turned between the unfamiliar sheets. His sleep was restless and he was covered in sweat. He woke up every half an hour and always with some distant memory of a resent, unpleasant dream. When he for the third time sat up in his bed, his breath coming short and eyes panicky narrowing the darkness around him, he gave up and got out of bed.
"Maybe I'm sick" he thought "Maybe I've got a fever our something"
It would be just like him to get ill at a time like this. He could imagine himself lying all helpless in his bed, Zell bringing some soup and Seifer standing smirking in the doorway. Squall felt even worse by the thought alone.
"Hyne, don't let it be a fever" he though while he silently slipped out of his room. His intention was to go downstairs for some water, but halfway down- he stopped. Why he didn't know. Something just seemed… wrong… Tall pillars of pale moonlight fell from the windows and into the hall and other then that light, the house were totally dark. A kind of dusky dark… He couldn't see very good and all of a sudden he wished he'd brought Griever with him.
Had it been a sound that caught his attention? He stood perfectly still and listened. The house let out all kind of whispering screams, audible only for the narrowing ear. Cracks and whistles came from all around, sounds of old pipes and tired wood. It was like the mansion had a voice of it's own, but it was nothing out of the ordinary. Squall was just about to continue down the stairs, when the sound came again. This time he heard it loud and clear. It was like a whisper, like wind blowing through cracked material, or like a distant song. That whispering noise was followed by something that sounded too much alike smooth footsteps on a thick carpet. Then came the silence again.
Squall was just one scare from running to get Seifer, cause now he realized from what room the noise came. With his heart in his throat he went back up the stairs and sneaked up to the green door thatled into Sephrahims chamber. Squall pushed againstthe door. It was locked.He let out a silent curse and went back to his room, as quick and silent as he could, and got the set of keys. On his way out he grabbed Griever, that rested on his made bed. In the doorway he suddenly stopped. He hadn't made the bed!
He turned around, but there it was in perfect condition, sheets and covers showing to sign of his restless dreams. Then he realizedthat he handn'tunpackedGriever either. Griever should be in its' case under the bed. With disbelief he looked down at the blade in his hand, but there was no doubt, it was indeed Griever. Squall felt his eyes widening.
"What the hell is this?" he whispered "Am I dreaming?"
The sound came again, longer this time, and even louder. Squall wasted no more time. What ever was going on, he was sure he'd find the answer in that room.
MORE OF THE AUTHORS RAMBLING NOTES
Yeah, me again, sorry. I just wanted to point out that this is the last chapter before this story gets completely out of control. I mean it. Not even I had any clue what was going on when I wrote it. And in this next chapter, it gets a little guy-on-guy(ish). But I've been thinking about taking that part out… so tell me what you think of that, okay? Thanks!