Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy X, nor any part of Square. Good thing too, or it'd be all sorts of yaoi everywhere!
Author Notes: I was inspired when I played through to Mi'ihen Highroad again. It kinda jumped out at me, and not exactly what I had imagines putting into words, but this is the final creation. A short drabble, and sweet as well.
III
It was wrong on many levels. He was Jecht's son, not Jecht, not the man I gave my heart to ten years ago.
But I still slept with him.
I couldn't tell him no when he was crying on my bed the night he found out his father was the cause of the destruction of Spira. I couldn't stop myself from caressing him when all he had asked me to do was hold him like Jecht never would and tell him it was okay. I didn't stop when I smoothed his blonde hair from his teary vision and kissed his wet cheeks.
He didn't stop me when I laid him on his back and cradled him as we made love.
But it was wrong. He isn't Jecht, no matter how much I wanted him to be. He had to write his own story, without me as a main character.
So when he kept coming to my room at night wanting to be held and loved, I was cold and shut him out. When he asked me why with fresh tears pooling in his eyes it broke my heart, because even though he wasn't Jecht, I still loved him with everything I had left of me. When I told him I couldn't love him because he wasn't his father, I heard his heart crash to the ground and fall into countless pieces.
All he ever wanted was to have something Jecht didn't, to prove that in someway, he was better than him. Hearing that the one thing he wanted more than anything alerady belonged to Jecht didn't help.
He didn't speak to me for days, and each night as I thought about the situation, my bed grew a little colder with the quiet sobs just beyond the wall.
Weeks passed and nothing changed. He kept his distance, occupying his time with Yuna and Wakka, telling stories and being the kids they really were at heart.
'A kid,' I thought to myself, 'Just like I was when Jecht stole my heart.'
One night I went to him, knocking softly on his door. When he opened it, I half expected him to close it in my face after yelling about how heart broken he was. To my surprise, no words were said, and he stepped aside, letting me in. I sat on his bed and waited as he closed the door and joined me. Nothing but silence was exchanged until his head rested on my bare shoulder, my coat having been discarded earlier in the evening. Slowly I wrapped my arms around him and he shifted into my lap.
"Could you ever love me like you loved Jecht?" he asked quietly.
I thought for a moment before I answered. "I already do." I brushed his lips with mine, forgetting how they felt so similar to Jecht's, and replacing it with a new memory of my new lover.
III
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