Unsent Letters

By: Twilight-shine

People continually pass by, their clothes covered in dirt, hands getting their rest, and relieved faces knowing that they have yet another day to prove their worth in this world of canvas tents and guns. They strive to be part of this ideal goal, this singular dream, for fame, fortune, the challenge, or at a deeper level, to save their loved ones, to do something about the nightmare, like me. I should be worried about whether I can make it here, but all I can ever think about is going home to you.

I sit here day to day, on this piece of metal they call a bed, staring at a blank piece of paper, my supposed letter to you. What am I suppose to write? Hey, how are you? I'm doing okay here… or maybe How's it going, Cid's girl? You haven't found another guy yet, have you? I can't send a letter like that… it's just not enough. Those words are flat, empty, meaningless, and you deserve so much more than that.

What I really want to write is how much I miss you, how much I want to hold you close, how much I want to tease you just to see that angry pout or to hear you call me a meanie. But I can't write that kind of letter either. I'm not that type of guy to be spilling out his guts out in a love letter, writing a poem to the one girl he loves. I'm not a sap, damn it! Somehow, you did it though, you changed me deep inside.

Still, there's another reason, the thoughts I keep denying and pushing to the corners of my mind. I'm scared, scared that I won't be going home to you, scared that I won't be able to see you again. I don't want to give you that false hope. I don't want to be the reason your heart shatters.

Sometimes I stop and think, What the hell am I doing here? But I already know. This is all for Home, for you, for your future. I can't stop now knowing that what I'm in just might be the answer to all of our prayers, to finally kill the monster. That doesn't stop me from wishing I was with you, though.

I end up remembering us and everything we've been through, which I think is a lot. All our adventures, all the times you punched me in the arm. Even though you tagged along, I never really wanted to leave you out, but you'll never hear that from me.

There's one memory that stands out the most, the one that I'll never forget. It had been a perfect day on the sands, not the scorching hot that it usually is. We were done adventuring… I probably teased you enough to last a lifetime, and still somehow I was still alive. Of course, you weren't talking to me, but you were still with me for some reason, lying next to me in the sand.

The sun was falling, slowly and gracefully from the sky. What was once a blue sky changed into a million different hues of oranges and reds. Not a word passed between us. Instead, our eyes watched the natural beauty of the event. I sat up during this time, letting the sand fall from my spiky, blonde hair and my crumpled shirt, still keeping my eyes to the sky.

I don't know what got into me, but I actually apologized, in an awkward, I'm-not-use-to-this way. I like to think that there was something mentally wrong with me, but I know it's really because you were still sitting next to me even when I'd pretty much crossed the line.

I felt your eyes focus on me, practically burning into the back of my head. I heard the sand shift as you sat up too and inched closer to me. You got so close that I could smell the fruity scent of your hair.

It only took one glance, one look at you. The way your golden hair glistened in the last rays of the sun, the peach color of your skin even with all our days in the sun, your slim figure, it all took my breath away watching you glow in the sunset. It struck me then, the simple, plain truth. You were and are unlike any girl I've ever known. You draw me into your childish charm, no matter how much I tell myself that I'm more mature than you and that we don't belong. It only took that one second when my eye met your bright green ones.

In one quick motion, my hand moved to rest on the crook of your neck and my lips on your own, not leaving any time for you to react. You were straight and stiff for a moment, but gave in, letting your eyelids close as mine had. I could feel your cheeks gave off, hoping that mine weren't doing the same.

It started a bit awkward, but in the end was gentle and sweet. Just the way your soft lips pressed against mine made me feel even more that this was right. We pulled apart hesitantly, exchanging flushed faces and a small smile, and turned our attention back to the warm sun setting over a dune.

I know it was your first just by the way you reacted. But what you don't know, and hopefully you never will, is that it was mine too. Just because I was a ladies' man doesn't mean I'd kissed any of them.

I chuckle at the thought. Yup, I still got it, still as arrogant as ever.

I'm brought back to reality as I notice Dr. P stare questioningly at me from the doorway. I just smirk at her and she looks away with her half-scowl, walking back out.

A blank paper still sits in front of me, begging for a drop of ink to soak into its grains.

I think of everything I've gone through in my mind and finally decide on what to write. I pick up the pen and let my hand do the work.

I fold the paper up and toss it onto the pile on a spare pack I'd brought and walk out of the tent to look for Baralai, Nooj, and Paine.

The pile gets taller day by day, the pile of paper you'll never see the words you'll never read, the letters that I don't plan to send.

Each letter holds the same line, the same message, a window to the depths of my heart:

Rikku, never forget, I love you.

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My first Rippal fic done:celebrates: (thought it's pretty short…) Actually, this is my first story in a long time. I've gotten into reading fanfics of Gippal/Rikku fairly recently and decided that I should write my own. I was listening to Home by Michael Buble and got the idea for the plot of this story. Amazing how a line of a song can spark your inspiration .

I hope I didn't write Gippal too much out of character. I tried to throw in some thoughts that he would have as his cocky self, but he is thinking about Rikku, after all. I apologize if he's a bit… dramatic… but a tough guy has to be soft sometimes, haha. Be on the look out for another one-shot I'm planning: He Thought, She Thought

For those who didn't get it (hope not!) or want a quick wrap-up, here's a summary:

Gippal is currently training to be part of the Crimson Squad and is trying to write a letter to Rikku. He ends up reminiscing instead, feeling that a simple letter wouldn't be enough to express what he wants to say to her.