Title: Predestined
Rating: K+
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Summary: Seifer never really did believe in destiny.
Matron's always told them that they were special, that there was something about them that made them unique; she liked to talk about destiny and fate and all of that other stuff that Seifer never really believed in, because he never really did like the idea about all of his choices and all of his mistakes being set before he could make them. He liked to live his own life, he said, and he wasn't going to let some "greater force" (or whatever it was that made all of those decisions for him) decide how he was going to live, how he was going to die, and everything in between.
Seifer assumes that destiny is just something people make up to make themselves feel better about the lives they can't really control. He likes to think he's his own person, even if sometimes he thinks that he'd rather be someone else, if only because, then, he might not have made the same mistakes as he did, and he might be a little more welcomed here, and he might not have as much blood on his hands. He doesn't regret what he did, not really – he knows he'd make the same choice if he were given a chance to go back and redo everything, but, sometimes, he thinks he'd like to be in someone else's position, with someone else's choices and just a little less ego and a little more reserve. Sometimes he thinks he wouldn't mind being a bit like Squall, although when he thinks that, he realizes how much alike they already are, and that wouldn't be making much of a difference, now, would it, because Squall'd just make the same choices he did, if given the opportunity, wouldn't he?
In the end, he guesses he doesn't really mind being the way he is, because, when he's sprawled out here, spread out on his back with the thin, white Garden sheets pooled around his bare waist, one arm wrapped as tight and possessive as it can be around Squall's pretty little hips, holding him closer than he's ever thought they'd get in this lifetime, and Squall sleeps away, face pretty and pleasant and nowhere near as rough and icy as it is when he's awake, he thinks he's done a pretty damn good job making his own destiny.
