Flower...

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TerrisMoon

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters of FFVIII; those belong to their respectable owners SQUARE-ENIX. I do, however own the adorable plot of this one-shot series. This is the first in the series, 'Flower'.

Author's Notes: This is strictly a Selphie x Seifer one-shot drabble.

Annoying that's what she was, he watched her as she plucked the yellow flower. Her emerald eyes examined the slightly curved petals and she smiled, letting her teeth show. Her soft hands held the delicate stupid thing; the long green stem was caressed by delicate long fingers. Seifer Almasy had never taken any sort of interest in the brunette, her perky nature and her odd way of always being joyful was sort of like a pet peeve. But she had dragged him out here, stating that he needed to let go as she so frivolously put it. His eyes ignored her for a second, and instead he studied his pefect manly fingernails.

"Hey Seify, do you want this flower, hm?" Selphie Tilmitt asked as she held the flower in her hands, twirling it with satisfaction planted on her soft face.

"Do you think that I'd want that?" Seifer retorted, disgust and annoyance lining his voice. He looked at her with a cocky grin and the brunette turned away from him, cuddling the flower close to her chest; wow she was so freaking annoying. The wind passed through the high, sweet smelling grass, and the day seemed perfect—hell, everyday outside of the academy seemed perfect. Seifer rolled his eyes at her—well rather her profile since she was trying to look away from him, but she was sitting right next to him, anyway. She turned around briefly, the sun played with her emerald eyes once more and she offered him the flower again. Seifer inwardly groaned and accepted the small gift, surrendering to her innocent actions. If only Rajin and Fujin could see me now, heh. he thought in an irritated way. The sun was still bothering him, and he ran a hand through his slick golden-blonde hair.

"Tell anyone about this, and you'll die Tilmitt, I swear it" Seifer threatened as he stood up, deciding that this little meeting of theirs that he'd consented to (he must've been drunk anyway when he'd agreed) was over.

"Whatever, Seify" Tilmitt's voice made him cringe, her voice was like some badly played violin solo—it was a screeching sound that he'd learned to tolerate—that was part of the reason he hated her. But if I truly hated her then why do I have this stupid flower in my hand still! Seifer needed to relax; he needed some time away from that brunette. But he still held that flower in his hand—as much as he hated it.