Disclaimer: I own nothing pertaining to FF8, Square or Alt-J. This is just for fun.
Chapter Three
Realization grew on me
As quickly as it takes your hand
To warm the cool side of the pillow
I'm there for you, be there for me
I'll hum the song the soldiers sing
As they march outside our window
Hunger of the pine
~ Hunger of the Pine – Alt-J
When Seifer's eyes eventually fluttered open, the first thing he realised was that the roar of the storm had ceased, replaced instead by a chill breeze that pawed gently at the windows like a hungry cat. The second thing he noticed was the disordered blonde head that lay sleeping next to him and the body attached to it breathing softly. The movement of her lungs inhaling and exhaling raised the blanket slightly with each breath and although Seifer's head felt fuzzy and slightly sore from drinking the night before, a strange sense of satisfaction interlaced with a delicate panic settled over him like a dusting of pollen on a heady summer's day in the fields surrounding the orphanage. Images from last night raced through his head like a film in fast motion – Quistis's beautiful face suffused with lust, his own large hands picking her up, running one palm down her long pale flank, every memory imbued with the rich golden fall of lamplight and the smoky taste of whiskey. He felt lightheaded and oddly happy. Seifer raised a hand and brushed aside a lock of long, golden hair to reveal a delicate seashell ear and Quistis's long, beautiful neck. It was all he could do to not sigh at the sight of it.
Quistis stirred and sleepily turned to look into the unreadable green eyes that peered down at her. Seifer felt a smile quirk the corners of his mouth, and couldn't help but flush slightly with embarrassment at being caught admiring her.
"Hey," he said.
Quistis smiled, looking a touch shy and unnerved. "Hey yourself," she said, her voice husky from the hangover that showed itself through the delicate darkness under her eyes.
Neither of them seemed to know what to say. How long had it been since either of them had taken someone to bed? Months? Longer? It was hard to say. Now here they were confronted with one another, coupled with the ghost of the night before that hovered over them, grinning lasciviously.
Quistis laughed then, breaking the silence with the beauty of a high bell ringing into a vacant blue sky. Seifer paused for a moment, confused, then laughed too. They bent their heads towards one another and haltingly kissed, still giggling at themselves, at the situation.
"Sorry for my morning breath," said Quistis, still smiling.
"It's ok, I forgive you," said Seifer, a grin transforming his austere features into something boyish and joyful.
"Oh, you forgive me? How magnanimous of you!"
"It's too early for words that long," said Seifer, silencing Quistis with a kiss.
She broke it to look out the window. "The snow," she said. "It's stopped, finally."
"Uh huh."
Quistis sat up straight, her blonde hair falling down her back, disordered and lovely. She pushed the curtain fully back to take in the still, silent landscape. It seemed more a painting than real life, the only movement being the gentle breeze that made the tree branches shiver.
Seifer felt the words catch in his throat but forced them out. "The radio should be up and running now," he said. "You can contact Garden, tell them about the crash."
Best not tell them about the rest though, he thought. I don't think that'd do your popularity any good.
Quistis gave him a brief, pointed look that he didn't know how to interpret. Suddenly his mouth felt dry and his hands awkward. "Do, uh, do you want any breakfast?" he said, cringing inwardly at himself.
The pointed look left her pale face and a gentle smile replaced it. "Sure," she said. "Not throwing me out so soon, huh?"
Seifer laughed and felt himself blush. "No, no," he said, shaking his head. "I just thought…"
"You thought what?"
That you'd think this was a mistake and run out the door and never come back.
"Nothing, nothing. Toast and coffee good?"
Quistis nodded, her face inscrutable. "Sounds good," she said. "My head is pounding. That whiskey is rocket fuel." She laughed and Seifer felt the awkwardness leave the room. He pulled on his trousers and a shirt, turning his back to her, feeling suddenly shy. Out of the corner of his eye he could see her watching him.
"Hey, creeper," he said, jokingly.
Quistis said nothing, but smiled at him. Damn her, the Ice Queen, as hard to interpret as ever!
"Not creeping," she said silkily. "Just looking."
He had nothing to say to that and left the room, heading swiftly towards the kitchen, face burning and heart hammering. The stone flag floor was icy against his feet and he relished it, wishing that that cold would rush up his legs and into his face. Seifer shook his head at himself.
It's just one night, grow up, an inner voice hissed. Get a grip on yourself.
Alone now, Quistis turned her attention to the turmoil that rolled and rocked in her stomach. It had been impossible to tear her gaze away from Seifer's beautiful back, his golden skin, the corded muscle at his shoulders. She felt sick. It was like being a teenage girl.
Get a grip on yourself, Quistis, she told herself furiously. It was one night. One stupid night caused by too much alcohol and not enough common sense and boredom from being trapped in this godforsaken place in a damn storm. You're not fourteen. You're a grown woman mooning over someone who tried to kill you and everyone you know.
What a night though. She couldn't deny that. Maybe it had been the alcohol that had stripped them of their inhibitions, but Hyne, what a lay Seifer was. Naturally it helped that he looked like a young god, but no one had ever touched her like that. No one had ever been so invested in her own pleasure like that. No one had been as strong and as gentle and as beautiful.
Quistis felt her stomach roll again. It was as if she had drunk the finest wine and knew now that she would never have it again.
Soon she would return to Garden. Seifer would remain here, unless he got bored and moved on to Hyne knows where. He didn't seem the type to stay in contact or open himself up to something real. Quistis reflected that he had known romance once, with Rinoa (of course, hissed a spiteful voice in the back of her head) and that had ended with him almost dying for her, then almost killing her, then having her swept away by Squall.
Hardly a recipe for a man who would open himself up to something real again…
Quistis sighed and glanced out the window again, taking in the bleak landscape. It would be best to be cold about this, she surmised. Enjoy what happened, enjoy even today with him, contact Garden, leave, put it behind her. There was no future here. It was a one-night stand – something to be enjoyed as a brief memory, not painfully dissected.
She felt something like hurt bloom in her chest. Seifer had rescued her from the crash, had taken care of her, fed her, clothed her even, and treated her as gently as he was capable of, which turned out to be very gentle indeed, much to her complete surprise. Last night had been beautiful and she had wanted it as much as he had appeared to. Against her better judgement, against the looming spectre of the past, she liked him. She liked him very much.
Quistis bit her lip, conflict rising within her like storm clouds in a blackened sky.
"Stop it," she whispered to herself. "You're a soldier. Not some airhead. Get a hold of yourself."
Her mind's eye flashed back to last night, unbidden. Seifer's face over hers, his green eyes flashing like fire-lit emeralds, the unbearably tender way he'd brushed an escaped tendril of hair from her face before leaning in to kiss her, his body tensed against hers. Quistis felt adrenaline flood her stomach.
Another sigh.
She pushed the memory down, grabbed her clothes and began to dress, feeling sore inside and out. She marched towards the radio, turned the dials and heard it come online. She paused, breathed in, breathed out, and contacted Garden.
When someone answered the other end, she knew then what she must do, and a coldness settled over her as gently as morning fog, comforting in its chill.
Seifer felt his stomach do an odd little flip when Quistis limped into the kitchen. The coffee was ready and steaming on the table, sending plumes of steam dancing into the air like skirts of tulle. The toast was almost ready, the bread slowly transforming from white to golden brown. The salted butter waited in its dish to be spread and melted.
Quistis had tied her hair into a hurred ponytail and her face was as pale and watchful as a little boy's. Seifer swallowed at the sight of her, taken aback at the odd strength of feeling that coursed through him at the sight of her, so delicate and vulnerable, but strong as steel underneath that white skin. It seemed ridiculous to him that one drunken night was having such an effect on him. Perhaps it would lessen when she left. Maybe that was for the best.
He suppressed a grunt at the thought and rearranged his face into an indifferent sort of grin.
"Coffee's ready," he said, with a jerked incline of his head. "Toast's almost done. Man, this hangover is rough."
Quistis nodded. "I've felt better," she conceded. "Straight whiskey is never a good idea."
"True enough," said Seifer, blanching against himself at the coldness of her words. He removed the toast from the grill and buttered a pile, before leaving it on a plate in the middle of the table for them both to pick at.
"You managed to speak to Garden?" he said, practicing indifference as he inhaled a slice of toast.
Quistis nodded. "Yes, just now," she said. "They'd been wondering what the hell happened to me. Apparently the storm was enormous – power down from Centra to Galbadia. They weren't able to contact anywhere apart from Balamb Town. They'd never seen a storm like it. No one was even able to fly in it – it's a wonder I survived at all, when you think about it."
"Weird," said Seifer. "Wonder where it came from."
"One of those freak occurrences, I guess," said Quistis with an elegant shrug. "Either way, they were shocked about the crash, but glad I'm alright." She paused. "They're sending out a craft straight away with the supplies you needed, and to bring me back to Garden."
Seifer nodded. "That's good," he said. "I'll be glad to get back to work. Cabin fever, y'know?"
"Oh, yeah," said Quistis.
Silence descended upon them as they drank their coffee and ate the remaining toast.
"Any idea how long they'll be?" said Seifer.
"A few hours," said Quistis. "They're sending Ragnarok. That thing flies like the wind."
Seifer nodded but didn't say anything. Eventually he cleared his throat and looked directly at her, his cheeks colouring slightly.
"It was, uh, it was good having you here," he said. "Just wanted you to know. Wasn't the nightmare I expected it to be." He gave her a wolfish smile. "Was good to have a bit of company for once. I mean, the seagulls are good for noise, but not much use for conversation, y'know?"
Quistis smiled back, one eyebrow raised. "Well, thank you, Seifer," she said. She suddenly felt like she was an instructor again, dealing with an arrogant young student, not sitting across from a man who she'd shared her body with mere hours ago. She took a deep breath and her expression turned serious. "Thank you though," she said. "For helping me. I owe you one."
The wolfish look left Seifer's face and was replaced by something serious and austere. "You're welcome. And you don't owe me." A pause. "I was happy to do it."
Quistis opened her mouth to say something, but no words came. Her chest clenched painfully, looking at Seifer's closed face, remembering everything, but trying her hardest not to.
A part of her wanted more than anything for him to take her hand and ask her to stay. A ridiculous thought. An impossibility. She could feel her heartbeat in her ears.
It was too painful to sit here with him, wanting him, all over one stupid night. She thanked him for breakfast and retreated from the kitchen, using the excuse of locating her things before Ragnarok arrived.
Seifer watched her go, one hand clenched around the coffee cup, knuckles turning white. A feeling he couldn't place rose up in him, before dissipating like steam into the air. Suddenly he felt as old as the stone in the walls of the orphanage, and as solid and stuck.
He sighed, drank the dregs of the coffee, looked out the window at the sea. It roared back at him as it always did, and for this small consistency, Seifer felt thankful, but no better.
Ragnarok's engines roared as it waited to take off. A group of SeeDs had arrived, Zell along with them, to remove the debris of Quistis's crash and deliver the original order of building materials and food that had been destroyed. Zell had fussed over Quistis in a way that had made Seifer's eyes narrow briefly, but beyond that he showed no more emotion that if a small contingency of ants had marched across the steps outside.
Zell said little to Seifer, beyond thanking him for making sure Quistis was alright. Seifer had restrained himself from mocking the younger man, although he was surprised to see a new strength in Zell's demeanour. He doubted that Zell could be as easily provoked as in the past, although a small part of him desperately wanted to find out.
Finally, the SeeDs returned to the airship, as efficient as always, and Seifer found himself alone with Quistis. Zell was in the cockpit of Ragnarok, priming her for flight and there was no one else around.
"So," said Quistis, looking awkward and shy.
"So," said Seifer, mirroring her without realising.
"I, uh, I just…" Quistis floundered. She steeled herself and forced herself to look Seifer right in the eyes. "Thank you, Seifer. For everything. I mean it."
Seifer gave a shrug. "It was nothing."
"It wasn't nothing," said Quistis, perhaps too fiercely. "It wasn't."
Seifer gazed back at her pale eyes, feeling strange and vulnerable and embarrassed. There were not emotions he was used to experiencing. He opened his mouth to speak, but found himself wordless. In his mind's eye, all he could see was her beautiful face leaning in to his in a moment of passion. He recalled her laughing during the night before, before everything changed, before everything went wrong, said the spiteful inner voice.
"It's fine," he said, trying to force some coldness into his voice. "You'd better get going."
Quistis looked searchingly at him. Seifer felt his stomach contract with the need to do or say something, anything.
"Alright," she said softly. "Alright."
The hum of the engines felt infuriatingly loud. Seifer gritted his teeth and gave a grunt of annoyance. Quistis turned and walked away from him. He reached out and caught her arm, before even realising he'd done it, but by the time he had it was too late to let go and he pulled her to him, feeling a fire ignite in his belly.
"Seifer, what-" Quistis spluttered, her face a picture of shock.
"It wasn't nothing," he growled at her. "It wasn't."
He pulled her to him and kissed her hard, one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand cupping her face. Quistis melted into him, letting him devour her, feeling elated, but confused; joyful and afraid.
When they finally pulled apart, there were no words. Perhaps there was nothing left to say.
Quistis touched his face gently, took in the fierce, pained expression that was etched into Seifer's handsome features. She smiled sadly at him and pulled away, walking backwards to the entrance of Ragnarok. She was still looking at him when the doors slid shut and she found herself alone in the elevator of the ship. She wanted to cry and she didn't know why. Quistis took a deep, steadying breath and prayed no one had seen what had just happened, not just because she didn't welcome the notion of questions, but because she wanted to keep the memory of it for herself, as perfectly preserved as a pearl in an oyster's shell at the bottom of the sea.
Seifer watched the ship take off. Quistis wasn't at the window of the cockpit. He didn't expect her to be. His heart was still thudding wildly in his chest and he could still taste the strange sweetness of her on his tongue.
A fury he hadn't experienced in years roared back to life in him, a sense of loss that yawned as hugely as a crater opened up in his chest and as the airship disappeared from view, Seifer had never felt more alone, or more alive. The impotence of the sensation was as infuriating as it was breathless.
Left looking at an empty sky in a field white with snow, Seifer steeled himself and walked back to the orphanage. He didn't look back.
Hi everyone, sorry that it took me so long to update this! Thank you for your reviews, I really appreciate them. Hopefully the next update will come along a bit sooner than this one.
~ Lux