3. Freedom
"It's going to rain," Quistis comments over her morning coffee as she stands out on the balcony, the wind whipping through her hair. Squall grunts; it's too early for him to be awake and Quistis hasn't slept at all.
"You and Irvine." It's not a question, just a statement, and again, Squall's abrupt way of saying things catches her off guard. It's a wonder that she doesn't drop the mug.
You and Irvine.
As if they were together. As if a couple of trysts actually means anything, especially in Squall's world–he's got the perfect life and the perfect family. He doesn't need her anymore, and while it used to make her sad to think that, Quistis believes she's come to terms with the idea. At least, thinking about it doesn't make her physically sick like it used to.
"There's no 'me and Irvine'," she said quietly. She's waiting for Seifer, but she just...she needs the companionship, and honestly, if Seifer is really dead, doesn't that mean that Quistis has the freedom to do what she wants?
Squall just looks at her and Quistis knows he doesn't believe her–she hasn't ever been very good at lying.