99. Dreams
Quistis is muttering in her sleep, but it's become almost routine that she dreams and he wakes, so he's not surprised when his eyes slide open this time. Her hands are digging into the pillow, her eyes darting back and forth beneath the lids.
"Seifer," she murmurs fitfully.
Seifer. It's always Seifer.
"Don't..." It's as if she senses him, ready to slide out of bed and leave her alone for a while, because she hugs his arm tightly and he can't leave. "Seifer–"
Irvine wishes she wouldn't talk in her sleep. It's not making this easy.