A/N: Hello, and thanks once again for your support on this fic (: Writing this segment was extremely difficult, so let me apologise in advance if it isn't as good as the others. I hope you'll enjoy this sixth (second-to-last...) QuistisxSeifer conversation. (eeeesh mah angst writing abilities have dropped. Bahhhh.)

I find Quistis an extremely unique Square-Enix character because she is one of the few characters who has flaws that don't raise her likeability - in that way, she feels the most realistic and human. Do you?

lessons in ineloquence

#06: a g i t a t o

"This is embarassing, Quistis Trepe."

Seifer hung in his doorway, staring at the woman who had let herself into his dormitory while he was away. Quistis was now hunched over his desk with her head buried in her arms. She looked up to glance at him when he entered, and then turned away immediately in half-shame as his eyes narrowed at the redness in hers.

"I didn't think you'd reach your limit too," Seifer said, almost lazily as he slammed the door shut with the back of his sole. "What is it now? Did you lose it in front of Squall again? Or give yourself away in front of Rinoa?"

"I don't know how I'm going to face her ever again," Quistis spoke. Her voice was shaking. Seifer flopped onto his bed, looking for all the world uninterested in whatever Quistis had to say. She continued, "I don't know why I've become like this recently. I thought I'd come to terms with it all. I thought I could stay happy and contented watching him from afar. But you've been making me so confused ever since you came along..."

"Man, Quistis." Seifer sat up. "You had all the time and opportunity in the whole bloody world to get over him. But you haven't. It's not because you can't. It's because you don't want to. You hold an unrequited love like it's some pretty, bittersweet, sacred treasure. It's pitiful."

Quistis swiped at the tears that prickled to her eyes once again. "Shut up."

"Yeah? You don't want to hear the truth about yourself? You're sad." Seifer stood up and began pacing around the room. "Talk about maturity. Looks like you're the one who needs to do a bit of growing up."

"…You're not making me feel any better, Seifer."

"Using a nice tone, pretty, meaningless and ultimately futile words of consolation aren't listed as part of my job responsibilities. Being Quistis Trepe's personal punchbag is."

Despite herself, Quistis' lips twitched. "I'd prefer 'listening ear'." After a pause, she asked, quietly, "Is that what you really think I feel about you?"

"Guess it's a little of both," Seifer replied in a nonchalant manner. "You always look for me to have one or two fights to release your frustration, and after that you embark on your Squall-rant-of-the-day."

Quistis gave a bitter laugh. "Why on earth are you in love with a horrible person like me?"

Seifer didn't reply to this. Drying her eyes and leaning back in the chair, Quistis continued, in a tone that mixed both jest and true seriousness, "Is it because love pays no heed to reason and all that?"

"I'm not in the mood for another bout of philosophy, thanks. And don't you get too cocky, Trepe."

Silence passed for a few moments as Quistis gave herself over to contemplation.

Finally, "I'm very selfish, aren't I?" She turned around in the chair to face Seifer, who had stopped pacing and was looking out the window, pretending to be absorbed in the scenery outside. "Seifer, I'm sor-…"

"Don't say it."

He had spun around to meet her gaze, and that hard look in his blazing eyes was more than enough to render her speechless for that moment. "Don't you ever say it," he repeated.

Quistis stared at him for a long while before she turned back around. Her gaze fell helplessly on the objects that framed Seifer's desk. A penknife, beer cans, hair gel, a comb, tennis racquets, a shirt – (that was the limit of his tidiness, the best he could do to make room on his worktable for his most frequent visitor) - his notebook that he never wrote in, her pen, balls of her writing paper…

She blinked away remmnants of the tears that every moment threatened to leap to her eyes once more and recollected herself.

There had been an offer open to her and most other high-ranking SeeDs, and all that was left was to sign her name on the list. All that was left was Yes or No. In the seemingly brief span of twenty minutes, she'd found her answer.

She took a deep breath and stood up.

"I guess I should go. Thank you… for everything. From the depths of my heart, I thank you…"

Expressing gratitude for Seifer Almasy was something she would never have dreamt of doing until now. It was so laughable before. Unthinkable.

"Is this some kind of stereotypical farewell scene?" Typical Seifer. He had obviously caught a hint of something else in the tone of her voice. And something deep within Quistis smiled at that.

"Yeah. Yeah, I guess so."

"Because of Squall?"

"It's not just that!" Her eyes flashed.

"Then it's because of some altruistic, noble reason, huh? Like, you think you shouldn't be hurting me anymore or something?" There was the slightest tinge of sarcasm in his tone.

She clenched her fists and said, very quietly, "It's not that, either." Oh, Seifer.

"Well."

There was a long, pregnant pause as the two faced each other across the room, his gaze hard and intent and searching, hers resolute. "Good luck, Trepe," Seifer said finally.

This time a smile did reach her eyes and her lips at Seifer's reference to an old memory. "Good luck, Seifer."

And so Quistis departed in more ways than one. Within the week she was gone, sent on a long-term SeeD mission to Winhill for the restoration and revitalisation of the area. Seifer did not get to see her again.

(in a frenzied, passionate manner)