Author's note: this is both for Laguna Loire's character week, for the challenge FFVIII Character Week that I host on Tumblr (check it out and join!) and the prompt "The pianist", and for the February prompt of 3 sentence fic: "a first love & a last look"
ROSES AND WINE
The first time she sees him, he is just a stranger who comes to hear her play; when he later comes to compliment her talent, his eyes are fascinatingly honest, sparkling with enthusiasm, green pools that feel gentle on her skin, peaceful and tranquil as the Timberian sea she loves so much, and they grow warmer every time he comes to hear her play after that, sitting quietly in the corner of the tiny bar of Galbadia Hotel, and she often wonders what he thinks of her eyes, if he realizes that she's watching him as he's watching her, and how she loves to feel his gentle gaze on her as she plays, slowly building a melody that could encompass everything he has come to represent: her first love, her first song.
The last time he comes to listen to her play, she is no longer a stranger who plays the piano, dressed in a kind of sensual wine-colored dress and yet smelling innocent like white roses; her music has seeped into his bones, drawing him to this bar like he's a moth dancing around a flame, and he surrenders, as his friends tease him about it, because amidst the war, the suffering of innocent people, the useless violence Timber has to bend to, she is a moment of peace and grace and elegance, and he often wonders if she realizes he's watching her like a fool, completely enthralled by her, and if she knows what she has come to represent: his first love, his oxygen.
The last time they see each other, they are holding hands in her room, eyes sparkling in the sudden revelation of a warm, tender, soft reciprocated love, with a promise lingering between them for her to write a song about his amazing, peaceful, and loving eyes, and for him to come back from war and hear her sing it; and this is what Laguna Loire will remember, later, when he opens his eyes on an unfamiliar room in Winhill, smelling of disinfectant and sweat, a bundle of pain: the sweet affection in Julia Heartilly's eyes as their hands stretched between them to prolong their last caress, their only caress, and the last look into a future that's now withering before his very eyes.
Author's note: I love this couple so much. I know their tragedy brings on Rinoa and Squall later on, but still...
This has been, as usual, checked with Grammarly, because I'm not a native speaker of English. If I managed to make mistakes even in three sentences (lol), please feel free to point them out!