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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Side Step
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Quistis
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Side stepping the issue is no longer an option. For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lassarina.
Quistis pushes her glasses up her nose carefully, not letting on a thing as he stands in front of her desk. It feels surreal, to him, to be standing in front of her waiting for judgement, like so many times before but not, because she is no longer the fragile instructor she was. War has forged her cold as steel when she has to be and despite the fact that now she even loves him, she can sit there and remind him that his position in Garden is unstable, that he can be asked to leave if he causes too much trouble.
When she gets up to leave the room, she is still frosty. He barely notices, caught up in noticing her long legs and that short skirt, and the quick precise movements she makes in cleaning up her desk. Then he shakes it off and walks round the desk to bring them face to face with nothing in between them. "I'm sorry," he says, quietly, but she shakes her head.
"You say that so often, Seifer. You say you're trying. You keep causing fights, getting into arguments. I can't always cover for you."
He wonders when he became the weak one, when she was no longer someone he wanted to protect, when protection was no longer his goal for the woman he loves. He wonders when she decided that he was a lost puppy that needed looking after -- wonders if, maybe, she knew all along.
"I'm sorry," he says, again, and she pushes her glasses up further on her nose, side stepping him and leaving the classroom quickly.
Sorry doesn't mean anything when it's used time and time again.
Pairing: Seifer/Quistis
Warnings: Angst
Rating: G
Summary: Side stepping the issue is no longer an option. For
lassarina.Quistis pushes her glasses up her nose carefully, not letting on a thing as he stands in front of her desk. It feels surreal, to him, to be standing in front of her waiting for judgement, like so many times before but not, because she is no longer the fragile instructor she was. War has forged her cold as steel when she has to be and despite the fact that now she even loves him, she can sit there and remind him that his position in Garden is unstable, that he can be asked to leave if he causes too much trouble.
When she gets up to leave the room, she is still frosty. He barely notices, caught up in noticing her long legs and that short skirt, and the quick precise movements she makes in cleaning up her desk. Then he shakes it off and walks round the desk to bring them face to face with nothing in between them. "I'm sorry," he says, quietly, but she shakes her head.
"You say that so often, Seifer. You say you're trying. You keep causing fights, getting into arguments. I can't always cover for you."
He wonders when he became the weak one, when she was no longer someone he wanted to protect, when protection was no longer his goal for the woman he loves. He wonders when she decided that he was a lost puppy that needed looking after -- wonders if, maybe, she knew all along.
"I'm sorry," he says, again, and she pushes her glasses up further on her nose, side stepping him and leaving the classroom quickly.
Sorry doesn't mean anything when it's used time and time again.
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