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Entry tags:
FFVIII: Broken Glass
Fandom: Final Fantasy VIII
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Love in the past tense.
"You want me," Seifer said, his voice harsh in the cold quiet of the night. He was watching Squall carefully, his eyes fixed on him, trying to read every movement, every breath.
"I did," Squall said shortly, and tried to avoid Seifer's eyes in a way that made Seifer's heart ache. Once, when Squall had wanted him, it'd been different. Squall would never have just said something like that. He'd let the ends of his sentences trail off into uncertain silence, he'd bite his lip and let the words die. But it wasn't the words that died, that night, it was something in Seifer. Squall had spoken in the past tense.
"Did?"
"Did. Do no longer. Whatever."
Squall turned, and Seifer bit his lip, hard, forcing some physical pain into the situation to try and eclipse the sudden disorientating feeling of being abandoned, even though he couldn't blame Squall for it. Even though Squall had been the one person that was always supposed to come back for more.
"Goodbye," Squall said, when Seifer didn't say anything, and Seifer's words spilled out, tripping over each other, even as he narrowed his eyes and tried to be tough.
"Can't you even say my name, just once?"
Squall turned slowly to look at him, his eyes glittering. Dangerous, like glass. "Seifer. I don't want you, I don't want any of this. So turn around, leave Garden, and leave us all out of your games."
"You don't want me to go," Seifer said, hearing reluctance even in the smooth words, hearing broken, sharp edges of the glass.
"Make no mistake about that, Seifer," Squall said, softly, shaking his head. "I want you to go. What I don't want to do... is kill you."
Seifer stood, frozen, in exactly that spot, until Squall had gone. Then he coughed softly, forcing a soft, bitter laugh, full of it's own broken glass now. "You just did, Squall."
Pairing: Seifer/Squall
Warnings: Angst
Rating: PG
Summary: Love in the past tense.
"You want me," Seifer said, his voice harsh in the cold quiet of the night. He was watching Squall carefully, his eyes fixed on him, trying to read every movement, every breath.
"I did," Squall said shortly, and tried to avoid Seifer's eyes in a way that made Seifer's heart ache. Once, when Squall had wanted him, it'd been different. Squall would never have just said something like that. He'd let the ends of his sentences trail off into uncertain silence, he'd bite his lip and let the words die. But it wasn't the words that died, that night, it was something in Seifer. Squall had spoken in the past tense.
"Did?"
"Did. Do no longer. Whatever."
Squall turned, and Seifer bit his lip, hard, forcing some physical pain into the situation to try and eclipse the sudden disorientating feeling of being abandoned, even though he couldn't blame Squall for it. Even though Squall had been the one person that was always supposed to come back for more.
"Goodbye," Squall said, when Seifer didn't say anything, and Seifer's words spilled out, tripping over each other, even as he narrowed his eyes and tried to be tough.
"Can't you even say my name, just once?"
Squall turned slowly to look at him, his eyes glittering. Dangerous, like glass. "Seifer. I don't want you, I don't want any of this. So turn around, leave Garden, and leave us all out of your games."
"You don't want me to go," Seifer said, hearing reluctance even in the smooth words, hearing broken, sharp edges of the glass.
"Make no mistake about that, Seifer," Squall said, softly, shaking his head. "I want you to go. What I don't want to do... is kill you."
Seifer stood, frozen, in exactly that spot, until Squall had gone. Then he coughed softly, forcing a soft, bitter laugh, full of it's own broken glass now. "You just did, Squall."