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Whispered Screams	By : AngryAngel Category: Final Fantasy VIII > Yaoi - Male/Male Views: 6957 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Final Fantasy VIII, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
He was early. Incredibly
early, to do the truth even any justice.
For Seifer Almasy, who
usually showed up to class at least five minutes late, simply being on time
was a downright accomplishment. And yet there he was, 7:00am sharp, sitting at
the edge of Deling City High's fountain and cursing at the coldness of the
marble stone beneath his ass. It simmered through the thin fabric of his nylon
shorts and the crisp chill of the air cut into his bare arms and shoulders; of
course, only an idiot would wear a tank top at such ungodly hours in the
morning, summer or not. Unfortunately, there'd been a few too many girls and
guys telling Seifer just how nice his toned upper body looked in a wife beater,
and he generally took ample advantage of said physical asset - even if it
entailed the danger of catching a few nasty frost boils.
His emerald eyes screened
the yet empty school courtyard. Thin layers of mist and morning dew were
dusting the grass, and only the spots already kissed by the slowly ascending
sun were halfway bearable. Fortunately, the spring proved to be one of them.
His book bag was resting between his legs, providing at least marginal comfort.
Seifer glowered down upon the red goretex fabric, recalling his late night
attempts at working through his math homework. He usually tried to get by
without, but considering Squall's willingness to tutor him, Seifer had thought
it wise to at least give off the impression that he cared about his
academics.
In truth, Seifer cared
little about anything but partying and athletics. Football, track, baseball,
basketball - he excelled in any sport that he had ever bothered to take up. He
figured that he would end up a pro player; after all, he definitely did have the
skills and the connections. Nothing else but that really mattered.
And yet, for some reason,
Seifer had wasted scarcely a thought on sports at all throughout the past few
days. He had been supposed to talk to his football coach and to that Kiros
Seagul bloke also, come to think of it. Hands down, he had done neither, but
the prospect of possibly not being able to play anything at all that season
left him surprisingly unperturbed.
Thinking of Squall,
however, was an entirely different story.
At school, in his car, in
his apartment, at the gym, in the park, at the grocery store - hell, even on
the fucking toilet - there was no place that Seifer hadn't wasted at
least one thought on the silent brunette. This was definitely a crush alright,
and the blonde wasn't entirely sure how much he fancied that idea. He was no
rabid fan girl or docile little bitch that enjoyed stalking pretty classmates
for a pastime; he simply found the brunette a fascinating and worthy subject of
his interest.
That was what he tried to
tell himself, anyway.
Sighing, Seifer rested one
elbow upon his knees and perched his face in the hollow of his palm, frowning
at his own pathetic self. The "Prince of Jocks" was sitting on a
fountain at fucking seven in the morning, freezing his ass off and waiting for
his secret crush to give him math lessons of all things... Could things
possibly get any worse?
'...What if he doesn't
show up?'
Frankly, that idea too had
occurred to Seifer more than just once, and he didn't like it one bit. Nobody
had ever dared to stand him up, but it wasn't really his pride that he was
worried about this time. He had actually been looking forward to this, and the
prospect of Squall possibly not turning up made his insides churn.
'For fuck's sake, pull
yourself together, Almasy. He'll come. ... I think. I hope...? Fuck.'
Groaning, he dumped his
face into his hand and closed his eyes. Yeah, a whole fat load of good this
crush was doing him. He should have just stuck to the original plan and dated
some random dumb bitch like that Rinoa girl, or whatever her name was. At least
then he wouldn't have to pretend that he didn't care... pretend that he wasn't
gay, or bisexual, or what the flying fuck ever.
Instead, he had managed to
get himself into this.
"Trying to think, are
you...? Looks painful."
Seifer's head jerked up at
the unexpected and rather snide voice that had erupted from somewhere right in
front of him. Blinking, his eyes scanned long, slender legs in light blue,
washed out jeans and an almost too thin body wrapped in a tight leather jacket.
A pair of arms was crossed fiercely before that person's chest, a black biker
helmet clutched in one hand, and when Seifer elevated his gaze even further,
his emerald green eyes clashed with dusty grey ones that glared back at him
coldly.
"Squall," Seifer
said blankly, noticing how the brunette's face snapped into a frown. "Uh.
Hey."
Squall said nothing and
continued to stare at him calmly, his eyes unusually dark. Finally, he circled
the blonde's hunched figure and dropped down upon the brim of the spring next
to him. He placed his helmet between himself and Seifer, wordlessly staking his
territory. Seifer arched an eyebrow at the gesture, but remained silent;
obviously, if he wanted to play this game, it would have to be by Squall's
rules.
The blonde glanced at his
wrist watch, while Squall placed his black backpack on the ground between his
feet.
7:10am.
"You're early,"
he stated plainly and looked at the younger boy with an expression that
suggested surprise.
"I can leave
again," Squall responded coldly.
"That's not what I
meant," Seifer growled in exasperation, trying to wrestle up all his
patience. "Grumpy ass."
God, this was difficult.
Somehow, he could sense
that something had changed. Squall's aura was darker and more aggressive than
the day before. His voice held more chill than a whole battalion of
freezers. A wiser man than Seifer would have probably opted to stay the fuck
away from the dark haired youth, but wisdom had never been one of the blonde's
acclaimed assets. He was already too curious and too ensnared to simply give
in.
Suddenly, Seifer recalled
Selphie's words at the diner, wondering yet again at their meaning.
..: "On some days
he'll be very quiet and hardly say a word... then on others, he'll be like,
really angry and hurtful. It's kind of confusing." :..
"Do you want to do
this, or what?"
Seifer adjusted his focus
to the brunette's rigid face once more, and he nodded quickly before Squall had
a chance to stand up and take his leave.
Of course he wanted to
fucking do this, but the other youth wasn't exactly making things any easier,
either. If Squall would've just relaxed and taken a deep breath for once,
perhaps he wouldn't have been so goddamn uptight. He probably had his reasons,
but Seifer knew that there was little point in prying for them.
The blonde snarled
abjectly. He hated secrets more than anything, even if he did have a few
of his own.
Next to him, Squall's face
had soured with impatience. Fortunately, Seifer noticed this and swiftly
reached inside his bag to retrieve his notebook, holding it out for the
brunette to take.
"There."
Squall swiped it out of
his hands rudely and flipped it open in one smooth motion, then shoved a few
strands of hair out of his eyes to clear his sight. Seifer watched him
silently, marveling at the dark haired beauty's clean-cut profile. There wasn't
a single mark or blemish that tainted his porcelain skin; he looked so perfect
that it was almost surreal. Again, there was that sweet smell of apples and
cinnamon lingering in the moist morning air, clinging to Squall's hair and the
firm leather of his jacket.
Seifer gulped.
"Thanks for
coming," he muttered disjointedly, forcing himself to focus. "I, uh,
appreciate it. Really."
Squall flicked up his gaze
and glanced at him from the corner of his eye, but refused to break his
fashionable state of silence. He had magically produced a pencil from somewhere
and was now exercising quick strokes upon the calculations in Seifer's
notebook.
The blonde cringed.
"That bad, eh?"
He rubbed the back of his
neck in distress, while at the same time attempting to crane it around just far
enough to cast a better look at his papers in Squall's lap. Frankly, he didn't
give a rat's ass about his homework, but it offered a rather nice excuse for
him to move a bit closer to his object of desire and study his fine features.
Squall was an intoxicating
sight, really. If it wasn't for his coldness, he'd probably have girls and guys
flocking to him left and right, Seifer decided. On the other hand, he was quite
glad that hardly anyone acknowledged Squall's attractiveness, which was indeed
worthy of being worshiped.
Not that he had ever been
one to fear competition or anything...
'Gee, I should open up
a fan club. Then again, I could just save myself the trouble and hurl myself
off the next bridge, 'cause he'd sure as hell kill me if I didn't.'
As the minutes passed on
and the younger boy continued to correct his work in silence, Seifer eventually
grew bolder (or suicidal, whichever) and unobtrusively tried to slide across
the marble and closer to Squall's side.
Unfortunately, that damned
helmet was right in his fucking way.
Cursing inwardly, Seifer
glowered down upon the dividing object. Reducing it to shreds by mere
utilization of his best death glare, however, proved futile, so he ultimately
had to resort to more drastic measures.
The blonde curled his
fingers around the edge of the helmet and lifted it off the marble surface, wordlessly
holding it out to the brunette at his side. Squall looked up and blinked at it
in confusion. Seifer's lips curved into a faint smile, a gesture that seemed to
say "Look... I don't bite," and a silent plea was being issued from
the jade green depths of his eyes. He knew that if he'd simply put the helmet
aside, he would accomplish nothing. As absurd as the whole situation might have
been, he understood only too well that he needed Squall's permission.
To his great and pleasant
surprise, the brunette slowly reached out and took his possession from him, his
eyes boring into Seifer's as their hands almost touched. The grey seemed to
fade from those cold, hard orbs as they were studying Seifer's face,
acknowledging the blonde's respectful gesture, and there was a strange spark
between the two young men that neither of them could any longer deny.
Of course, that didn't
mean that they did not try.
Squall placed his helmet
off to his right side and lowered his gaze back to the notebook in his lap,
pretending to be coolness itself. Still - he tensed visibly when he felt Seifer
moving in to him, closing the space between their bodies. He was about to
recoil from the prospective touch, but Seifer halted before it had even come to
pass.
Where romance was concerned,
Seifer never made the same mistake twice. Well, tried not to, anyway.
'Hey... nobody's
perfect. At least I come close.'
Squall resumed breathing
and reading through Seifer's homework. He knew that the blonde was watching
him. Part of him hated him for this, but the other didn't mind too much - in
fact, he was feeling uncharacteristically curious. When he was around Seifer,
Squall felt like a little kid that was gazing at the beautiful, flickering
flame of a candle - wanting to touch it even though he knew it was going to
burn him.
Squall frowned.
He didn't even like
fire.
Irritably, he glared at
the notes before him. Why was he even doing this? He couldn't remember. The
soft hearted, useless idiot in him had granted Seifer's plea for assistance,
but where was that idiot now? What had he been thinking to agree to his?
Eventually, Squall simply
decided to blame this on a case of momentary stupidity that had befallen him
for what ever inscrutable reason and to move on with it, if only to get it over
with as quickly as possible.
"Were you even
looking at the paper when you did this?" he grunted and jabbed his pen
at the homework that was littered with errors.
Next to him, Seifer gave a
lopsided smirk.
"Occasionally,"
he lilted.
"Figures."
"That bad? Seriously?"
Seifer asked, drawing up his eyebrows.
"... Worse."
"Gee, you're awfully
encouraging," the blonde huffed, feigning frustration. "'Scuse me, I
think I'm gonna go kill myself now."
Seifer hadn't expected the
brunette to turn around and stare at him with a face struck by thunder. His
eyes were wide like those of a child, flaring white around the rim, and there
was something weird in those storm blue depths that Seifer couldn't possibly
understand, much less explain. Their grave expression almost frightened him.
What the hell? Had Squall
actually taken his joke seriously?
"Hey, hey, I was
jokin'," he quickly explained, vaguely raising his hand in a soothing
gesture. "Don't look at me like that. You look like fuckin' Bambi after
his mother got run over by a truck or something. What's wrong?"
Squall continued to stare
at him some more, then reeled his head aside. His jaw was awfully tight, and
judging by the way his tender jugular was moving, Seifer could tell that he was
swallowing hard.
"I know you were
joking," the brunette bit eventually.
"Then why--"
"Just shut up,
alright?"
There was no bite to
Squall's voice, only a faint drizzle of annoyance as he tried to force his
focus back upon the sloppy handwriting on the papers before him. Seifer studied
him quietly for a minute, before deciding to let the subject go.
It was the smartest thing
he had done in a while.
"By the way,"
Seifer started slowly, watching closely for Squall's reaction. "This is the
second time you're helping me."
The brunette kept staring
at the notebook and Seifer could see how his eyebrows mashed together.
"Your point?" he
bit.
"My point?"
Seifer repeated. "Uh. I guess I just wanted to thank you. That okay with
you, or what, your highness?"
Squall crossed a few
numbers out on the paper, using a whole lot more force than was necessary.
Seifer smiled at him and the lethal grimace that had carved itself into his
pale features.
"Whatever."
"You're a funny
fucker, you know that?" Seifer purred, caressing Squall's profile with his
eyes. "Hey, how old are you, anyway?"
"... Seventeen."
"That's what I
thought. Heh. Yup."
The brunette eventually
looked up at him, a question mark literally written all over his pretty face
while his eyes were dark with a scowl. Seifer snorted at the priceless
expression, elbowing Squall in the side playfully.
"Man, my balls for a
fucking mirror," he laughed, pointing at Squall's face. "I swear, you
should see yourself right now."
The brunette's high cheek
bones acquired a rather lovely shade of crimson at the older youth's words, and
he whipped his head around once more, trying to hide his blush.
"Whatever," he
growled.
"You sure say that a
lot."
"And you're
annoying."
Seifer winked at him with
half mock, half serious charm.
"Yeah, I know."
Squall merely shook his
head, but said nothing. Secretly, he kind of did enjoy talking to the ornery
blonde. It was so easy. They would simply throw pointless remarks and
insults at each other, dishing out and receiving like it was just some sort of
game. It was... fun, and it provided for some well needed distraction from the
painful, frightening track that Squall's mind was usually running on.
Carefully, Squall threw a
half-glance up at Seifer, who was now gazing out into the school yard. The sun
had finally broken through the clouds completely and its rays danced off the
blonde's hair and skin in a fascinating play of light. Seifer's hair was
glistening like pure, finely spun gold, and his skin could have rivaled any
expensive bronze statue's complexion. He looked great in that white tank top he
was wearing, and considering the chilly temperatures of a Deling City morning,
he was probably fully aware of it, too. Then again, maybe he was just really
stupid - an option that Squall hadn't entirely ruled out yet.
Either way - Seifer was
hot and a downright jock if Squall had ever seen one.
Involuntarily, the
brunette's eyebrows laced together at that thought. Why was Seifer so eager to
hang out with him, anyway? He had asked himself that question more than just
once over the last few days, but had never come up with a satisfying answer.
The blonde wasn't his "crowd"; hell, Squall didn't even have a
"crowd". Few people ever bothered to talk to him anyway, and if they
did, they disappeared again pretty quickly. Nobody wanted to hang around a cold
hearted, antisocial asshole.
Again, Squall blinked at
Seifer and his frown gradually smoothed out.
"Nobody"...?
Emerald eyes suddenly
zeroed in on his face, and Squall started at the attentiveness in Seifer's
gaze. Muttering something incoherent, he quickly dropped his head back down to
glower at the blonde's homework and pretend that he hadn't been staring.
Seifer had noticed the
strange look in Squall's eyes, and it had elicited his curiosity. The brunette
seemed oddly docile all of a sudden - friendly almost. At least he didn't look
like he was going to rip the next best person's head off, which was an
achievement all on its own.
The blonde couldn't help
but smile softly at that thought.
"So," he finally
said, his voice deliberately light. "What do you do on the weekends,
anyway?"
It was a harmless
question, but Squall glared at him all the same. Not that Seifer had expected
anything else, really. He grinned and fumbled with the fabric of his shorts,
smoothing them over the strong muscles that glided beneath the tanned skin of
his thighs. He knew that Squall was watching him.
"Why are you
asking?" the brunette huffed coolly, trying to ignore the hypnotic glow in
Seifer's eyes.
'So... green...' Squall thought as he felt like
drowning completely in ember depths, but he shook the notion out of his mind
immediately.
He couldn't do this.
"Oh... Just
curious," Seifer replied innocently.
"... I work."
Seifer cocked an eyebrow
at that piece of information, but Squall refused to meet his curious gaze
again.
"You work all
weekend?" he asked.
"Yeah."
"Why?"
Squall screwed up his face
in disapproval, irritably tapping his pen upon the surface of the notebook's
paper. If there was one thing he didn't like, it was being asked dumb, nosy
questions. Talking to Seifer was alright, as long as it didn't involve having
his private affairs pried in. They were no one else's business but his very
own.
"You ask too many
questions," he stated dryly.
"You don't give
enough answers."
The brunette snorted at
that retaliation, and he flicked some strands of chocolate brown hair out of
his face to let Seifer suffer the full extent of his death glare.
Unfortunately, the blonde didn't seem all too impressed.
Finally, Squall sighed in
defeat.
"That's 'cause it's
none of your business," he replied stoically.
"I'm just trying to
make conversation."
"Do something else,
then."
Seifer pondered that
remark for a moment, watching with interest how Squall was all concentrated on
his work. For some reason, he was starting to feel rather bold and giddy. After
all, Squall hadn't killed him yet, and he was actually talking.
This situation had
potential.
'Something else, huh?' He thought to himself, grinning. 'Alright,
something else you shall get then, my frosty lil friend.'
Sneering good-naturedly,
he leveled his gaze with Squall's face.
"Well then. Want me
to throw you into the fountain instead?" he offered with a daring smirk.
The brunette growled
dangerously in reply.
"No," he
snapped.
"Come on,"
Seifer chuckled suggestively, taking a hold of the brunette's arm and edging
him towards the water. "It'd be fun."
"Fun my ass,"
the younger boy barked irritably, which caused Seifer to laugh even harder and
tug at his arm some more. "Knock it off!"
But the hysteric shade to
Squall's voice only drove Seifer to ascend new levels of feistiness.
"Squally-boy's gonna
get wet..."
"Seifer..." the
brunette hissed softly, now shadowing the name with a subtle threat.
"Wet, wet, wet,"
Seifer chanted roughly, shoving and pulling at Squall's limbs.
Without issuing another
warning, Squall creamed the lively blonde over the head with his notebook,
though he was considerate enough not to place too much force behind the blow.
Nonetheless, Seifer let out a strangled yelp. He was swearing at the brunette
from under his breath, groaning and rubbing his aching forehead, but he didn't
stop laughing.
"Alright, you're
getting that back," he threatened mischievously, his hand still curled
around Squall's biceps. "You're taking a bath now, Leonhart!"
"Don't you fucking
dare--"
"Oh, but I do!"
"I'm gonna--"
"... Seifer?"
Both Seifer and Squall
winced at the painfully high pitch to the female voice that had called out the
blonde's name from somewhere to their left. They turned around slowly, groaning
inwardly as their eyes fell upon the slim, pink-clad figure of a certain
brunette classmate who was squired by two of her friends - one of them being
Michelle, the curly haired blonde girl that Irvine had talked to.
Reluctantly, Seifer let go
off Squall's arm.
Rinoa was looking down at
the two guys reproachfully, her dark brown eyes framed by thick lashes that had
received a rather thorough treatment with jet black mascara. Her fingers raked
through her long, silken hair playfully, before she let herself flop down upon
the edge of the spring, right next to Seifer.
About a split second
later, she jumped a good foot's worth into the air.
"Eek! Oh my gosh,
this is like, so cold! How can you sit here?" she whimpered at the chill
beneath her tender butt, and her friends immediately joined into her lament as
they sunk down beside her.
Seifer could have sworn
that he saw Squall rolling his eyes.
"Uh, yeah... It's a
bitch, ain't it?" the blonde commented, trying to withstand Rinoa's
look-over without letting his annoyance shine through. "Well, what's up,
ladies?"
The brunette girl smiled
suggestively, the oh so terrible cold apparently already forgotten.
Seifer couldn't help but
grin on the inside.
'Yep, this body works
magic.'
"Just seeing what
you're up to," Rinoa explained and crossed her legs, not without butting
her knee into Seifer's. "Hey, you're still coming with us on Friday,
right?"
Seifer paid her a weak
half-smirk as he remembered. He had almost forgotten about their rendezvous for
Friday night, or repressed the memory of it, more like it. At his side, Squall
had become awfully quiet and motionless; he had even stopped to violently cross
out errors in Seifer's homework and was now merely staring at it in a bleak
daze.
"Uh... yeah... uh...
I mean..." Seifer started hesitantly.
"Great. Don't let
Irvine and us down, 'kay?" she cooed, placing her hand on his arm and
leaning into him quite obviously. "So... what are you doing here,
anyway?"
Seifer resisted the urge
to sever her arm at the shoulder with a blunt object, and instead continued to
smile, though his face was already starting to hurt from the strain. He didn't
like this girl, nor did he like her friends, but they were rather hot female
specimens and he was a guy - he was supposed to like them. Then there
was Irvine, too... not that he really owed the cowboy any more favors, but the
auburn haired guy served as a good excuse for his false friendliness all the
same.
Considering the fact that
she had brought Irvine up in the first place, Seifer wondered whether Rinoa
understood that, too.
"Homework," he
eventually replied flatly. "Squall's helping me out."
"I see," she
said, before glancing from Seifer's notebook to Squall with an unreadable smirk
curving her gloss tinted lips. "Oh, right. Squall. I hardly even saw you
back there. How are you?"
The brunette didn't heed
her with a single look nor word, but Seifer could hear how the pace of Squall's
breathing picked up a notch and became unusually erratic. His eyebrows were
twitching, and so were his fingers that were clasping the pen. Somehow, the
older blonde couldn't help but wonder at that sudden change. Did Squall have a
crush on the girl or something? He studied the dark haired youth's features intently,
searching it for some sort of revelation, but Squall refused to look at him,
too.
'Come on.' Seifer thought with a grim smile.
'He's gotta have better taste than that.'
"Well, talkative as
ever, I see," Rinoa said with a careless shrug, causing her girlfriends to
giggle and whisper to each other.
Squall bit down hard upon
the inside of his cheeks. Him and Rinoa had practically been loathing each
other ever since their freshman year, when she had asked him to a dance and he
had refused. Maybe he hadn't exactly been... polite... back then, but that had
been no justification for her to go around spreading nasty rumors that some
students were all too eager to believe.
He frowned at the memory.
He hadn't been called a fag in a while, perhaps because Rinoa had eventually
grown tired of her little witch hunt, but he knew that "fag" was
still what some brain farted kids were thinking when they laid eyes on him. He
didn't care about their retarded opinions, no matter if they were right or
wrong, but all the same, he had never forgiven Rinoa for what she had done. He
wasn't gay. He wasn't straight. He wasn't anything, for that matter, but
that was none of that skanky ho's business. What did she know about him
and his life, anyway? She knew nothing. Not a goddamned thing.
Suddenly, he felt the
notebook being taken from his hands without warning, but he did not object to
that intrusion. Looking over, he could see that Rinoa was holding on to it,
skimming over the lines that he had marked and corrected.
His face was still
blanched of emotions.
"Jeez, Squall, you
made a real mess in his notes, you know," the girl said abjectly.
"How's Seifer supposed to read this now?"
Seifer turned to his left
and curiously screened over his homework again at her chiding words. Indeed,
the blonde thought to himself, the paper was a bit, well, crowded
looking, but that was probably to blame on the fact that he had made just about
every mistake in math history.
Squall merely stared at
his kneecaps, hearing Seifer mutter something along the lines of "Well,
that's kinda my fault, you know," but he was already beyond the point of
caring. He suddenly felt like an idiot for believing that maybe, just maybe,
Seifer was different from all the other snobbish, superficial dumbasses at
their school. Yeah right - all it took was some ditzy bitch in a low cut dress
to make the blonde forget all about him.
Why ever had he expected
anything else?
"Oh my god, I
mean, just look at this!" Rinoa jeered and passed Seifer's notebook on to
her friends, who immediately commenced an annoying tirade of snide comments and
cries of outrage over Squall's efforts.
Rinoa, on the other hand,
quietly wrapped her arm more tightly around Seifer's, smiling a smile that was
much too calculating for her pretty features.
It was then that Seifer
finally realized that shit was about to hit the fan.
'Ah fuck.'
Seifer had seen it coming,
but he was still surprised when Squall suddenly leaped onto his feet and
harshly picked up his backpack and helmet. The brunette didn't say a single
word to him nor them; all he did was hoist his book bag onto his shoulder and
stalk off towards the school building.
"S-Squall! Hey!
Wait!"
The blonde didn't bother
about the girls or his stuff when he jumped up and ran after Squall, who was
quickly distancing himself from him, ignoring his yelling and his mere
existence.
"Squall! Squall, wait
the fuck up!"
It was no use at all.
Squall continued to walk away and he wasn't going to stop unless someone would make
him. Grunting, Seifer picked up his pace until he had come up closely behind
the furious youth. The moment he was within the brunette's reach, he curled his
hand around Squall's left shoulder and spun him around with more force than he
had originally intended.
Squall gasped angrily at
the gesture, violently trying to free himself from Seifer's hold, but the
blonde was unwilling to let him run off yet another time. He hated the dark
haired boy's touchiness; it was annoying the fuck out of him. At the same time,
he wanted to make sure that Squall would at least be pissed at the girls and
not at him.
"Take your fucking
hands off me!" the brunette in front of him commanded, angrily swiping out
at Seifer's arm.
"Chill the fuck out,
Squall," Seifer bit back, tightening his grasp. "You're acting like a
little kid! What the hell's wrong?"
The younger boy was
glaring at him for all he was worth, his skin stark with fury. Ice had returned
to his storm grey orbs, and they were narrow below dark brows.
Seifer didn't think that
he had ever seen the boy that angry, and he had already been able to have a
taste of Squall's rage on several occasions.
This was nothing like it.
"Take your hands off
me," Squall repeated slowly, his voice now sharper than the edge of a
razor's blade.
"The fuck I
will," the blonde retorted, his eyes a sea of green fire as the heat of
his blood was rising. "What the hell is your problem, anyway? Why are you
leaving like this? What happened?"
"What the fuck
ever!" Squall spat.
Seifer wanted to punch him
for his attitude.
"Don't fucking
'whatever' me, punk!" he snarled. "What the fuck's going on? Did
someone piss in your Cheerios this morning or what?"
"Don't tell me what
the fuck I can or can't do, Almasy! That's none of your fucking
business, alright? Go back to your ditzy little girlfriend and leave me the
fuck alone!"
"She's not my--"
And in mid-shout, Seifer
finally understood. Squall's lips were crushed to one thin line, anger and
frustration burning hotly from the surface of his eyes. That image wasn't so
entirely unusual in itself, but the blonde had finally noted the other, much
different emotion swirling within those dark and furious shades of blue and
grey. Seifer almost didn't dare to believe it.
Without his own volition,
his lips smoothed into a much softer version of his trademark smirk.
"Hold on..." he
said, his voice suddenly very husky and low. "You're jealous,
aren't you? That's what it is. You're jealous of her."
Squall's eyes snapped wide
at that chancy question, which had been a statement more than anything else,
and his lips opened and closed in the frantic search for words or explanations
that just wouldn't come to him. Dozens of answers and snappy come-backs echoed
loudly inside his head, but none of them seemed any useful at all. He looked
like a deer caught in the headlights, and Seifer's smirk only intensified at
that vulnerable and utterly cute expression.
The blonde was sure that
he had hit the nail smack on the head.
"Squall..." he
cooed, tasting the name on his tongue in a whole new flavor.
He was testing the waters
much too daringly as his ego triumphed over his reason, and his voice was so
very soft and taunting.
Squall's breathing
stilled. Seifer's fingers had stopped digging into his shoulder like ironclad
vices, but it didn't make a difference anymore. His words had been a verbal
punch in the face.
Seifer, on the other hand,
was feeling rather satisfied with himself. This was almost too good to be true.
Squall was actually jealous - an emotion that he had hardly thought the
brunette capable of feeling. He wanted to ensure that he hadn't made a mistake,
though he believed that Squall's flustered reaction had already proved him
correct.
The brunette knew it, too;
he knew what Seifer was thinking, or at least he had a pretty good idea. Blood
shot to his cheeks at the realization of what he had unconsciously given away
and the thought of what Seifer could have interpreted into everything that
impulse had driven him to say. Trembling, he took a half-step backwards, out of
Seifer's reach, his face frozen into a mask.
"Fuck you!" he
shouted, the spiteful words interlaced with deepest hurt.
The smirk was wiped clean
from Seifer's face at the broken look in Squall's eyes, and he finally realized
that he had gone way too far.
Squall spun around,
finally free from the blonde's captive hold, and as he charged down the path to
the school building he had no intentions of looking back. His heart was
pounding in his chest, racing hard and fast with anger and embarrassment as his
blood turned cold. He wanted to beat Seifer to the ground for his arrogance,
but at this point, the urge to simply get away from everything was much, much
stronger.
Something inside his chest
was aching, no matter how perseverantly he tried to ignore it. Seifer's words -
his display of cocky superiority - had hurt him deeply. He was no fucking toy
that the blonde could just play with however the hell he pleased; he had
feelings, too, even if he rarely ever put them on display.
Seifer watched the
brunette running away from him, but this time, he did not stop him. His own
mind was suddenly a mess of disjointed thoughts that made no sense at all. He
was so confused. Whatever he had said or done had obviously hurt Squall's
feelings, and that had by no means been his intention. Something inside of him
had flipped at the idea of Squall being jealous - at the idea of Squall wanting
his undivided attention. Taunting the brunette, however, had apparently been
the wrong measures to take.
'Yeah, you fucking
dumbass. Look what your stupid ego got you!'
Seifer would have probably
run his head square into the next brick wall, hadn't it been for Rinoa and her
chattering friends suddenly stepping up behind him. The dark haired girl was
holding his backpack and his notebook, and her face was screwed into a
fashionable frown.
"Gosh, what's his
problem, anyway?" she asked, her voice annoyed as she motioned into the
direction that Squall had chosen for his escape. "He's like, so
touchy. Tche. Just don't worry about him, Seif."
The blonde stared blankly
down the paved path that Squall had disappeared on. He felt like such an idiot.
He was no longer sure whether his impression of the brunette's state of mind
had really been all that correct; who was he to judge whether Squall had been
jealous or not? He hardly knew the guy. Maybe he had just seen things that he
had wanted to see. But of course, he couldn't keep his big mouth shut,
and now Squall would be all too aware of Seifer's interest. After all, he had
been painfully obvious.
"Hellooo?
Seifer!"
Irritated, he swung his
neck around, glaring at the brunette girl at his side. She shoved his
belongings into his hands, while igniting the sweetest of smiles upon her rose
colored lips.
"You forgot
these."
"Right... thanks..."
he bit, trying to keep his somewhat neutral fa�ade from crumpling.
It was almost too much for
him to bear.
"Well then, let's go
to class. Okay?"
Without waiting for his
reaction, she hooked her arm beneath his, smiling up at him seductively. He
felt like pushing her away, but something told him that he had caused enough
trouble for one morning's worth. He was surprised that he could produce any
rational thoughts at all, because his ears were still filled with the sound of
Squall's shocked voice.
Seifer frowned darkly at
the memory.
He had wanted to test the
waters, and instead he had drowned himself.
What an accomplishment.
Mechanically, he followed
her lead to the school building. He knew that Squall would be in class already,
probably plotting the best and most efficient way to ignore him for the rest of
his life. Seifer had no idea whatsoever how he was going to get out of this
one. He had royally pissed the brunette off, and at the same time clued him in
on his motives. Chances were, Squall now had a pretty good idea of his
not-so-secret crush and was most likely grossed out of his wits.
Groaning, Seifer decided
that this was probably his worst slip-up yet, and he had a good few already
chalked to his name.
Somewhere in the back of
his mind, he could hear the bell announcing the beginning of class. He paid no
attention to the crowd of students that had gathered in the hallways, nor did
he bother to listen to the stupid crap that Rinoa was blabbering on and on
about. He was lamenting to himself quietly, trying to think of ways that would
soothe Squall's frayed temper, but the most intelligent idea he could come up
with was that of a living goat sacrifice.
'Brilliant fucking
idea, Almasy. Not only will he think you're a fag, he'll also think you're a
fucking Satan worshipper.'
Mumbling something
disjointed under his breath, Seifer allowed Rinoa to usher him into their
classroom, wishing hard that she would finally shut the fuck up.
For once, his wish was
granted.
He managed to shut out all
of her pointless, bitchy bickering the very moment that he nailed his gaze to
the back of the room.
'... Oh, fuck.'
Squall's seat was empty.
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Whispered Screams