Fatality I: Teasing

Lying there in Squall’s arms, I feel relaxed and comfortable before I get pulled down into sleep, my last thought a question: what was that all about? His actions were a direct counterpoint to the way I’d been in his office…almost like he really cared about me but couldn’t force himself to say it so he let his actions do the speaking for him.

My dreams are a mixture of images that don’t linger for long before they float away to be replaced by other, equally impossible pictures. Impossible because I know their chances of actually happening are as slim as the odds of Selphie not being hyperactive for one day.

When I wake up, to the motion of him getting up to leave, I grab at him, determined to tell him what I feel before waking up too fully and becoming scared to talk, managing to say, “You’re not going anywhere yet. There’s something I need to tell you.”

His brows arch, but oddly he doesn’t pull away from my grip although I know it would be easy for him to do so. “What is it, Irvine? Make it short…I’ve got meetings this morning.” His impatience bothers me, but I don’t show it, merely take a deep breath and think of the best way to put everything that I know I feel, bracing myself for an extreme reaction one way or the other.

“I can’t think of how to say this other than bluntly, so here it is: Last week while talking to Laguna, I realized that I care about you and can’t keep up this act of just being physical. I want to wake up and know that you’re next to me, to get inside that wall you keep up so that others don’t get close…. Squall, I want a relationship with you, not merely sex.”

At first he does nothing other than arch an eyebrow and look at me strangely, his emotions hard to judge through those gray eyes that right now look as if a storm is brewing within them. That can’t be a good sign, I think, and I’m proven right when he finally speaks.

“I thought I made it clear that I never wanted to hear you say that, Kinneas.” He’s using my last name now and that’s not good. “I don’t need to know that everyone’s talking about me when I’m not in a room, I don’t need the disrespect I’ll get from about half of the SeeDs and cadets here, and I sure as hell don’t need to watch you flirting with everyone else while claiming to care about me alone.” Obviously, he’s thought this over, but why?

“Screw what you need, Squall! Tell me what you want and stop caring about everyone else here! Sure, there will be the narrow-minded pricks that disapprove of us the same way they disapprove of Xu and Quistis, but they’ll get over it. I want you in my life and I want you to realize that someone out there doesn’t care just how often you shut yourself up and go into your own little world. Your eyes tell me all I need to know about your feelings. If you don’t care, then what was last night about?! Actions speak louder than words and your actions told me plenty.”

“I’m not like you, Irvine. I can’t shrug off the world and just do whatever or whoever I want to. I’m the Commander and if I don’t have everyone’s respect, how am I supposed to be able to give them orders and expect them to be followed?! What I want doesn’t figure in.”

My eyes find their way downwards despite my best efforts to keep looking him in the eyes. I need to know why he’s lying to himself…at least, I hope he’s lying. I raise my head again, staring at him, challenging him. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you don’t care about me.” His response, looking away with eyes closed, is all the answer I need.

Squall really does care or else he would have been more than glad to accept the offered challenge. But why is he pushing me away like this? I haven’t done anything wrong unless being emotionally forward counts as a crime now.

“You can’t do it, can you? You can’t look directly at me and say it because you can’t tell me an outright lie. Then why are you pushing me away? Are you scared of letting someone get close to you or something? Shit, Squall, just stop the cold bastard act and trust me. I’m not going to hurt you, I’m not going to run away the second you go back to being quiet because I know that’s how you are and I don’t fucking care.”

He almost hits me, goes as far as to raise his hand and ball it into a fist, but it lowers slowly while he turns his back, shoulders raising and I can tell he’s breathing hard though I don’t know what for. Those gray eyes glare at me once he turns back around and I blink a few times. Anger isn’t an emotion I thought him capable of feeling, but then again, my thoughts are usually proven wrong.

But it’s not anger that I hear in his next words, it’s anger mixed with something else I can’t identify exactly- pain maybe? “Irvine, just make my life easier and get the hell out of my room,” he commands, voice leaving me no room for argument. All I can do is get out of his bed, quickly search for my clothes, and get dressed with trembling hands, biting my lip hard so that I don’t begin crying in front of him.

The tears fall the moment I get into the hallway and I don’t care if anyone sees me and wonders, merely make my way there by memory, open the door, and collapse onto my sheets, more hurt than I’ve ever felt in my entire life.