The Bleakest Silence
By fyre byrd
"The fuck do you want from me Leonhart?" Seifer asked, in sheer exasperation. It wasn't the first time that Squall had approached him like this. Seifer didn't know why Squall constantly sought him out even when all he ever got for his pains was a nasty comment which usually provoked a fight.
"I want to . . . apologize," he muttered, his own blue-eyed glare rivaling Seifer's for iciness.
"The hell you do, who put you up to this."
"No one," Squall managed through gritted teeth. Seifer knew that the effort of spitting out more than two words in one conversation was probably enough to cause some serious mental strain in Squall. The shorter man ran a hand through his shaggy hair and leaned on the chain link fence behind him. "I'm sorry that I punched you. It's not your fault that Rinoa dumped me and I should be used to your attitude by now."
"Nice fucking apology, can I go now?" Seifer asked, turning to leave. Squall grabbed his shoulder.
"What? What?" Seifer hissed. "I'm trying not to give into the desire to beat the shit out of you Squall, why do you keep harassing me?"
"I was only talking to you," Squall's eyes widened and he put on that adorable little pout that often made Seifer wonder what it would feel like to thrust his cock past those sweet little lips. Yeah it was just another reason to despise himself. Ultimecia had made it clear to him how disgusting his deviant desires were. "So talk then, talk," Seifer said, shoving Squall's hand off of his shoulder.
"Whatever," he muttered sullenly and walked away, heading in the opposite direction.
Seifer stood there for a moment, wondering what else the smaller gunblader had been planning on saying to him, then he shrugged and headed back to his room, lost in thoughts of self loathing. It was nearly curfew and so he had to go there. Otherwise he'd never spend any time in the little cell, alone. When he was alone and not doing something his thoughts grew even more tangled and painful. Seifer had been walking around since he'd first been possessed by the sorceress in a kind of haze of fear and hate. He spent every second in asking himself what the hell the point was, why he should get up in the morning and why he didn't just fucking end it. Truth was that Seifer was just to scared to kill himself, he knew that no matter what the mystery of death held for anyone else, for him it could hold nothing pleasant.
On the way to his room he ran into Squall, literally. Of course, they had rooms beside each other, which was why they so often came to blows now. The old team members that had fought Seifer while he was possessed by Ultimecia were the only ones who were trusted to have a room near him. So Quistis and Squall and Zell and Seifer were all in the same corridor. It must have been nice for them. Seifer didn't think he'd be happy no matter where they put him. Raijin and Fujin had put in a transfer for Galbadia, it was easier for them there, they didn't such a bad reputation. Seifer doubted that Galbadia would have accepted him as a student even if he offered to sleep with half of the faculty. Squall, he realized, had been looking at him funny for the past several minutes, but when Seifer's eyes refocused he kept walking, opened his door and disappeared.
Seifer unlocked his own door and entered the silence nervously. He sat down on his bed and took off his gunblade belt, propping it up in a corner. The he started pacing. It helped to be doing anything. Why am I here? What do I have left? There's no future for me. No one to love me, no glory or honour or even hate. Squall doesn't even hate me anymore, he's just indifferent. No one gives a fuck. I could just take my gunblade and end it. It would be so easy. The blade would slice my flesh like butter. Yeah, it would go in that easy and smooth. God, god, no. I`d bleed to death on the floor here and no one would care.
Seifer paced and paced, his eyes wild, heart rate accelerating until he began to tremble uncontrollably. Finally, he took off his clothes and lay down gingerly in his bed. It was worse in bed though. The thoughts came thick and fast. You killed so many people, you bastard. You don't deserve to live. What have you ever done that's worth anything. You've got nothing left to live for. The images that filled his head nauseated him and he sweated and shook and tossed in his bed. He couldn't control the trembling.
Seifer knew, with the rational part of his mind, that he'd caused himself to go into shock, but the thought that he was in shock only terrified him more. He couldn't stop it. It came every night. He saw himself jacking off countless times thinking of the blue-eyed beauty who lived next door. The little fights that Squall and Seifer got into had always excited him in the past. It was thrilling to be able to fight dirty, to knock around a guy who was equally matched with you. It had even been satisfying when they both got scarred in the climax of their worst fight yet. It had been the one thing he had left when the Sorceress stole his mind, his sexual desire for his rival. Of course, Ultimecia had seen his desires. She'd caught him stroking himself, and driven the pleasure out of his mind with self hatred. She'd made him hurt for his feelings for Squall. She'd made him hurt Squall. He could still see the pain and anguish etched in the pretty brunette's face. Seifer forced his thoughts away from the image of Squall writhing and twisting with pain, pain inflicted by his hands. Instead, Seifer heard the screams of the people he'd killed. Their faces bled in his mind, their mouths gaped with terrifying screams. Seifer's hair was damp with sweat and his green eyes were wild as he got up to pace some more, hoping to exhaust himself into sleep. He reached for his gunblade, even ran his finger along its razor sharp edge and watched the blood run into his hand. Then he dropped it, whimpering as he watched the blood pool in his hand and drip on the floor.
There was a knock at his door. Seifer jumped in fear, then forced himself to walk over and open the door with all the calm that he could muster, forgetting the blood that dripped down his wrist. It was Squall, of course. He stood in the doorway, gray-blue eyes filling with concern at Seifer's state of agitation.
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