DISCLAIMER: I do not own Squall or Seifer. I had a pair of muses but they kind of wandered off…. ^-^’
Author's Notes: The others characters and ALL song lyrics found within this fic are MINE. Please do not steal without permission.
This story takes place a few years after the game takes place. I don’t really elaborate on what happened to the other characters. It doesn’t really have anything to do with the story itself. I don’t really spend a lot of time on the other characters because they aren’t completely relative to the story.
All but one section is written in Seifer’s POV. The POV change is listed so don’t worry about being confuzzeled. :D
This was written for a contest on a SxS mailing list. Please read and review :D Feel Free to e-mail me comments at Sodoshiin @ hotmail.com
Thanks to Elise Maxwell and WolfPilot06 for being meh betas!
A Month Earlier
The room was dancing.
Not the just the people in the room.
The room itself.
Everything was coated in a warm, colorful, fuzzy haze.
There was a girl on my arm.
At least I THINK it was a girl…
I suppose that if my body hadn’t been pleasantly numb at that particular moment the tug on my arm would have been quite painful.
The source of the liquid hot, genderless friction beside me disappeared and everything got smaller, darker, quieter, and colder.
I was outside?
“Fucking SHIT Seifer! What the HELL were you thinking?!” the voice drummed in my ear, close to causing pain. “Man, Squall’s gonna shit a brick if he finds out you came home plastered again and you KNOW that!”
Yomi. It was Yomi….I think….
Not that I could really SEE him…
I could never handle those eyes.
By the time I had started to sober up HE’D gotten back to the hotel room. In the other guys defense they’d done a good job of hiding the evidence of my night out. They’d gotten me in the bathtub, my clothes in the washing machine and, more importantly, properly disposed of all the “equipment” I’d been carrying around in my pockets.
But somehow he still knew. He smelled it on me like the sharp tongued, human bloodhound that he was.
And the glare he was giving me was enough to scare a normal person into infinite sobriety.
Then again, I wasn’t a normal person.
But, surprisingly, he said nothing.
Not like he needed to. We’d “talked” about it every night I had come home wobbly or cloudy eyed. He wasn’t my babysitter, he wasn’t my mother, hell, he wasn’t even the headmaster anymore, but we all knew he called the shots.
I just couldn’t put a finger on the time when I’d stopped caring.
He turned and walked away. I went back to buttoning up my shirt.
He’d just gotten back from a date. I could tell by the cologne lingering in the room long after he’d gone. He’d been dating a lot since he’d joined the band. I’d never bothered to ask about Rinoa. She was part of a past that neither of us seemed to want to talk about.
I thought about going back now that I was clean, changed, and sober enough to appreciate getting plastered all over again. Sunrise was still a good three hours away. I decided that sleeping might be best considering we had a gig the next night.
There would be other chances.
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