It had started with a dress, as all of Selphie's worst troubles seemed to. Sunflower yellow, her color of choice, but still, a dress. An ill-omened arrangement of cloth if there ever was one.
SMACK!
Vibrant,
(such a disappointing description)
clinging, and short above all things, because she liked to run sometimes when people weren't
(she sprinted like a fine-blooded racehorse across snow-bleached trabia)
looking. Hiking up long skirts, tripping over them, that was no fun. Much better to wear short things in the first place, cool and comfortable, and not be bothered about cloth tangling her legs. She had no idea how Quistis could stand wearing what she did.
And she knew it hadn't been Quistis' fault. She knew that, but she couldn't help wishing that Quistis had taken one more minute in the dressing room trying to get that strap to fall in exactly the right way, fiddling with her hair, hell, anything, really. Picking her nose, for Hyne's sake. Anything to have given Rinoa that extra half-second to figure out what to say.
It wasn't Rinoa's fault either, not really. Selphie knew that Rinoa had no idea how badly she'd made her feel in that Esthar clothing shop. She also knew that Rinoa would have felt sick with guilt for days- she was nothing if not kind-hearted.
THUD!
Nevertheless, it had been Rinoa who had unknowingly brought the matter to her attention. Something she never bothered with. Who cared about looks, anyway? It was silly. Selphie liked the way she looked. She liked her shoulders, her legs, her eyes, her hair.
So why had that hurt so much?
She'd almost bounded out of the dressing room, so pleased with the yellow dress she wanted to dance. Rinoa, standing outside, had opened her mouth- and Quistis had emerged, so shyly, from the opposite dressing room, bathed in creamy blue floor-length silk. She'd looked like a faerie queen.
Selphie had only hesitated a
(stricken)
moment before joining Rinoa in exclamations over the blue dress.
CRASH!
She panted a bit and watched as the T-Rex fell to the earth. Even with sleep junctioned to her nunchaku, the red giant was still a pain.
At once she felt guilty. It was silly, of course- she'd sent many T-Rexaurs to their deaths. But she'd never killed one just because she was
(miserable)
pissed off.
So what if she wasn't pretty? She didn't need to be pretty. Rinoa and Quistis filled that role nicely. There were plenty of good things about her. Right? She was cheerful, smart, outgoing, energetic, dedicated. She could dance and sing. She could play a mean trombone. She could run.
But I'm not pretty, am I? No, I guess I'm not.
She couldn't help herself then. She crept into the bushes and sat cross-legged on the ground, tears slipping down her cheeks. Silly grief for her snub nose, her flat cheekbones, her plain face, but she wished for nothing more at that moment than to be Quistis with her golden hair, sapphire eyes, and ivory skin.
Crackling in the underbrush brought her sniffling to an abrupt halt. She froze, and peered nervously into the bushes, hoping like hell it was a Grat. She could handle any of the monsters in the Training Center, but for someone- worse yet, someone she knew- to see her like this would be too much. Selphie Tilmitt wasn't supposed to cry. Leave that to the pretty girls.
Unfortunately, she was right in the middle of a cluster of thickly-leaved bushes and couldn't see a thing. She leaned forward and found herself staring at a pair of dusty black leather knees. She leaned back and realized that the unwelcome intruder was Squall.
She glanced back at the ground and could feel herself flushing. What must he think? She was scratched, dirty, covered with leaves and twigs. Her face was wet with tears- she was probably blotchy, too. She didn't weep very often, but when she did it was always a disaster.
She looked at Squall's feet and swallowed uncomfortably. He didn't seem to be going anywhere. She wanted him to leave so she could get on with it.
"Selphie?"
She stared miserably at his boots. Rinoa's boyfriend, the Lion of Balamb, Commander of B-Garden. He was one of the beautiful people, though she had only started noticing that sort of thing today. He wouldn't understand- even if he hadn't been socially inept.
He stood there for the longest time. She was going to cry again soon if he didn't go away.
Finally, he said, "What's wrong?"
What the hell? Squall? Asking her what was wrong? Was he okay? She covered her face with one hand.
"It's okay, Squall. I'll be fine. You don't have to." And I know you don't want to, so let's make this easy on the both of us.
Leaves crackled under his feet. Finally, she thought. He's leaving- and then he sat down next to her and cleared his throat.
"I thought I wasn't supposed to be a callous bastard to my teammates anymore." He said it wryly, and she felt guilty all over again- here he was, really trying to be nice for once, and she snubbed him. Way to go, Selphie.
"I'm sorry," she said immediately.
He shrugged. "Tell me what's wrong."
She exhaled gustily, blowing her bangs up. "It's girl stuff. Stupid. You don't want to hear about it."
He looked up at the trees surrounding them. "I don't know anything about girl stuff. Maybe you can help me out."
She stared at him, and wanted to laugh, cry, and hit him for being such an idiot all at the same time. Fine, then. It would embarrass the hell out of both of them, but he'd asked for it.
So she told him.
He was a quiet listener and didn't interrupt. He watched her face carefully, as if she were speaking in a different language, one that he knew but was not familiar with.
The first thing he said after she finished and resumed staring at the ground was, "Did you buy the dress?"
She was startled into looking up at him. "No. Would you have?"
"If I liked it, yeah."
She looked at the ground again, waiting for him to say something 'comforting' so she could put on a happy face and get the hell out of there.
He put his arm around her- it was awkward, clumsy. But well meant, she knew.
"Selphie," he began, then stopped. "You're really not...ugly."
Her head snapped around, eyes wide in disbelief.
"Gee, thanks Squall!" She burst into tears all over again, heedless of his alarmed expression. "Go away, okay? You're not exactly helping."
"No! That's not what I meant! Hyne!" And he grabbed her face in his hands. "You're beautiful, Selphie. You really are." He said it so softly, so sincerely. She stared at him, emerald eyes begging for the truth.
"You're beautiful," he repeated, and the words flew out of his mouth and into the air to hang in crystalline suspens. Each stopped to listen, and the moment stretched on, reaching for infinity before Squall cut it loose. He closed the inches between them with a kiss, and his words rang again with new harmony in both their minds.
They released each other, and both raised hands to their lips in faint surprise.
Selphie was the first to look away. It was chaste. Chaste, chaste, chaste.
Wasn't it?
She knew Squall loved Rinoa. And she knew that she didn't love Squall. It had almost seemed like an accident. An accident, yes.
She turned to share the thought but Squall was gone.

Six days later she wearily palmed her door. It opened with a quiet swoosh and she didn't even bother to turn on the lights. She was so tired. A three day mission in Galbadia spying on the new president with Irvine. His own spies had caught wind of what they were doing and they'd barely managed to get their objective completed before they had to flee. They'd spent the last three days slipping sleeplessly through the woods to Dollet, where the nearest contact was. She'd helped them make disguises to get them through security at Timber Station, and even then they'd nearly been caught. Every step of this three-day-turned-six mission had been a nightmare.
The danger bonus would be nice, though. She was looking forward to it.
Even more so was she looking forward to falling face first on her bed for about twenty hours.
She landed gratefully onto her bed and got a faceful of box. What the-? She reached out with her right hand and turned her bedside lamp on. The object that had so forcefully introduced itself to her nose was a flat box, wrapped in bright paper.
She tore it open curiously and at the first hint of yellow knew it was the dress. Her fingers fumbled for the tiny card that had fluttered to her bedspread.

If you really like something, you should get it. Don't let anything stop you.
I'm sorry I ran out on you the other day. I wasn't expecting what happened, and I didn't really know what to do. I think you know how I feel about her- and I think I know how you don't feel about me. But what I said was true.
A certain cowboy was unusually excited about this mission you're on now. Maybe this will come in handy?
Take care, sunflower.
-A friend.

Selphie smiled, relieved to know that Squall was okay.
And hell, maybe the dress would come in handy.