What a Little Moonlight Can Do

It had been one of the stormiest nights in Balamb's history, or so everyone claimed. Maybe that's why it all began. It was still a blur of motion, colored fully in shades of grey and pearlescent disillusionment. While every minute detail was forever burned into his memory, the cause was impossible to know.

The wind was howling, spreading an esoteric symphony over every cliff and crevice of the land. Fain fell down in angry rhythms. Lightning lit up the sky and crash-landed where it saw fit… thunder quickly followed with a resonating baritone that accented the wind's cries.

He'd been yearning for sleep for hours. The exhaustion swept over him in waves, which seemed to undulate violently with every clap of thunder. Heavy eyelids hung upon tired jade eyes, but he was allowed no rest.

After a few hours of senseless waiting, a sliver of artificial light crept in from the other side of the room. His eyes traced the light to its source… his doorway. The door was silently creeping open, allowing more and more harsh, economically-beneficial brightness to desecrate the darkness of his dormitory.

He sat up slightly, reaching under his pillow on instinct. After straining his eyes to determine of his visitor, he came to the conclusion that the figure was too distinctly female to be anything else.

She quietly slipped into the room, shutting the door behind her. What moonlight had made its way past the storm clouds illuminated the intruder's form.

Slightly tousled, long honey hair rippled down a silk-clad body. She approached his bed with slight hesitation and overwhelming grace, then crouched down on all fours once she was on top of the Garden-issue mattress.

With catlike agility, the woman slid across the remaining distance, where a pair of guarded, exquisitely blue eyes was revealed. Her porcelain skin was slightly flushed at the cheekbones, a lovely peach color that was muted in the moonlight. Vulnerable, rose-hued lips were firmly set in an emotionless line.

"Quistis?" he asked, entirely disoriented.

She simply brushed a finger over his lips and stifled his speech. Silently, she sat back on her heels and slid the straps of her silk nightdress down her delicate shoulders. Her flawless skin glowed, even in the dim light.

Inch by inch, she was revealed to him. If he would have had the presence of mind to form coherent thought, he was sure that he would have been less passive. As it was, there were so many questions… there was so much confusion.

She was running her hands over his sore muscles, stripping away clothing until he was just as exposed as she. She made it perfectly clear what she had come for.

Again… if he had been able to think, he would have liked to think he would have been noble. Truthfully… he knew that he would have never escaped her grasp.

The scent of her skin was intoxicating. Her yielding flesh was flawless, but so cold. The only sound she made was the increasingly ragged rhythm of her breathing. Her battle-worn hands found his face and brought it to her own.

She was kissing him hopelessly. She was ravenous, encompassing him fully… searching for some remnant of fervor. When she came, her entire body trembled, and she clung to him as if holding onto every bit of warmth that permeated his mattress.

He followed her shortly, burying his face in her neck to kiss every bit of flesh his starving lips found. Her hands were splayed across his chest, and her hair cascaded over both of the wanton figures in the moonlight.

No sooner had he felt a soft sigh escape her lips than he finally found sleep…

The sun had risen, piercing the grey clouds just enough to fill the air with a royal spectrum of colour. He awoke slowly, hands searching for the paradoxical warmth he had been so vulnerable to last night.

Finding nothing, he questioned his sanity.

The answer to his questions came that night. He had no sooner pulled the sheets over his body than Quistis had pushed the door ajar again.

Reminiscent of the night before, she made her way to the bed. She was hovering over him with a glazed lack of emotion gracing her features.

"Why?" he asked, before he was prompty silenced with a fierce kiss.

Again, she did not speak. She simply caressed his skin with whispering fingertips, divesting him of any covering fabric.

He caught her wrists and kissed her palms, then gently removed her clothing… a gown of similar fabric, but in a scarlet hue that looked like blood in the darkness.

As he removed the garment inch by agonizing inch, he trailed kisses over her icy flesh, pleading with her to feel or respond.

No words were spoken, and when they had finished, she promptly began to sit up.

He reached out for her quickly retreating form and intertwined his fingers with hers. "Don't leave," he ordered, emotion threatening to betray his ragged voice.

She turned and gazed at him. Her bruised lips were curled into a desperately sad smile, and her eyes were filled with fear.

She withdrew her hand for his and gathered her clothing. She slipped it on and slipped out the door without a response.

Every night it continued. After at least two months, she arrived as usual. He met her at the door, pressing her up against the nearest wall. Her blue eyes flickered momentarily as he went through the rehearsed actions of undressing, not bothering to speak.

All he could do was truly live in the moments he shared with her.

He nearly collapsed when he came, but he found the strength to wrap his arms around her, trying madly to make her stay… just this once.

She traced a finger down his cheek and over the scar that ran along his forehead. She lightly kissed his chin, and breathed softly into his ear, "Please…"

Her eyes were masked; she wouldn't make contact with his own searching pair.

He tipped her chin up with one finger, but she just dropped her eyes.

"Please what?" he asked quietly into her ear, breathing in her scent.

She tensed, apparently unsure of the answer. A single tear carved its way down her delicate face and dropped onto his broad shoulder.

Surprised, he removed his arms from her and cupped her face in his scarred hands. She looked up at him, and he was entranced.

"Please…" she whispered again, this time leaning up against him and burying her face in his neck. "Please don't let me go…"

Her voice was cold, almost defeated. He wrapped his arms back around her and slid his hands possessively to grasp her hips. Her own arms instinctively wrapped around his neck.

Gracefully, he lifted her and carried her back to the bed, laying her down and crawling under the sheets beside her. He pulled her tight against his chest, with no intention of letting go.

"Seifer…" she breathed reverently, finally succumbing to sleep.

He could only tighten his hold around her body as she tightened her grip on his heart.

Author's Note: Alright… I really don't have words for this. All I can say is that I am not, and will not be, ashamed of writing this. Please give me some feedback… please?