Author's Note: Here's just a little companion piece to "What a Little Moonlight Can Do" to ease my boredom. I'm not sure if it's too much, or if I should have just left that project alone, but oh well. It follows the same events as the aforementioned piece, just with Quistis' point of view. Without further ado… here we go!

Disclaimer Don't own 'em. Enough said.

Stormy Weather

The rain was beating the window, pounding in angry rhythms. She placed a hand on it softly, icy skin against icy glass. She could feel the reverberations of crystal beneath her fingertips. It was like a distant song, elegiac and charming.

A streak of electricity spread across the sky, followed by a resounding crash. Quistis jumped slightly, removing her hand from the glass. She instinctively tensed, running her fingers over her neck and collarbone nervously.

With a sigh no louder than a whisper, she turned and climbed back into bed. She pulled the cool sheets over her completely, curling into a ball.

A few crashes of thunder later, she was clenching the sheets in her frigid hands. Suddenly, she pushed the covers off of herself and, with catlike grace, made her way to the door.

Silently, she made her way to his quarters. The hallways were dim, running on cost-efficient light. Within moments, she was at his door.

She ran her fingers over the cold steel, thinking of the rhythms she had felt just a short while ago.

With a slight toss of her head that brought her back to the present and a deep breath, she quickly pushed the memorized code into the door's keypad.

An audible creak muffled its way to her ears, and the door shifted open. She hesitated, ready to run back to the solitude of her own quarters. But there was an inescapable warmth here that would never be found in her room.

She quietly exhaled, taking a timid step into the Garden-issue dorm. She saw him sit up suddenly, reaching for the knife he kept under his pillow. She knew what it was, because she kept one beneath her own.

Swiftly, she stepped into the room and shut the door behind her. She stopped, suddenly short of breath.

He was studying her… judging her. Even when she could not be seen, she knew he was appraising her.

She drew in another shallow breath and walked over to the bed with as much poise as she could muster. She crouched on all fours and crawled over him.

Hyne, he was intoxicating. She instantly flushed, entirely vulnerable to his tangible heat.

She was exposed. She was weak. She was an imbecile.

Don't think at all…

His eyes took her in completely, filled with something like shock and muted longing. It took everything in her to keep her own eyes guarded. She knew it would be hopeless if she couldn't do that.

"Quistis?" he asked, her name rough and so desirable on his lips. She stifled a gasp and put a finger over his lips.

Without thought, simply instinct, she sat back on her heels and began to remove the last layer of superficial protection she had at the moment.

He was judging her. But there was acceptance in his gaze, however slight. It gave her the strength to reach out to him, run her battle-worn hands over his skin.

It was like fire; it was consuming her. She could feel him respond, could feel him accept her intentions. She wanted to cry out, speak… anything.

All she could do was try to fill her lungs with air. Every breath was like an opiate, enveloping her with the scent of summertime and the forests of Balamb.

She reached out for him desperately, just as another clap of thunder shook the ground. She was kissing him, searching for the warmth she knew he could provide.

The rain kept pouring down his windows, a sliver of moonlight illuminating his form. Burning jade eyes showed confusion, and something like tenderness.

He was addictive. He was engulfing her, filling her with something she knew he hadn't intended. Need. And it terrified her.

When they had finished, she was trembling. Almost convulsing. Whether it was because of the ecstasy of because of her newfound fear, it was impossible to say.

She had to escape. If she left, maybe she could forget. She would make herself forget.

Refusing to look at his sleeping, peaceful face, she removed herself from the warmth of his arms, dressed silently, and fled the room.

She ran as quickly as possible to her quarters, slamming the door behind her. She stumbled to her bed, crawled under the dishevelled blankets, and became lost in thought.

The next night, as if dreaming, she found herself at the same steel door, in the same grey halls. She pressed the familiar code into the cold keypad, and waited for the audible click of the door.

She retraced her steps from the night before, stopping to hover over the hungry form of Seifer. She knew he was searching her for something, something she kept hidden behind glazed eyes.

"Why?" he questioned, lips trembling slightly.

Her only answer was a fierce kiss. She poured out all her frustration and fear into it, fingers grasping for any bit of flesh they could find. His hands hodling her wrists firmly was the reason she stopped. With curious eyes, she watched him kiss the palms of her hands, jade eyes gazing back at her… barely visible in the moonlight.

His hands searched out her body, followed closely by gentle lips. She bit her bottom lip to keep from whimpering, closing her eyes firmly.

It was a haze of heat and tragedy, as desperate as it was beautiful. When they had both finished, she promptly began to sit up.

She felt his fingers intertwine with his, felt the connection that she was so frightened to make. "Don't leave," he whispered, ordering her gently.

Her eyelids fluttered closed momentarily, then she turned to face him. His lips were moist, his hair falling over his face so desirably.

Just until the morning… she thought, then smiled wistfully. No…

She slid off the bed and gathered her clothing. She slipped it on and slipped out the door.

When the door had safely closed, she leaned up against the heartless grey walls outside his dorm.

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 6… she waited. The only sound was the gentle humming of Garden's engine. She stroked the cold steel of his door briefly, then walked back to her dorm as if in a daze.

Every night it continued. She couldn't escape him, and he wasn't stopping her. It went on for a couple months, always the same… yet always different.

That night, she followed the path to his dorm. All the storms were out of season by now, but her eyes still held fear.

She pressed the code into the keypad in anticipation, and quietly stepped into the room. She jumped involuntarily when she was met at the door by his eager form.

He pressed her up against the nearest wall, aggression evident in his actions. She dropped her guard momentarily, eyes flaring with the sudden passion.

He undressed her perfectly, smooth movements rehearsed over the many nights. He'd learned not to expel his energy in trying to make her speak.

The heat was unbearable tonight. She had no choice but to be consumed. There was no fighting it.

They were exhausted after they came, breathing heavily. She felt her stomach drop when he wrapped his arms around her, not willing to let her go… not tonight.

She tenderly traced his cheek, down to his proud chin, and over the scar on his forehead. He'd won. There was nothing she could do.

"Please…" she stammered, putting the last of her energy into the words. She dropped her eyes, still unwilling to abandon that defense.

He tipped up her chin with his index finger. Panicked, she dropped her eyes.

He leaned into her ear, resting his head against her neck. She struggled to contain a shiver. "Please what?" he asked in barely a whisper.

Her body tensed in response. Her mouth formed answers that her heart knew were wrong. She couldn't utter them. Before she could control it, a single tear fell down her face.

Horrified, she gasped inaudibly and closed her eyes furiously.

He cupped her face in his rough hands. The heat was inescapable. She felt her eyes open and be drawn to his.

She knew the right answer. He wouldn't accept anything else, and she wasn't sure that she could, herself.

"Please…" she whispered again, leaning up against him in utter exhaustion. "Please don't let me go…"

For a terrifying second, there was no response. His hands were withdrawing. She had never felt so cold… so defeated.

Then… his hands were splayed on her hips, grasping them tightly. She looked up, unable to fight this new hope, and wrapped her arms around his neck.

She was being carried to the bed, gently and with the grace she had seen on the battlefield. He lay her down on the bed, then quickly joined her.

The blankets that had not been used that night were pulled over the two forms in the moonlight, and his arms were wrapped back around her… where they both knew they belonged.

"Seifer…" she whispered, savoring the taste of his name on her lips. It was her last conscious action before she slipped into sleep.

And there was no dream greater than the event that had just transpired. She was far from safe, but she was no longer cold.