Entry 44

Quisty's quarters

10:10 am

Well, well, well if it wasn't me again.

So I tried living an ascetic lifestyle just yesterday when I walked miles from Hell to Balamb back again. Who would have thought that this was the way the non-Hynes punished people, especially people who loved shopping beyond order. Was it my fault that I was that...oh dang, the word escaped my mind just now. Something that starts with the letter, 'n'. I remembered Quistis using that word; she thought Irvine was born to embody the word, whatever she meant. Seriously? I was thinking that she was becoming more of a Squallistic—becoming undecipherable in a hieroglyphic sense.

But that was beyond the point, boy, I really loved to ramble. When I got back yesterday, the sight of the elevator was beyond pleasure. It was orgasmic. No, the thoughts out of the gutter, it was really that...'OH. ELEVATOR.' I went in, mind you, I went in and I almost didn't fit...

"Hold your horses, severely injured here, make way!" I shouted.

One cadet looked dubious while I spoke, made way and asked me, "Is there any help you might need in going to the infirmary, Miss Heartilly?"

"No mister, thank you, but I would really appreciate it if you move your a--...just move, please? Pretty please with a cherry on top?" I begged. I begged, okay. If that was not downright ridiculous at all, I would not know what was. Timber's first princess, begging? Headline-worthy indeed.

"Ugh, I am not feeling comfortable too, if that helps."

He gave me an apologetic smile and I suddenly cursed on the fact that my quarters were still on the fourth floor. Fourth floor. Fourth floor. Soon the elevator stopped and people started filling out but then some still came in. At least I was shoved further back, and it took me a good angle on the suddenly-whipping-suit of a man, that stood in front of a lady by the corner end.

This man apparently, was flat on his back a while ago, because I saw him in my peripheral vision. Yes, I remembered him. But now, he found a comfortable place standing in front of his girlfriend, at least I assumed, and what, planned to make out? In the crowded elevator?!

I thought, "How rude, enjoying the ride and making out. Gross."

The floor stopped on the fourth and I laid my head back, without noticing that I was already there. I noticed the lovebirds stepping out, and much of my weariness, frustration, the need to see my boyfriend, aching legs and what not, I unintentionally shouted:

"Oh finally! The elevator's not a place to make-out, you young lovers! Get a room, geez!"

But upon saying that, everyone looked at me and I felt the whole elevator, the bunk itself and the people in it, stiffened. The two people stopped. Whipping around cautiously, without doubt, to look for me, was a not-so-very-amused-looking Quistis and a deadpanned-with-a-sexy-eyebrow-raised Squall.

Oh well, shit.

I looked back and happily announced, "Here's my floor!" and almost shoved the doors to close.

I turned to saw them and Quistis had her arms crossed, and Squall looked more bored than ever.

"You couldn't be making out," I said sheepishly.

"Because we weren't," Quistis replied, clearly far from amused. Lovers' quarrel maybe?

I was about to speak when Squall interrupted, "Trepe, 6," looked at her uh, concerned? Worried? Lovingly? Sexily? Okay, I don't know. He could be conveying anything, but I guessed it was Squall's look of I-know-you're-mad-but-I-am-really-sorry-let's-make-love-tonight look.

And so I said, "...That many?"

I was merely guessing the 'six'.

I seriously thought Quistis was going to snap in her, "What?"

So I tried to lift up the situation with a, "...number of kids?"

And she just gave up and I followed her into her room, momentarily forgetting any sense of privacy and my legs.

"Look, Quisty, I am so sorry! Seriously, I was just trying to make you smile. I am really sorry," I said.

She sighed and started, "Rinoa, it was just not good timing. It's not you, it's Squall."

"Was that why he was trying to kiss you a while ago?"

Quistis eyed me. "He wasn't daring to kiss me."

"Daring," I said, clearly amused, "daring was the word. So why was he—"

"He was just not into people hearing our conversation."

"Unlike some people, I, know."

Quistis smiled at me. Maybe she really had a knack of seeing people pitying themselves to make her feel better, which was of course, just another desperate attempt coming from me to point out an imperfection of hers. But no. She was far from being like that.

"...No Rinoa. I, for one, would not let anyone hear about what we're arguing about. It would be much more okay if you heard us fighting over a strategy in a mission, or a SeeD matter—"

"So boring."

"—or actually catch us in deer headlights, if you're getting my drift."

I looked at her and she went into the bathroom, as she threw me a glance. What would be something worse, that Quistis would prefer us seeing or overhearing than them getting caught trashing each other's mouth?

"Let me guess...he left a cold towel in your bed?"

From the bathroom, the instructor replied, "One, he's old enough to know that wet towels are not placed in the bed after use and two, we're not sharing a bed so I don't really think about that."

"One, so he was really having a bad habit of putting wet towels in bed? And two, don't tell me you haven't experienced that even for once when you sleep with him! And three, don't you wash his sheets?"

Quistis Trepe went out from the bathroom, undoubtedly, to confront me. Too many questions, but we all know Quistis, she didn't learn how to back out from a fight.

"I am not his maid to wash his sheets, I am his..."

Or not. I smirked.

Come on, say it! Say it! Saying that she was his girlfriend, would have to be so monumental, episodic even because I had never heard her say it! So having to hear THE word, coming out of her perfect lips, would have to be my century wrapped up in a day...



I fell back into the bed laughing because Quistis was so, cute, cute cute cute, oh Hyne, if only I could picture her face and describe her perfectly in that, sly smirk, shy smile, rolling eyes...

"Rinoa Heartilly!"

In a fit of giggles, I said, "What??"

She fell into her bed too and smiled at me. At least I made her laugh.

"I am not even going to hear the end of it!"

"Why are you...so...shy? Look I am not the type of ex who kills my ex's happiness," I said with a throaty laugh.

"...I don't know. It just feels weird," she said, biting her lip and closing her eyes for a moment.

I sat up from the bed and patted her tummy, in an effort to check if it was still flat. She slapped my hand away and sat up as well, laughing at my antics.

"After all of this time?"

"You're making it sound like we're married for fifty years. We're not that old."

"He's not, but you are!" And I stuck my tongue at her.

"But seriously," I started more serious this time, "you are like married for fifty years."

The beautiful blonde looked at me idly and asked, almost quietly, "We are?"

Into which I replied, "Yes. Promise. Swear from the bottom of my heart, and that makes you adorable. You click in so many ways, it's almost impossible. Doesn't it fascinate you how he thinks you just have the perfect waist curve to lock his arms with?"

"...He said that?"

I stood up in front of her and kneeled, all the while telling her that, "Don't let him know you know. I threatened to send him a cup of Pup's urine if he didn't answer when I first asked, and he threatened me to send Seifer away if I told you. So please?"

Quistis feigned being thoughtful and grinned. "What was the question?"

"And I am not letting you more than you know, sorry!"

"Seifer exile...not bad."


It was turn to her laugh. Into which I made a complete fool of myself by hugging her legs tight beyond belief, in an act of begging.

"I get it, I get it! Okay! I am not that bad," she said while making her way into her bathroom again.

I sighed and fell back to her bed. I smiled despite myself; if only they could look at themselves and see how much...

"Rin, I don't wash his sheets okay. Laundry room should serve its purpose for all times."

I sat up from the bed again, watching her from her bathroom mirror. So I wasn't still keen on giving up in knowing what they fought about.

"Yeah, who knows what erm, biological substances that dried from out there..."

"..Hyne, you're too impossible. And stubborn, and obnoxious and obstinate.."

And then she threw a blue whiff at me. I took a while to examine it and saw that it was a dress. I was not finished on my scrutiny, on how incredibly low-cut the dress was when she flung another, then another, and then another until I ended up having seven different dresses of different styles and of different colors on both of my hands.

"Hostile, aren't we?"

"No, help me to pick one of those. What to wear?"

She said, putting her hands on her hips and looking at me thoughtfully. And then it clicked.

"...You were fighting about these?" I could not believe myself. Such an...achievement. Who would have thought they could fight over a dress?

"Yes, because he wanted to wear one," said Quistis, her words reeking of sarcasm.

"So he has realized he is more beautiful than you are. Really, why?" I inquired.

"Well, he said yes on an impromptu meeting with the Deiling officers tonight, and by tonight it meant, three hours and forty minutes, without even asking me first. Rationally speaking, it would have been alright if I knew about it earlier, but no, he told me just an hour ago."

Well, I must have looked like half of an idiot on what she said when I asked, "So you're like...his date?"

Quistis performed her infamous eye twitch. "If you want to put it that way, yes. But by date, I guess it should entail having to ask first your prospect of a date before really saying you have one, yes?"

And I performed, "...oh." That was what I called the fish stunt.

"...And so I got piqued."

"...Can you use much more ordinary language? What the hell does 'pique' mean??"

"It's not pronounced that way—"

"—so you got mad, then?" I finished for her.

"Yes. Then, he told me I would still look fabulous wrapped up in garbage bags. Not exactly a compliment, I say,"
Quistis said with a motion of her index finger swaying left and right, as if to say no.

"Eew. At least he didn't call you a personified Balamb segregation scheme, and to avoid that, we exclude this green and black dress," I said wisely, with a bob of my head and dropping off the Flanel creation.

"...He called me a cancer cell once..."

I heard Quistis from the bathroom, with thoughts such as 'what the hell does cancer cell look like, or at least colored like?' and, 'what the hell, cancer cell?'.

"...Fan-tas-tic. Why?" I replied, while I shuffled the clothes in my arms for a closer look. I felt like I was in Project Runway, or something.

"Because I was growing on him and he doesn't know a cure."

I laughed at Squall's mental image saying that to Quistis, probably sprawled in the bed after a long night or in the morning after, or just blurting it out to her randomly while he was doing some paperwork.

"A-do-rable. Therefore, let's eliminate this fleshy thingy..."

"...Men and their chivalrous ways." She came out of the bathroom, wearing a fit black dress that reached up above her thighs, with a not-so-low V-neckline that showed a lot of skin on her back. I would have suggested a shawl, but whatever, she looked fabulous and who cares about that shawl?

I came up to her and dusted the hem, took off the clip from her hair which flowed like waves since she held it in a half bun, and wow, I had never felt so close to a garbage bag or cancer cell level of beauty until that moment in my life.

She smiled at me, and I smiled at her, in reply, "...That's why we love them."

Quistis came back to the bathroom to examine herself in the mirror when I cleaned up the rest of her dresses, folding them as neat as possible, considering she was obsessive-compulsive when it came to well...her life.

Just as then, I told her, "And yes, you really look fabulous even in a garbage bag."

Oh well. She took a lot of her time in the bathroom after that, deciding what to do with her hair or make-up. Quistis was the cutest thing ever whenever she fussed about her appearance, because she never tried hard, ever, to look beautiful. She knew how to make herself beautiful even with a garbage bag indeed.

And of course the night, or the pre-night, ended with Squall knocking on her door by five fifty-five and trying hard not to look hungry, or astonished? Or floored? Smitten? In love? I didn't really know but that was his look of, now-I-am-not-really-sorry-I-am-hoping-we-make-love-tonight look. I was pretty sure. And then they hit it off.

Well, for me, the arrival of Deiling officials meant tequilas, parties and dancing for the next few days. This was not the end of it. Define excited? Me.

N...narcissistic. Yes, that was the word!

You know you love me,


A/N: The Quall fandom is so dead. WHERE ARE YOU PEOPLE?! I know I have been gone for a loooooong time, but I am really sorry. School became hell. And yes, this story is about to be finished. Two more chapters then I'm off. But we, as in Spring's Rose and I, have something cooking, so watch out for that! Don't leave us here! You know I am a Quall fan, always have, always will! Reviews to make me happy, please? For a glamorous comeback, yes? I love you all!