Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. Don't sue me. I'm poor.

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Love is a Dream

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He watches her out of the corner of his eye. She doesn't notice, and she talks casually with her friends, who nod and chuckle in response to her statements.

He comes up behind her chair and she twists her head around to look at him; her eyes sparkle like diamonds.

"I'll be your knight," he says and smiles, almost forgetting to add those last few words: "In shining armor."

She laughs and her tinkling voice fills his ears.

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"Will you marry me?" he asks on his knees. He doesn't have a ring or flowers; no gift, nothing to prove how much he adores her. It is a spur of the moment thing when he believes he can't love her more.

There comes a horrific pause.

"Yes," she says and smiles.

He smiles back in relief.

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He wakes up beside her in the dark. He can feel her body next to his, warm and comforting. He falls back to sleep, content and happy, his hand tangling itself in her silken hair.

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She knows it when he looks at her: his eyes are open windows to her. But she doesn't press him for the words. For that, he is grateful.

They both know it and that is enough.

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Squall awoke in the middle of the night and found his pillow damp with tears.

She's dead.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, wishing wistfully for the dream to overtake his mind again, to throw him back into paradise.

I love you.

A white feather drifted down through the ventilation system and landed on his naked chest. He didn't know how he had discerned its color, but he instinctively knew it was white.

He picked it up and held it to his lips, whispering the words he had never spoken: "I love you, Rinoa."

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No need to tell me how much I absolutely suck at romance. Review if you will and I will be awfully indebted to you. This is what my awful mind decided to spew out today when I didn't feel like reading about sugar plantations.