Soundtrack: 'Colourspace' and 'II. Softlight' by House Vs Hurricane.

Author's Note: I feel terrible for cheating all of you lot who hoped for some 'steam', even my brother is whining about that. Truthfully, I never hoped or thought or wanted to write such a scene. I don't follow clichés and trends, nor do I write for minors or want to write for minors. Then why the rating? Sorry...No offence, but I didn't want people who have little...appreciation of literature to read this and then go all fangirl and ballistic over everything that meant nothing.

Also, no matter how much you want to deny it, Genesis is a very stubborn, narcissistic, pessimist who takes passion into account of his actions. He's this beautiful dichotomy of good and bad, hard and soft, beautiful and hideous, cold and warm, gentle and violent – you could say that he is bipolar or faces an identity crisis, I conclude it's just passion meaning he draws on the greatest of extremities.

Part III

Loveless at my abandon, I was occupied by my dull thoughts – livened with kitschy glamour due to the absence of the decorated, allure of my beloved. I have acted so carelessly over the course of the previous days, weeks, months – please do spare me the thought of one year. With such rash, impromptu actions, I seem to be heading towards liberation in collapsing inwards on myself.

I had come down with a strange fever not two weeks ago and the medics made a ruckus with shattered glass and metal instruments as they hastily made for a tube filled with my blood. I could not see their silly fuss with meaning at the time, however, now, on the top of the ShinRa building, I realised my sightlessness – from the fever and the childish ignorance.

I am not getting better.

Though I thought, perhaps it is anxiety, I can be quite worrisome on vast occasions, perhaps, these pent up emotions felt the need to release thus, somehow, this caused a delusional fever...

Try as I may, I fail terribly at making appropriate assumptions and I know, wise and well, I was always a very fragile thing – like glass mother would say and then she would coo how gorgeous and sweet of a son I was. That brings another thought, I have not seen my mother in a long while, however, I would be lying if I said that I would be far more euphoric to see her than Angeal's mother.

I only have myself to blame, I would apologise greatly for the cruelty and irrationality of my actions. I suppose an unsealing wound beneath my armour would weigh me down far enough to remind me of the unsealing wounds that I have so...inanely, inflicted upon myself. How little did I think, how silly of me to even consider that a man who lived his authority like a religious figure to their God, would dare to take regard of the meaning of my words. Their greatest similarity being that they would never, even with much coercing and limitless reasons why, they cannot abandon their post as if it held their very purpose in life.

My thoughts were whisked away by the gentle kiss of a late afternoon breeze. It seemed faintly woeful and that brought morbidity to what quirk remained in my dissipating smile. Breath stole by mild asphyxiation, I noted that life was far more fragile than I originally had imagined. Ah, yes, imaginations are wrought from false notions. How pitiful of me to believe in such mental hallucinations. For all these past years I thought of myself as a great being, one unstoppable, invincible, yet before birth I was granted with the reverse – I can linger only for a few moments before my living runs dry and time, cruel time, erases me from the memories of all.

I wonder, who would remember me? Instinctually I would suppose Angeal – that loyal, loveable lout – however, I forget him almost at once the thought entered me.

Rhapsodos, you are the greatest fool!

I had tried to safe guard myself on countless occasions, but with turning my head the other way to recollect those recent events, I can feel the sting as I strike my cheek and mutter a string of aberrant curses. It seems fool is not quite the word to define what I have been for the past weeks.

Taking hold of the rail before me, I stilled myself and let the sweeping of the wind will me into serenity. I longed to escape into the world of metaphysics, but synaesthesia took the better of me: the faint creak of the door followed by the gentle slam raked not my ears, but chilled my spine.

Can he not see that I want to be in the company of my foolish self?

"You lied to me."

I cringed inwardly and disregarded his words and approaching presence for the while, eager for his premature departure. His hand gingerly fell upon my shoulder making it quite known to me that he is unsure of where my injury lay. I shifted from him, securing a gap of three feet between us and I made it clear in refusing a union between the two of us. The murky sky with distant glowing orb shining an ashen light through the haze had my eyes in deep company. It seemed hollow and displeasing, that I recommended upon myself this place to hide away. The silky seas of heaven hung like lead in the city, and where diamonds were strewn across Minerva's flowing dress, little light of those glimmering stars ever shone through the gloom of Midgar.

Granted, vast moments later, he turned on his heel in a flurry of black and silver to take his leave, giving me a taste of his frustration that lofted in the air from an almost silent huff.

I find it rather...complex to comprehend the urge that prompted me to grasp his hand in a sightless flutter and ask, "How did you find me?"

"Why did you lie to me?" he countered, not wrenching my vile hand from his – noticing my own oddities in acknowledging mindless physical contact made me scorn myself with a mental bout of chastising.

Jerking my hand from his, I should have relied on subtleties and plucked instead as any befitting gentleman, as myself, would have done for I startled the poor fellow and snapped harshly at him, "Do not avoid my question with stating one of your own!"

Accustomed to my, dare I admit to it, capricious nature, he remained impassive, "I searched for you." he said and I turned to face that...man, beside me with eyes drawn to the floor like a moth to light.

"I did not lie." How egregious that was and I was certain that he knew.

With a cock of a brow and a common gleam in his eyes, he questioned me, "Is that so?" it seemed he drawled, as if in a drunken slander, but I knew it to be my doing, "You're a confident person and you have known Angeal far longer than I have, yet you fear his judgement upon your declarations of–"

"Don't say it!" cut I. Alarmed by the volume of my voice, he thought it wise it to eradicate the space between us, though I moved further and turned sharply away, "The word makes me sick."

"What of Angeal?"

I laughed indignantly, throwing an incredulous gaze at him, "Do you really think that I could–"

"No, I never did believe it." His eyes hardened, and I was held aloft in that colour that I dreamt of on countless occasions, that one that captivated me in their surreal vibrancy and he knew this, so much so that he extended an arm towards me with a more than beckoning sight upon his face.

Shaking my head in feigned dismay, I sidled beside him and shot a glare at the arm that refused to return to its person. He seemed quite giddy, an odd thing to say of Sephiroth, but it felt correct enough – strangely.

He grinned down at me and I frowned, "Lazard?"

Shoving the man away he smirked, "Oh please!" I cried, he thought it funny and laughed, "Can you not think of someone more appropriate? Lazard. Of all people! He's almost as flamboyant as I am and yes, keep laughing, I actually can admit to such flaws!"

"Flaws?"

I had been near to lose my ground on his speculation, but I waved it away and enjoyed the moment with a smirk, "Unless you find it somewhat...attractive?"

"About the other day?"

Laughing gaily at him, I noticed that uncomfortable shift and flicker of his eyes as he occupied himself with the ends of his gloves.

"Changing the subject are we? I already told you. I'll be fine."Smiling warmly, it felt worn and unconvincing, though I tried to straighten the errors and mask my woes with weak contentment.

"I want to believe you." he said, and my lips drew away from feigned emotions.

A silence settled between us. Usually I would not have minded the pauses that came about, however, those times were more of understanding and quite frequently I praise his disposition of speaking very little. I had never truly known the reason in why, yet I came to acknowledge that I knew him more in silence than when he shared tales and recollections of past events.

In hindsight, how very melancholy.

"You're not reading Loveless. That's a sight I thought I'd never see."

Pleased that he broke the silence, and even more delighted to hear the liveliness, even if just faintly hinted, in his voice.

"Want me to quote a few lines for you, then?" I asked with such haughty valour, I felt it right to indulge myself with the entrancing poem.

I was answered by the pressing of a weight in my hand, and I caught the faint glint of golden letters and leather bordered in filigree, "You left it in the training room. I have been meaning to return it to you since, however, I felt you wanted some time alone."

Alarmed and immediately frightened, I took Loveless with trembling fingers barely stilled enough to curl them round the edge. Avoiding his gaze, I swallowed thickly and there was a great sinking in the heart, as terror bleached my pallid face, "You didn't...read anything in there, did you?"

"No," he said, shaking his head, "The words sound better when you say them."

Slipping the grand poem into a fold within my coat, the familiar weight granted me both composure and relief, "I'm honoured."

A coy exert of merriment surpassed my lips to fill the quiet and it quickly became jovial.

"What?" he asked, probably wondering what the laughing matter was.

I sighed, bereft, yet mysteriously gay – whatever perspective to be taken, please take so, kindly.

Turning to him, I found that charming curiosity of his, if not for the aloof nature and corrupted mindset, I would have referred to him as sweet. Wistfully I envisioned a palette of colours strewn across the sky, a distant, warm, radiant light cracking through the dense clouds, "Two men, alone on a rooftop, no one around to be witnesses and the sun is just setting..." locking jade with sapphire, my hand skimmed over his – if he disliked it, why is it that he smiles so? "It seems morbidly romantic..."

"Genesis?"

Smirking, I tossed my head back like the actors of Loveless Avenue, red glove pressed so daintily upon my forehead and cried with great dismay, "Oh, if only it weren't you!"

Folding his arms in pretend despondence, he stated dryly, "I'm sorry to be the spoil of the moment."

All I could do in response was smile, and think, 'hardly'.

As the wind tousled my hair ever so gently, I felt the beginnings of great oratory breaking to brilliance and words to mark my most intimate of affections. I failed myself once more, but words cannot hurt, not if only I beheld their worth, "You could take me to the top of the spire and what would I see? Viridian seas of jade embellished into the fine ceramics of the Wutai, yet feared so by its creators. A harmony blends with a frame cast from streams of silver light shot down from the heavens by the endeavour of the circular Goddess of the night...spun into flowing streams to assist in crafting a masterpiece so godlike. You are, my living filigree –"

"And you are a dreamer," he interrupted, "A poet. A fanciful one at that."

I wanted to proclaim that I was not reciting words that I have written, nor those written by any other hand. I spoke of what sang within me, my own deepest, realms of hidden desires. I should have expected as much, for him to not dwell too far into the arts, just their 'fanciful' attire with feathered hats and silk sashes. However, I suppose I am too...inane to submit to my instincts and instead followed the hopeless theories of a word that does not succeed in existence.

"Fanciful?" I questioned, following his understanding of what my utterings were.

"You have a way with words. Who do you write for? Or are you really that narcissistic and aim to please only yourself? Don't get me wrong, if I bestowed your talents, I would do the same."

Narcissistic? "Jealous?"

"Maybe," he admitted, quite surprisingly, "Does that satisfy you?"

"And so the prince strives to satisfy me by pressing lies into the wind."

"Don't flatter me."

"I apologise. I must have forgotten that I am a narcissist."

He raised a brow and shook his head, "You have been visiting Lazard a lot lately."

Is there an oddity in that? "And what of it? A First Class SOLDIER does frequent his office. It is all part of duty, correct?"

Such blankness fell upon his face, questioning eyes in that very unconvinced manner and I had mock him with laughter. Apparently there must be a rather odd tune in my visits to the Director (had I not masked it all that well?), but it seemed so silly a thing to spark his concern and with such seriousness – I took it as jealousy, how else could it be? "Oh, Seph! Look at you! You're green! Tell me, is it my good looks or my charm?"

Hesighed at the notion, "I'm not envious. As for your question...how to answer that without dampening your pride?"

"I'm not that self-centred!" I snapped, jabbing a finger at his armour.

Humoured, he waved away at my hand like a child would swat at their mother's, "Okay then. As you wish to know... Neither."

I was so jovial, buoyant, then such gaiety flashed away from my features, leaving me perplexed and somewhat irritated, "Neither?"

"Yes, neither."

With a purse of my lips, a tilt of my head, and a quizzical glow in my eye I asked, dryly, "Then what is it about me that manages to gain your deepest of concerns?"

He chuckled, I do not see what is so amusing, "You're different. Fresh, artistic, unique, highly unpredictable – it makes you interesting."

That was...satisfactory.

"On highly unpredictable. I could call you a bigot and you would admire that?"

His face came before mine, eyes burning with a challenge, "Try me."

"And you like that in a friend?" I asked, pressing a finger to his forehead to remove him from the proximity.

"You could say that..." he took my wrist and pulled me closer, leaving me awfully dazed, yet I allowed him to despite the clear shock upon my face. He eyed me carefully, and I being such a strange fellow, scowled at him for he was my friend, yet enjoyed the comfort of him being so close to me that I did nothing more than that, "Although, I could also add that you're a lot more clever than you look, Genesis."

"Oh!" I snapped my hand from his grasp, "Well then. How intellectually stable do I look then, pray tell?"

"They say the more beautiful one is then the more...not so clever, to be discrete."

Giving him quite the incredulous look, arms folded and flabbergasted, I rationalised, "You think I'm beautiful?"

"Well...you look...passable."

"Passable?"I questioned, gazing into that handsome face of hardened marble, softened by the onslaught of an uncomfortable discussion, and I toyed with a lock of silver hair, "Sounds more like unrequited love to me."

"I'm not that desperate. Unlike some of us."

"Heavens, Sephiroth! For the last time it is not the Director!"

"What a shame, he's the Director to you now and not Lazard. I hope I wasn't the cause." he said while I lay a comfortable gap between us.

A contemplative silence fell amongst our company.

"What would you see in him anyway?" he quipped, I smiled.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe even for the fact that he's not hawking over my back trying so desperately to pry into my personal affairs."

"Now that sounds like unrequited love."

I sighed, had he known, love would not have been as unrequited as it seems. "I'm not in love, Sephiroth." I stated blandly, a dull oppression settling upon me.

He settled by my side and leant against the rail, his hand in black leather so very close to mine, "How tragically ironic. I would have supposed that you with the romantic poetry would lead such a lifestyle."

I shook my head, "You thought wrong my friend. How could you even garner the idea that I could love if both you and I cannot possibly comprehend its contents?"

"Both of us?"

"Well I know myself quite well, there are numerous conversations in my own company that not even Angeal has heard a word fall from. As for you, Sephiroth, how could you challenge the idea or assume that another is in its practice? How could a bigot even know let alone understand the concept of this love and the grounds that form the bonds of my insane ties to him." he quirked a brow and I noticed my error and quickly added, "The Firefly that is!"

"What a shame. You had my hopes up for a moment." he said dryly making me laugh – light and small.

"I like this." I said, enjoying a peaceful quiet between us, and allowed myself to lean against him.

Midgar was slowly losing its charm of little lights below as buildings began to darken and only the streetlamps were illuminated. A chill breeze disturbed my senses and I fled to warmth, which I only found in my dear Firefly.

"I could say the same."

"Sorry?" I brought my eyes up to his only to find that they were searching the sky.

"You have spoken little lately, however...today is somewhat different."

"I have had enough time to gather my thoughts." I said, quieting Hollander's voice with those dreadful words still in my ear, "You seem awfully concerned for me."

"I admit, as always, you are a cause for concern, but I know now–"

"That it has intensified?"

He refused to speak, the answer having been to clear to voice. I strangled a chuckle, a sharpness through my shoulder like a blade of SOLDIER, "Why, of course it has!" I hollered, "And you have proven it to me and I shall bother you no more as you will quiet on the subject of fireflies!"

Sephiroth lost his composure by my outburst, face torn between shock and confusion, "Bother me no more?"

My existence was dissipating – fading slowly, but ever so surely. Of course, there would be less of I as an impediment, or a companion. The bitterness took its leave and in its place, I felt the greatest sympathy and remorse.

"I am sorry. I had not meant to state it in such a harsh way."

The apology put him at ease once more and the city painted in the darkest of palettes held the attention of jade and sapphire.

"What would you call it?" he asked.

I faced him, unsure of what to say and many times words had failed to reach me. I would have left it there and then, turned and taken my leave. Despite the more than often unkind behaviour I have directed towards him, I never meant harm and there had always been a sense in that he knew this. I cared for Sephiroth, he and Angeal being the two figures in my life that I would openly call my brethren, so it would only be just to prevent his knowing of my ailment – I do not want to become a hindrance, a petty bother in the confines of his mind.

Instead of having left, I stayed, rooted to the ground and lost in his emerald gaze. How could I allow myself the honour of loving another man, especially one of such grand worth? It was pointless really, a blindness. I felt like a thief entranced by a diamond – knowing the consequences, yet determined to gain what I have no rightful purpose in possessing.

"Degradation." I stated with a sigh – he gazed at me oddly, longing for an expansion, "It's decaying me, this strong sense of yearn. Why must it be that I desire something that is far beyond my grasp?"

"I could help you."

"This is not like what you think."

"What are you trying to say?"

"What is it that I have left unsaid?"

"Why, the 'Firefly' of course."

"All of those that are followers of the fancy, illogical, triviality that we label 'love' are all obnoxious and ignorant. He is, fortunately, or unfortunately, not an ignorant bastard. Unlike myself." he frowned, so I turned away, "My Firefly would want to see me die very soon, whither into dust as I surely am." I gazed up at the black, starless sky – oh how I longed to see the stars once more, "The price of freedom...I would give all away for a taste of it."

"You've exhausted yourself." he said softly, as if not wanting to disrupt my pensive moment, "I'll escort you back to your room."

I waved him off, "No, no. I am fine."

He nodded once, bright green peering at me with uncertainty through thin, silk tresses of silver and he made to take his leave.

"I apologise..." I spoke up, and Sephiroth halted, "If I had offended you. I am very sorry, but I fear you'll only...dislike me."

"If you were apologising for lying to me, I would not accept it, otherwise..." he held out his arm in a courteous manner with the slightest bow of his head.

I chided him with a light snap of my fingers against his bicep, "You make me wonder, you know that."

"About what?" he asked, opening the door for me and motioning me in like a chivalrous man of nobility to a maiden.

In response, I stood in the doorway, arms folded and eyeing him quizzically, "I honestly do believe that you wish you are the Firefly."

"How would you put it? 'Don't give words to such folly.'"

"I'm being serious."

"As much as I am trying to be illogical."

"Don't tell me you have someone."

"I don't."

"Good!" I clamoured with great joy in the heart, "Because I'll be envious for sure!"

"Narcissist." he teased, "Would you really envy yourself?"

I scoffed, entering the building, "I already told you I am not even covertly narcissistic."

Sephiroth muttered something that sounded strangely like, "You're being too illogical." Yet I took no further account on it and allowed him to escort me.

Upon reaching my quarters, I felt the desire to keep him in my company further. I had come to the top of the building with the greatest sense of sorrow and woe, but in leaving my troubles were least on my mind. Sephiroth always had that ability. His companionship is a difficult one to happen upon, but, in its gain, many gifts are received.

Turning to face him, I offered a weak smile. "Your presence could be appreciated."

He accepted my request with a simple bow of his head and followed me through the door. I had been ready to ask his preference for beverages once the door shut with a soft click then he beat me with a question of his own.

"How are you?"

I was briefly taken aback, unsure of how to approach the question. Was there an underlying tone to it? Sarcasm perhaps? Though by the sight on his face it appeared to be an honest question, why asked is one on its own.

"...I am fine." I replied truthfully, "Yourself?"

"I meant..." Vivid green eyes flickered to my shoulder, before darting away to the white of my walls, "Never mind."

He knew. Was that what sparked his concern?

"Who told you?"

"The Director."

"Why?"

"I enquired." he admitted – I sighed, "I was concerned for you."

"You should have asked me!"

"Genesis, I couldn't even talk to you!"

"Don't raise your voice at me!"

"What is wrong with you?" he snatched at my wrist and I hissed under his grip. Immediately, his hand fled from me and an apology slipped from his lips. I felt the urgency to curse and soil his name with crude vernacular, however, refrained, and turned away from him, begging mildly for the brute to take leave.

"I am sorry."

Don't repeat! I thought, I don't want to bear witness to hearing your wretched voice especially in a way that pleaded for forgiveness and corrections. Redemption harboured none in this sense, and he lingered about behind me like a sour omen. So blandly, I saw his face again and took a seat on the coffee table offering a dainty smile that cleared impeccable skies with clouds. He knelt before me and I gained the utmost desire to surrender at that moment with the careless act of a well placed kissed on a marble cheek.

"Just one night."

"One night?"

"I found the north star. It shone so brightly against the blackened skies." I closed my eyes, head resting on cold metal and my voice faintly discernible, as I buried my face in the collar of his coat, "Night's heavy blanket seemed so weightless as it floated above me, catching dreams in the wind and compelling many in their wake. Mottled not her wispy veil with shining silver pearls glimmering in the weaves. Instead, her head peaked through the crowds of drifting clouds like buds opening to form the brilliant flower. Then I spotted, a brightly glowing, yet faintly luminescent orb hidden deep in her bosom..." I opened my eyes, stared up at the pallid ceiling, "Then I knew I wasn't worthy...And I never will be." He took my chin and lowered my head so my eyes fused to his. I smiled such an empty smile and I received the impression that he knew this.

That finger still to my face, brushed back a lock of auburn, it was wholly bizarre that the thought to reach me there and then was not the minute gap between us, but the gentle touch of Loveless against my side. Breaking from the silence I whispered in complete sincerity, "I could turn sour over time, bitter even. Hateful...do not think of such. But you trust me, don't you?"

"To what extent are you suggesting?"

Must he ask?

"Beyond the stars." I muttered in a hushed breath.

He had not complained or snapped away in disbelief at my request, instead his gaze appeared to question me, peruse what words and actions I displayed to him. In the end, his lips quirked at the very corners.

"That's limitless." Came the murmur, "Chasms can form. You have to admit that."

I shook my head in the slightest of stirs, "They won't. Not until you understand. I feel I will forget. No, I fear it. I fear that I will forget."

"Forget what?"

I smiled, fingers burning to touch his cheek, "This Firefly nonsense."

"I wouldn't call it nonsense."

"I make no sense."

"You're being melodramatic."

I embraced him, "Perhaps I am." he failed to respond, but I paid it no mind.

Sephiroth captivated me and my survival cannot be of value if I had lost the camaraderie that we share.

Pulling back from my hold, I held his face in my hands, "Sephiroth...I couldn't ever hurt you. I'll only be hurting myself as well."

"What do you mean?"

"Nature is diabolical...ShinRa is far worse. You and I are like frost and flame...yet we are..." so very much the same – and my lips quirked upwards, "I am narcissistic."

"What are you trying to say?"

Letting go, I stared up at the ceiling and spoke my despairs in a hushed breath, "Oh me, oh my...Oh woe is mine."

"Ours."

"Ours?" I took my gaze back to him, perplexed, "What have you got to be woeful about?"

"I have learnt today that I cannot possibly love, Genesis."

I smiled, "Had you not paused between 'love' and my name..."

My voice drifted off and he held my hand in his, the intensity growing sharper in iridescent green as he placed his other to the side of my face.

"Had I not paused?" he whispered.

I was speechless. My eyes failed to flee from his and I being so foolish leant into his touch.

"It would have been morbidly romantic."

"Should I remove said pause?"

"What are you insinuating?"

Sephiroth only gave a small laugh.

"I am sceptical about the origins of this Firefly. I feel I am close, but the possibility..."

I placed a hand gently to his cheek, a contentedness filling my person, "Go on..."

He removed the hand on my face and it came to rest over ours that were conjoined, "Tell me something, just one thing, anything to do with this person."

There were many things I could say, many of which would not shine too large a light on said person. However, I already had mentioned so many qualities, so many aspects of Sephiroth that surely, surely he should know. I too sense that he is close, but even so, he is very far off.

"Nothing. There is nothing to say." I said, but he had not expressed any frustration from that.

Instead he smiled, finding something to treasure in my words, "Not even Loveless?"

Such a charmer.

"...Hero of the Dawn, Healer of Worlds. Dreams of the morrow –"

"I should be going." he said, standing up and taking a brief stretch.

Amused, I asked "You do not want to hear the rest?"

"There is no point." he stated, already at the door, "You'll be sitting on my desk quoting from your beloved book while I'm doing paperwork all day tomorrow."

I approached him, "Is that a promise?"

"The morrow is barren of promises, am I right Genesis?"

Furrowing my brow, I asked curiously, "What do you mean?"

He opened the door and smirked, "It's not a promise. It's routine."

I glowered frivolously and he smugly chuckled.

Saying our last farewells, I watched Sephiroth retreat down the hallway before closing the door. Inhaling deeply I sat down on the couch and released the breath, and pulled Loveless into my hands. For a moment, I simply fixed my eyes on the leather cover, a hand brushing over the surface, fingers delving into the shallow crevasses of the letters. So many years I have spent deciphering the meaning, the purpose and the essence of the grand poem that I have begun to regard my life as one.

My phone began to ring, its shrill tune startling me from the quiet. Taking it before my eyes, I saw Lazard's name.

I then wished we had made the promise for the morrow.

Answering the phone was merely out of courtesy, "Director..."

"You are to leave shortly."


I had left it on the coffee table, knowing you would find it there – a torn page from Loveless filled with worthless worth. Those large black letters, hollering at you in their capital letters, LOVELESS; adorning the page were the words that caught your fancy. Words of light and fireflies, of basking in glory and the essence of the gift that I craved from the Goddess. My gift was wrought in wrong, created wrong from many perspectives.

I learnt of your origins, felt disgust – a sweep of nausea fill my chest and spill upon the earth. Your light is of fault, a horrid injustice upon nature – like the glow of city lights; you were made by men fiddling with test tubes and meddling with experiments. You could not be the Firefly that I so dearly yearned, yet I was blinded from the start by what my tainted eyes saw in the beast of your kind. A robust SOLDIER, a man worthy of the respect of all, only truthfully in disguise, you hid with such grandeur, such godlike eminence the monster you are.

Yet I abhor you further more with the passing of each day, I cannot make myself feel even the slightest pain and pity for the man I held the strongest of admiration for. I could laugh with morbidity, reconciling with agony on the days that had once been so happy, are memories founded by lies.

I can remember how I caught sight of you in Junon. There you had sat under a tree by your own company and that of my words. Had it brought you comfort my friend? That perhaps my presence still lurked between the words I had writ? I should have felt pity, I possibly had.

Tell me dear friend, that last little line, had you made a mess of your quarters upon its sight, or sat woefully in your chair hoping that you had not been such a dunce (that you had known, deciphered, listened to what I had said)? I loved you: wholly, heartily, freely, wistfully, dearly. Had you felt the same? I could not argue, Sephiroth, for I know your mind on keeping my words – it must have been for the woe that the final line had given you.

That revelation. That name.

Your name.

Though my Gift of the Goddess, my Firefly, it cannot be you, for you yourself had not come upon the earth as a soul granted by the Goddess herself. A different entity, one unjust, inhuman – though you disbelieved me, showed me the full length of black leather and left. I still had desired you, even in the midst of the madness – I was growing madder.

Had you not burned my words with the town, I would have put ink to paper and strike out your name. Then again, I would not have done so, for I loved you, Sephiroth, my dearest friend, all the same – just the monster, the unnatural creation I will regard as profane. I believed you resilient, strong, glorious, thus my desire to gain your affection, though, had you submit to the darkest of your being?

I fear so. I have feared many things...my shadow, death...and then you.

I had envisioned you to have a portrait painted by the most talented of hands framed in rich golden arabesque, a man worthy of higher status, a higher purpose – a devout figure were you! Had I not learned of your truth...Had I not been denied salvation by your hand...then my friend, my love, there would be a Firefly worthy to catch, worthy to love.

Now...not even the summer would bring a Firefly.


I warned you this story was different. And yes I stuffed around with the timeline and what not, a little. Yep, Seph managed to find a tree in Junon.

Late entry is late; I have been so busy this year! I still cannot get over the fact that the first entry to this story was written when I was FOURTEEN now I am fifteen and a day away from being sixteen...today if you're in Australia. I actually completed this...five months ago, never had the time to upload it. When I did, however, were the past four days, but I spent those days with my brother holding my hair, if you know what I mean.

Anyway, reviews are nice, they keep me in school and what not.