Seifer sighed and glared at the ground as he took up his normal sitting position, ankle resting on opposite knee, arms spread out.  And he looked around Quistis Trepe’s bedroom.

     It was a simple place, really.  Nothing particularly frilly like Rinoa’s room, not particularly cluttered like Selphie’s.  There was a light blue throw rug on the tile floor, and her desk faced her one window that had a sheer lace curtain pulled over it.  On the walls were pictures of her friends-he’d noticed that he was in a few- and beautiful watercolor paintings by some artist Seifer didn’t know.  Her bed dominated the middle of the room, done up with plain white sheets and a light green knit blanket.  On the other wall, next to her closed closet, was a cedar dresser, on which lay a silver-handled brush, a large compact filled with make-up, a bottle of perfume-he recognized the scent right away as hers-, and a fountain pen.  Vaguely, Seifer wondered what significance the pen held.  Quistis Trepe was one of those sentimental types, he was certain.

     He hadn’t yet explored the desk yet and the sight of its three closed drawers called to him.  Quistis was still asleep on her bed.  And Seifer Almasy was a curious man, so he rose to his feet and headed for the desk.  He started with the lowest one, opened it, rifled through it.  Extra paper, pens, ink cartridges, all unopened.  Then he moved to the second one.  Paperwork and file folders, each with names on them.  His wasn’t among them so he shut the drawer.  Nothing of interest.  “Jeez, Trepe, I didn’t know you were so boring,” he murmured mockingly to her sleeping form.  First drawer.  His green eyes narrowed.  The hell?  Quistis had a recorder, a metronome, unmarked staff paper, books of music.  Everyone knew she played piano, but this was vocal music he was looking at.  Slowly he reached his hand in the drawer, moving aside the metronome, the recorder.  His hand slid the sheet music slowly away from the top of the first book, allowing him to make out letters.  His green eyes squinted in the low light and he leaned closer.  “The Cr-“

     OOMPH!

     One minute he was snooping through Quistis’ desk, the next he was on the ground, wind knocked out of him, staring at the ceiling.  It took a moment, but when he realized what had happened, and why he felt abnormal pressure on his abdomen, he scowled and lowered his gaze.

     Dark blue.  Lit from the back by silver.  That’s what he was looking at.  Beautiful, dark depths filled with emotion-anger, betrayal…fear?  They reminded Seifer of the midnight ocean on nights of the full moon.

     “Seifer, what do you think you are doing?!” Quistis demanded, those blue eyes flashing.

     Mentally he shook his head.  When the hell had he started being romantic about Quistis Trepe’s eyes; he wasn’t a fucking Trepie.  His eyes met hers, focused this time, and his scowl grew bigger.  “I’m looking through your stuff, what’s it look like, Trepe?  Did years of not being in class fry your brain?  Or maybe the bump on your head did more permanent damage than Kadowaki thought!”

     Her eyes narrowed and she dug an elbow into his abdomen.  He gritted his teeth and glared more.  “Why the hell are you in my room?”

     “So ungrateful, Trepe!  You collapsed in the hallway and I found you brought you here.  Stupidly contacted Kadowaki who told me to stay here until you woke up to make sure you were okay.  Reinforced by orders from Commander Leonhart.  Of course whether you are okay or not is entirely up for debate!”  Seifer tried to shift his body but found it quite uncomfortable for his hormone-driven body, so he moved again.  This of course only caused Quistis to fall against him in a different way and he stifled a groan.

     “I collapsed in the hallway?” she asked, not moving from her position of pinning him down.  Dead weight was quite an asset sometimes.  If she let him up, he wouldn’t answer her questions.  And maybe she kind of liked the feel of his muscular body-

     “Yeah,” Seifer sneered, interrupting her unwanted thoughts.  “Probably because you’re too damn stupid not to stay put and heal.”  He shifted again and her body turned onto its side, her head beneath his chin and her arms flung out limply across him.

     Quistis snorted.  “Look who’s talking.”  She had a point.  Dammit.  There was a long pause.  Then she asked,” Why’d you save me?”

     “I told you, Trepe, I was under strict orders-“

     “No,” she cut in.  “When I fell in the water.  Why’d you save me?  You’ve never liked me.”

     “I couldn’t let you die,” Seifer frowned at her.  “I’m not that malicious.”  Her eyes met his and he relented.  “Well, not anymore.” 

     Another pause, before,” How’d you get there so fast?”

     Seifer chewed on his tongue, and then decided on the truth.  “I was in the quad, on the bench by the stage when you came in.”

     Quistis jerked up, her hand using his lower abdomen as a lever and Seifer’s eyes bugged.  She didn’t notice.  “You heard everything?”

     “Basically,” he wheezed.  She stared at him oddly.  “I was going to applaud what you did to that Eric Edgar guy-he’s such a sleaze-but then you fell in.”  Her gaze stayed on his.  “I’d applaud you now if I could move my arms,” he hinted.

     Quistis ignored the hint, instead turned to rest her elbows on his shoulders, her body stretched against his, seemingly not noticing the very suggestive position they were in.   “What did he tell everyone?”

     “I don’t know!  It doesn’t matter, I was there.  I saw and heard it all.  Who do you think they’re all going to trust, me or him?” Seifer demanded.  Her blue eyes blinked, then moved from his to the floor by his head and he understood what she was thinking.  She would have taken Eric’s word over his.  Dammit, why did that hurt so much?  It was only Quistis Trepe.  “Look, Trepe, I have things to do!  You’re awake, can I go now?”

     Slowly she nodded and just as slowly, carefully, she got up, using the desk as a support.  It didn’t go unnoticed by Seifer that she blocked access to her desk drawers and he thought about asking her what she was trying to hide.  After all, it was just vocal music.  Of course, his was well-hidden in his room, too.  So he let it go.  Everyone had secrets.

     “If you’re through being weak, Rinoa and Squall said to meet them for dinner with wedding plans on the brain,” Seifer called over his shoulder as he headed toward the door.  But her voice stopped him.

     “Seifer.”

     Raising an eyebrow, he paused with the door half open, turned his head to look at her.

     Her cobalt eyes met his squarely, but something was playing through their depths.  It looked like ripples on ocean water.  Seifer, it’s just eyes, he told himself.  “Thank you,” Quistis murmured.  Not for the dinner reminder.

     Since when did Quistis Trepe start thanking him?  If anything, she always tried to bring him down, make him feel worthless.  The sensation he felt rising in his gut made him bark,” Yeah, well, next time don’t be so careless.”  And he left the room, slamming the door behind him.

     Quistis stood there a moment, before shrugging and heading for the shower.  That was Seifer.

                                *                              *                              *

     It didn’t take long for Seifer to hunt his prey down.

     Eric cried out as his back hit the wall with incredible force.  His feet dangled about a foot above the floor and he stared down into angry green eyes, his own blue ones wide.

     “If you ever touch her again, you slime, not only will I hunt you down, but so will everyone else who knows her.  Don’t think that just because you’re popular with cadets that you fool ANY,” Seifer punctuated the word with another slam against the wall,” of the people that count in this institution!”  And he let go of Eric’s collar and watched him fall clumsily to the floor.

     Eric was immediately on his feet-one couldn’t show any sign of weakness to Seifer Almasy without dire consequences-and he spat,” Did the ice bitch sleep with you too, lapdog?” Before he could blink, Seifer had spun around, holding Hyperion to his throat.

     “First of all, don’t call her that.  Second of all, no, she didn’t have to for me to see that you’re a sorry specimen of manhood and deserve to have your vital organs splattered all over this wall.  And last of all,” Seifer hissed.  “That’s EX-lapdog.”  The quickness that he resheathed Hyperion served only as a warning to the scared SeeD, who had a thin red line across his neck now.  “Now get lost!”  Deciding it would be the best course of action to follow orders, Eric high-tailed it out of the classroom.

     Seifer stretched his arms above his head and began to laugh.  Slept with the ice bitch, huh?  Not likely.

     Yet even as he headed for the training center, the feel of her body on his was still imprinted in his mind.

                                *                              *                              *

     The phone was shrieking when Seifer returned to his dorm and as he picked up, he wondered how long it had been ringing.  “Almasy,” he said.  The voice on the other end made him grimace.

     “Seifer, it’s me.”

     He ran a hand through his golden hair and slumped on the bed.  “Clasyl.”

     “Can you come get me?  I don’t like it here without you.”

     “Clasyl, you and I are not together anymore.  You accepted it when we broke up, why are you so clingy now?” he sighed, exasperated.

     Her tremulous voice annoyed him.  “I’m carrying your baby now.”

     “I already told you I’d give you child support.”

     “I want more, Seifer!”

     “I’m not giving you more.  Accept it,” he growled.  Stupid women, always trying to manipulate men into doing their bidding.  If he didn’t know Clasyl, he would think that she was lying to him.  Then his eyes narrowed.  They’d broken up over nine months ago…not eight.  Unless she was wrong about the count, then he couldn’t be the father.  What game was she playing?

     “Seifer?  Are you listening to me?!”

     Oops.  He tuned her out.  “Yeah, I heard you.  And my answer is still the same.”

     Her voice turned cold.  “Seifer Almasy, I will ruin you if you don’t come get me.”

     “How, Clasyl?  I screwed myself up awhile ago, I don’t need your help for that,” he retorted bitterly.  “Why’d you come back to me instead of chasing after Eric?”  Then his eyes narrowed into slits.  “Eric who?”

     “W-what?  Because it’s your baby!”

     “Clasyl…Eric who?”

     There was a long pause, before he heard the reply.  But he heard it.  “That’s what I thought,” Seifer’s voice was low, dangerously low.  “Clasyl…I’m taking a paternity test once you have the baby.”

     The woman’s voice grew panicked.  “NO!  I’m telling you, it’s YOUR baby!  Why would I lie?”

     Good point.  Seifer cursed inwardly, and decided to lie through his teeth.  “You’re going to have to stay there, Clasyl.  I think I was just assigned a mission.”  Before she could protest, he said good-bye and hung up the phone.  And placed his head in his hands.

     She was dangling him around like some kind of puppet.  He wouldn’t suspect anything if she’d been more forthcoming, but Clasyl had never been a good liar.  Maybe she isn’t lying, Almasy, maybe she’s telling the truth.  In that case, she has nothing to worry about.  But if she thinks I’m going to marry her for a mistake I made, she’s extremely misguided.  I’m NOT her puppet.  Or any woman’s puppet.  And I never will be.

     Speaking of women…

     Seifer jumped to his feet, disconnected his phone, grabbed his guitar, and headed for the music room.  To the one person that understood him.

 

The marionetter has your number

Pulling your arms and legs till you can’t stand on your own

Dragging your conscience on the stage

And your heart gets rearranged

And you cannot tell your mentor from your maker

Look at the crows bleeding with laughter

Over the way you entertain at beck and call

They don’t see behind the lights, or the painted backgrounds

They just want to see you fall

 

But you don’t really mind

Cause you’re just wasting your time

You can’t feel anything

You’re a boy on a string

 

I feel a sadness like Gapetto

Watching the life that he created run away

Seeing the puppeteer’s intrusion

And holding the remains of puppets that had rotted away

One day the curtain will not open

And all the crowds will go away

Someday those string will choke you, but until that day

 

You don’t really mind

Cause you’re just wasting your time

You can’t feel anything

You’re a boy on a string

 

     Only later did he listen to her song and realized the truth in the lyrics.  He swore he wouldn’t love again, because he’d betrayed the world.  Hell, no one wanted him, so he wasn’t going to let anyone take control of his heart.  But that was changing.

     Because he was positive he was in love with her.

**************************

A/N: “Boy On A String” by Jars of Clay.  Seeing as how they’re playing here at Virginia Tech soon, I’m paying tribute :P  Aww, not so many shout-outs this time *lip trembles*  But that’s okay, I love you all anyway and appreciate EVERYONE who reads it, even if they don’t review(although I’d appreciate them a LOT more if they did ^_-).

 

Tilena-aawww! It’s in .html format.  None of the other formats work on my computer for some reason.  Perhaps you could cut&paste it into your word processor as a .txt format?  Of course that could be too much work! ^_^  I appreciate you wanting to read it!

Setobsessed-*dreamy sigh* Seifer is my dream hero! Lucky Quisty!  Yeah, Eric’s such a jerk :P

Stella Anon-YAY! *dances around*  I hope I’m changing your mind!  Sometimes songs just make things so much more vivid, like in the movies!

Sabacat-that’s cause Seifer IS great! ^_^

Presentsgirl-oh yeah!  I think I’d have a heart attack if I ever found someone like him…and then I’d jump him multiple times! *ROWR*

 

Chapter 7 in progress, but it’ll come much faster if you all...

REVIEW!  The button is right down there! Thanks and much love!

| |

\/

 

1