Final Fantasy - All Series Fan Fiction ❯ Defining Love ❯ Chapter Three ( Chapter 3 )

Defining Love

Chapter Three

 

“Something that you should know before going in, is that Squall has a son,” Irvine said as he and the broad formed knight stepped off the elevator.

 

Stopping in his tracks, Seifer stared incredulously at the gunman. “Damn, I never thought puberty boy would have gotten laid. Who's the unfortunate mother?”

 

Eyes narrowing, Irvine reacted without thinking. With the barrel of a standard Beretta 92F leveled at the blond's head, he hissed, “Make no mistake, I will not hesitate to put you in your place if you so much as look at Squall in a condescending manner.”

 

Sneering, Seifer crossed his arms before his chest, daring the gunman to shoot. “Me and Squally-boy go way back, cowboy.”

 

“Your history with him means nothing,” Irvine hissed. “I brought you here because you owe him your gratitude. Whatever he decides to tell you, I suggest you disappear afterwards.”

 

Sorely missing his gunblade, Seifer simply scoffed. “You brought me here, remember. I'm not stepping on eggshells for anyone.”

 

Mastering himself once more, Irvine holstered his weapon inside his long brown coat and proceeded down the dimly lit hall.

 

For a brief moment, Seifer watched the cowboy walk away. His gut was telling him that something was up, but he couldn't place it.

 

“There are a few ground rules,” Irvine said, pausing just outside Squall's apartment door.

 

“For Hyne's sake just open the damn door and let me get this over with,” Seifer bit out with impatience.

 

Unfazed by the former knight's words, Irvine remained in place before the door. “First, no foul language. Squall doesn't want his son using swear words all the time, and I could certainly do with out one of my kids swearing in front of their mother. I'd have a hell of a time explaining where they learned it.”

 

“Are you shitting me Cowboy?” Seifer grumbled, staring down into violet-blue eyes that were obviously not kidding. “Tch,” he intoned with reluctant acceptance. “That's half my vocabulary gone.”

 

“Second, don't start any fights. Try and understand that Squall is still Squall, but every parent is different around his or her children. Don't goad him into showing a side of himself he doesn't want his son to see.” Irvine had the feeling that Seifer couldn't even begin to imagine what it was like to be a parent.

 

Jade green eyes widened in slight curiosity, wondering exactly what he'd be seeing once the door was opened. It was hard to imagine his rival being anything but a mute and asocial freak.

 

“I guess that's all,” Irvine said, mentally checking to see if he'd covered the important stuff. Knocking softly, he keyed in the code number and swiped a keycard, not waiting for anyone to answer. With the door halfway open, he turned back and added, “Be quiet.”

 

Frowning, Seifer shook his head, wanting to get it over with and meet up with Raijin and Fujin. The only reason he was there was because his two knuckle head friends insisted he pay the pretty boy hero a visit. While he was a little jealous of Leonhart's victory, that wasn't why he was so reluctant to make nice. He just wanted to move on with his life, and since he was no longer with Garden, he didn't need reminders of the past. His greatest rival was the physical icon of everything linked with Balamb Garden and the orphanage.

 

Coats and shoes left in the entryway, the two men entered the large apartment.

 

Being that it was a bright day outside, the dimming of the main room was obviously a mood setter. The drapes were drawn on the large glass door in the living room, keeping light from creating a glare on the television.

 

Two small bodies were on the floor, each child's face staring fixedly at some animated entertainment on screen.

 

“Dad?” a young blonde girl intoned, head craning to glance at the newcomers.

 

“Hey darlin',” Irvine greeted. “Where's your uncle?”

 

The second girl with a head of identical blonde hair turned to regard the auburn haired gunman. “He's putting Lore to bed,” she answered before muting the television with a remote that had been nearby.

 

“It's kind of early,” Irvine commented with a quick glance to his watch, determining that it was only a little after five.

 

“That's `cause Lore's sick,” the first blonde answered.

 

“Who's that?” the other girl questioned, sitting up and turning to regard the tall blond man with interest.

 

“Why not ask me directly,” Seifer suggested.

 

“Terri, Hanna,” Irvine said as he gestured to each respective girl. “This is Seifer Almasy.”

 

“Hello,” the twins intoned together.

 

Grimacing, Seifer didn't care to hide the eerie chill he received at the sound of the two speaking in sync. “Creepy,” he commented.

 

Smirking, Terri and Hanna stood together. “We get that,” one began. “A lot,” the other finished smoothly.

 

Irvine chuckled. “Aren't they adorable?”

 

Seifer decided not to say what he thought the twins were, not when he wasn't armed and the fast drawing cowboy didn't have trouble putting a bullet or two in his kneecaps. “You started early,” he commented, mentally estimating the creepy twins to be around ten or eleven, which meant the gunman was something like fourteen when becoming a father.

 

“They're twelve,” Irvine clarified. “Selphie and I adopted.”

 

“Mom said it's like having two for the price of one,” Terri input.

 

Frowning, Seifer tried to figure how that made any sense, but gave up as soon as he remembered that it was the crazy messenger girl that was their mother. “Uh-huh,” he muttered noncommittally.

 

“We're just going to see your uncle real quick, then we'll go, so get your stuff,” Irvine said.

 

“Do we have to?” Hanna questioned with an unsuppressed groan of disappointment.

 

“I wanna stay another night,” Terri said, supporting her sister's want to stay.

 

Moving across the flat, which was basically like a giant living room, Irvine motioned for Seifer to follow. “If Lore's sick, then you two are not far behind. Let's not give your uncle three kids to be putting to bed.”

 

“We don't mind,” the girls stated earnestly.

 

Chuckling softly, Irvine corrected, “But your uncle might.” Speaking more quietly to the ex-knight beside him, he explained, “They're going through this phase. They both have crushes on their uncle.”

 

Seifer fought the urge to slap his forehead. Why did the cowboy sound so proud about it? “Uncle Puberty-boy,” Seifer hummed to himself with amusement. “Such a ladies man he can get a set of twins, never mind that they're twelve.”

 

Seeming to remember that Seifer wasn't likely to understand where he or any other father was coming from, Irvine sobered. “Just shut up and follow,” he grumbled, a bit downtrodden that he couldn't boast about his girls to someone who'd take an interest.

 

Muffled sniffling floated from the only open door along the long corridor that lead off from the living room. Following the sound of a child crying, Irvine approached the room first.

 

“I don't wanna go to the doctor,” Lore said, sobbing over the tragic idea of seeing a doctor. His voice was hoarse and it was clear from the sniffling that he wouldn't be breathing out of his nose anytime soon.

 

Sighing, Squall rubbed the boy's back as the child stubbornly remained in place against his chest. “What if Dr. Kadowaki comes here?” he questioned.

 

“I'm not sick,” Lore assured, coughing seconds after.

 

“Howdy,” Irvine greeted in a near whisper, making sure to block Seifer from view as he stood just within the doorway.

 

Looking up in slight surprise, Squall stared for a moment, eyes narrowing as they focused beyond the gunman's shoulder. “Sorry to have you pick them up sooner, but I don't want them catching anything,” the brunet stated in explanation, forgoing a greeting completely.

 

Shaking his head, Irvine said, “It's fine. Besides, if they spend too much time here, they're going to love you more than me.”

 

Squall stared for a long moment, his expression unreadable. “I see you've brought a guest,” he commented.

 

Faltering for a second, Irvine hesitantly stepped forward, no longer needing to hide Seifer in the hall. He had hoped to just alert Squall that Seifer was there, and perhaps take the conversation elsewhere, but there was no fooling those sharp stormy eyes that seemed to see through walls.

 

Stepping into view, Seifer casually glanced around the room, noting the obsessive lion themed decorations and nearly laughing out loud. From the tan colored rug to the surrounding mural of a jungle on the walls. The comforter sporting little baby lions and an overused stuffed animal set close by were clear indications that the clinging daddy's boy was obsessed. He could only imagine the sort of psychopathic child someone as introverted as Squall would end up raising.

 

“It's been a while,” the ex-knight greeted in a deep tone, successfully managing to mask any of the thoughts forming in his head.

 

As expected by Squall, the child in his arms tensed up. Lore wasn't exactly good with strangers, especially assholes who weren't above scaring a child on purpose. As a tear stained face pressed firmly against the crook of his shoulder and small arms tightened their hold around his neck, he shot his former rival a warning glare that demanded good behavior.

 

“Talkative as ever I see,” the blond commented with slight annoyance. From the cowboy explaining what had been going on, to the messenger girl filling in every unnecessary detail, to Raijin and Fujin expressing their utter joy, he was used to more vocal reactions at his sudden appearance. “So you have a runt of your own. I never knew mercenaries were such family men.”

 

Though an array of biting comments came to mind, such as the need to replenish the population after Seifer's aid in destroying it, Squall held his tongue. He felt a slight panic over having Seifer standing in front of him and not knowing what to say. He still couldn't figure the right words.

 

“We can talk in the kitchen,” the former commander suggested evenly.

 

Nodding his understanding, Irvine turned to usher the tall ex-knight away. “You want anything, for you or Lore?”

 

Shaking his head, Squall set about the difficult task of detaching the stubborn child from him. Gently raking his fingers through thick hair that as dark as Laguna's, he soothed, “I'll have Dr. Kadowaki come here. You like her, don't you?”

 

“Who was that?” Lore questioned, eyes peering towards the now vacant doorway.

 

Hesitating for a moment, Squall said at length, “That was an old friend.”

 

“He sounds scary,” the boy complained.

 

“Sleep, now. The doctor will be here in the morning,” Squall stated. It was just a cold, common for the time of the year, but unfortunately not the sort of physical ailment that potions took care of. He was still worried and wanted Kadowaki to at least check up on the boy and affirm that it was just a regular cold. Milla Kadowaki was a physician trusted by himself and everyone associated with Garden, past and present.

 

As Squall made to move from his half sitting position against the headboard, Lore protested further. “I don't want you to leave. I don't wanna sleep.”

 

Falling prey to his greatest weakness, Squall struggled to remain an authority figure when hearing the hoarse protests of his sick son. “You'll feel better after you sleep.”

 

“I wanna sleep in your bed,” Lore pleaded, feeling as if his only escape from the aching was sleep, but not willing to give in so easily.

 

Reaching for a box of tissues on the nightstand, Squall wiped his son's moistened face down. Small hands left their clinging perch to keep the tissue close. He chuckled at the pathetic manner Lore blew his nose in. With another tissue he helped the boy do a better job.

 

Hefting the sickly bundle closer, he stood up and proceeded to leave Lore's room. The bedding was turned down, but unused since he'd encountered a stubborn wall when trying to have the boy take a nap. He was more than certain that if he could just get his son to take a quick nap, it would turn into hours of rest.

 

Crossing the hall, Squall entered his own bedroom. Plain white walls were vacant of any homely touches aside from a mounting case for Lionheart. A long mahogany stained dresser along one wall and a large bed along another were the focus. A partially open door at the other end of the spacious room led to the second bathroom of the apartment.

 

It was a simple room. Bright by nature with white walls and light grey rug, the open blinds on the window let in a lot of daylight that only amplified the already bright surroundings.

 

Lore's room was the only bedroom that was truly decorated, catered to the boy's specific wishes as a birthday present. Though a little concerned about the fixation with lions, everyone assured him that it was normal for young boys to find a particular icon and worship it, especially given the association lions had with himself.

 

There were three other rooms in the one story apartment-- the main bathroom, his office, and the guest room. The guest room was basically Laguna's room since the president was the one who usually occupied it, but it had most recently hosted Irvine's twin daughters.

 

Given the square footage, the single floor apartment was an insane place to live when in the heart of Esthar. However, it was perfect for his and Lore's needs, and Laguna was crazy about it since it was so close to the Presidential Palace. The older man had wanted Squall to move into the palace, but that was absolutely out of the question.

 

Sniffling, Lore made a bit of whiny protest as he was set down on his father's bed. “I can't smell anything.”

 

“Obviously,” Squall commented with mirth. It was truly an example of how children came to love everything about their parents when Lore constantly came into his bedroom because it so often smelled of leather and oil. Not wanting to leave Lionheart or any other weapons out in the open, he kept them all stored in his room, safely away from small hands. Consequently, his bedroom carried the scent of oil and leather.

 

“My throat hurts,” the boy mumbled.

 

“You're sick,” Squall replied, reaching over Lore to tug at the navy blue comforter, unsettling the pillows in the process.

 

Seeming to spend his final ounce of energy, Lore crawled under the blankets before flopping down into place.

 

Squall let the boy get a bit more situated as he closed the blinds. The sun still being out was always the excuse used when Lore wanted to stay up later during the summer season. “What do you want to drink?” he questioned as he returned to the boy's side. Lore seemed so much smaller in his bed, as if a pillow that wound up beneath the covers.

 

“Soda,” Lore answered immediately.

 

“We don't have any,” Squall answered, not even bothering to point out that they never had any because he didn't want his son drinking it all the time.

 

“Chocolate milk,” came the second request.

 

Considering it for a moment, Squall eventually suggested, “How about hot chocolate?” Dairy wasn't good when Lore was already congested, but hot chocolate made with water would probably be fine.

 

“Yeah,” Lore croaked before burying his face in a pillow.

 

Turning to leave, Squall was called to a halt by the muffled call of `Daddy'. “You're so needy,” the pale brunet commented before gently ruffling Lore's hair and whispering, “I'll be right back cub.”

 

Leaving his bedroom, Squall turned and nearly ran into Hanna and Terri. Idling outside his room for no apparent reason, he looked at the pair expectantly.

 

“Dad wants us to gather our stuff,” Hanna stated.

 

Nodding, Squall simply stepped to the side and gestured for the two girls to continue down the hall.

 

“We wanted to say goodbye,” Terri explained with a smile.

 

“Thanks for having us over Uncle Squall,” Hanna said, moving forward to give the former commander a hug.

 

“We had fun,” Terri added.

 

And just like that, Squall found himself trapped in place with four arms encircling his waist. Before he could think of something to say, still feeling terribly inept around kids that weren't his own, Irvine showed up.

 

“Move along you two, you know Uncle Squall doesn't like hugs,” Irvine chastised, smirking when the two girls scampered off in a fit of giggles, leaving behind a completely oblivious Squall. It was a harmless crush that Selphie assured him all girls developed on older men in their lives. Luckily, Squall wouldn't have understood even if he spelled it out, which was the only truly reassuring part for Irvine as a father.

 

Relaxing a bit, Squall cast a grateful gaze at the lanky gunman.

 

“Don't sweat it,” Irvine said with a wave of his hand, reading the expressive eyes easily enough. It just took practice to interpret all the things Squall tried to say without using words. All things considered, Squall was actually a rather talkative person, in a silent sort of way.

 

“If they get sick, I'll foot the doctor's bill,” Squall muttered as he walked past Irvine.

 

Laughing a bit nervously, Irvine admitted, “Actually, the girls were sick last week. I'm afraid they might have given it to Lore.”

 

Not commenting, Squall just sighed and decided Irvine would owe him one. At least it would build up Lore's immune system.

 

“Do you want me to stick around or leave you two alone?” the gunman questioned, uncertain as to what dirty laundry the two rivals needed to air out.

 

Stopping mid step, Squall turned to regard his close friend. “You think I should tell him,” he stated, suddenly realizing the odd air of discomfort he'd been detecting from the taller gunman.

 

“I do, but it's your decision in the end,” Irvine returned, carefully studying the thoughtful expression of his leader. Though just an untitled SeeD, be it a high ranking and very special SeeD, Squall would always be a leader to them all. To Irvine especially. Squall having Lore right after the war ended had shown them all that despite their dark past, a family was not out of the question. He and Selphie had adopted Hanna and Terri shortly after Lore was born, and now he was going to have a son of his own. Squall was a leader to them in every front.

 

“I don't know what's right,” Squall admitted heavily. “It's not a responsibility to me anymore, but for him it might be. I want this, but I doubt he'd want any part of it.”

 

“He should be given a choice. Isn't that why it was so hard for you at first, because you didn't have a choice?” Irvine pointed out, wanting to reach out and hug the exhausted man until everything was set right again.

 

“I know, but-”

 

“Hey!” Seifer called out. “Hurry up!”

 

Scowling in the general direction of the knight, Squall stalked forward once more. Thinking that it would be a miracle if he didn't end up fighting with the blond man like usual, he tried to remain as calm and level headed as possible.

 

Apparently feeling quite welcome in Squall's home, Seifer was lazily strewn on the couch, flipping through the channels on the television.

 

“We'll talk in the kitchen,” Squall hissed, glaring the knight's way when he considered the total disregard shown for being in another person's home.

 

“There's nothing good on anyway,” Seifer stated with a grin, making a point out of choosing to follow Squall only because it suited him for the moment.

 

Before moving out of sight within the kitchen, Squall noted that Seifer at least turned the television off. Setting about making Lore a cup of hot chocolate, he started with the boy's favorite mug, which just so happened to have a lion on it.

 

“Some obsessions aren't healthy,” Seifer stated as he sauntered into the kitchen and took a seat at the oval shaped table. He eyed the cup with distain. “What is it with you and lions? They don't even exist anymore.”

 

“They do actually,” Squall corrected, immediately berating himself for the slip.

 

“Oh?” the blond intoned with amusement. “I'm sure you would know.”

 

Not replying, Squall filled an old fashioned teakettle with water before placing it on the stovetop.

 

“You know, that's what microwaves are for.”

 

Back turned to man who was as arrogant and condescending as ever, Squall chose not to explain that this was how Lore preferred it. While there really was no difference in taste, his son swore by the method, and after six years it had become a habit that he carried out even when blue-green eyes weren't around to observe the making.

 

“Was there anything in particular you wanted to see me for?” Squall questioned, still not knowing what he should have to say after seven long years.

 

“Not really,” Seifer admitted with an air of annoyance. “I was happy to leave well enough alone, but my posse insisted that I at least say a quick hello.”

 

“Nnh,” Squall sounded in understanding, hardly caring that the blond made it seem like it took force to make anyone come to visit him.

 

“Some people think I should be thanking you for what you did,” Seifer stated, trying to get a feel for where Squall was at the moment. The vacant expression just wouldn't do when he was so used to seeing the anger rise in stormy blue eyes. He needed a better reaction.

 

Frowning, Squall glanced at Seifer in a questioning manner. He found the idea that the knight owed him gratitude to be rather ridiculous.

 

“I know,” Seifer agreed boisterously, gesturing with his hands in belying frustration. “What did you do that was so fucking great? You just did your job.”

 

“Don't swear,” Squall reprimanded.

 

Rolling his eyes, Seifer conceded to behave simply because he knew the gunman was still around. He was always wary of anyone who used long ranged weapons, feeling as though they were generally fighters with no standards and who wouldn't hesitate to shoot from afar despite the honor placed in hand to hand combat.

 

“So, is there some big secret I should know about or not?” Seifer asked bluntly, becoming very curious when the puberty boy seemed to go rigid.

 

Suddenly caught between a rock and a hard place, Squall thought frantically to determine what the right course of action was. He was given a merciful reprieve as the kettle heated quickly and began to whistle an angry alarm that the water was boiled.

 

Removing the kettle before the noise became too loud, he set it aside on an unused burner. It needed to cool a bit, but he could still set about making the hot drink and even take the time to serve it.

 

Seifer watched with ever growing curiosity as Squall seemed to struggle with something. Green eyes studied the terse movements of someone on edge. Still, part of the display was oddly calming. Dressed down for the first time he could remember in years, not including the seven years that seemed to have passed in the blink of an eye for him, the ice prince had an unusual warmth.

 

Dark blue jeans that were slightly too baggy betrayed the fact that the dear Commander's body had changed. The long black turtleneck made a stark contrast against naturally pale skin. As he stared the expressionless face of his rival, he was reminded of how effeminate the brunet had always been. Seven years hadn't added any height to the shorter man and his rival's body was leaner than he remembered. Choppy brown hair was just as he'd last seen it, perhaps a tad longer. The most notable change was the pretty boy's features. Once sharp and unwelcoming, they were now softer. Leonhart seemed more like a mother than a father, doting on the child so openly.

 

Considering for a moment that his rival was indeed a father, Seifer recalled the image of Squall sitting on the bed with the clinging child. He cringed at the thought of a snot nosed brat draped on him, spreading germs like a plague. He was reminded of Matron. Matron had been the sort of woman who offered an affectionate hug and didn't so much as flinch if a child sneezed right on her. It again came down to Squall seeming more like a mother than father, but Seifer hardly cared to dwell on it.

 

“Excuse me for a minute,” Squall said before leaving the kitchen with a mug of hot chocolate, still a little too hot to be drunk. He needed to be away from the intense study of jade-green eyes, eyes that seemed to look through him and read him too well for comfort.

 

Squall soon found that Lore was already asleep. He set the mug on the nightstand, a forgotten but not entirely wasted effort. After adjusting the covers a bit, he carefully sat on the edge of the bed and listened to the audible breaths of his son. Reaching out, he smoothed lengthy strands of hair away from the boy's forehead, making a mental note that Lore would need a haircut soon.

 

“Hey darlin',” Irvine drawled from the doorway, silently creeping closer.

 

Startled from his lost reverie, Squall turned to regard the approaching gunman.

 

“Me `n the girls are gonna mosey on out.”

 

Standing, Squall nodded, watching as Hanna and Terri each gestured for the other to be quiet as they tip toed past the doorway in an exaggerated manner that they must have learned from their mother. Each toting a backpack with the items they'd brought for the single day and night they'd spent, the twins departed from his sight.

 

“I support you no matter what,” Irvine assured, daring to move closer and draw the seemingly fragile brunet into a hug. “Don't make things hard when they don't have to be. Don't take the world on alone.”

 

“Am I interrupting?” Seifer questioned in a near growl, his annoyance at being both ignored and made to wait mounting each minute.

 

Two sets of curious brown eyes popped up behind the tall knight, the twins apparently biding their time waiting to leave.

 

“Dad, Mom said no more kissing Uncle Squall,” Hanna announced for the entire world to hear.

 

“Hanna dear,” Irvine whispered, “Let's not get into that right this second.” His conniving little girls were now referring to a completely innocent happening as some seedy event. Both the twins were too smart for his own good, especially when they seemed to have adopted his sense of humor and turned it against him at every chance.

 

“If you can hug Uncle Squall, why can't we?” Terrie protested.

 

“Because I'm cuter,” Irvine said with a smacking kiss to Squall's temple that caused precariously loud snickering to erupt from the twins. Releasing his hold, he strutted towards the girls, who knowingly turned tail and fled.

 

With a sigh Squall followed, motioning for Seifer to move elsewhere as he shut the bedroom door.

 

Seeming to realize it for the first time, the blond man cast a glance from one door to the next. “So, is the room with all the lions yours?” he questioned with an amused smirk.

 

Not dignifying the question with an answer, Squall walked away. He paused to give the knight an impatient look when the man didn't follow right away.

 

Once again in the kitchen, Seifer continued to eye his rival with curiosity. “You got something going on with the cowboy?”

 

Frowning, Squall pulled a chair out and took a seat adjacent to the former knight. “He's a friend,” he muttered in clarification, more for the sake of Irvine's reputation than his own.

 

“Well, it's not like I care,” Seifer affirmed, crossing his arms and leaning back.

 

“Do you still have dreams?” Squall questioned abruptly, throwing the pacing off kilter completely.

 

Brows raised at the odd question, Seifer wasn't sure whether or not to answer. “Dreams?”

 

“Yes, like when we were back at Garden. You were always talking about your romantic dream, which I assume wasn't to head a war against humanity.”

 

“It was to be a knight,” Seifer admitted freely, wondering if this was what he'd been brought there for, if Squall was the one with some hidden agenda.

 

“Now that it's over and you're back, what do you want to do?” Squall pressed, finding that he needed to know in order to determine what Seifer should know.

 

“You're such a freak, you know that?” Seifer commented.

 

“Please, just tell me.”

 

Deciding to throw the brunet a bone, he answered, “I'm going into business with Raijin and Fujin. I've got some money saved up that's been collecting a little interest, so we're going to expand their business and trade their junker boat in for something we can really go sailing on.”

 

“And will that be it? Is that what you want to do most?”

 

Shaking his head in disbelief, Seifer replied, “How the hell am I supposed to know? I'll try it out. If it's not fun, I'll find something else.” His agitation cooled when stormy blue eyes seemed to gaze at him with earnest expectancy and what he could swear was anguish.

 

Biting his lip, Squall wondered if his next question would betray what he was withholding. “Do you like children?”

 

“What the fuck?” Seifer hissed as he stood up. “Were you always this freaking weird? Hyne, what sort of question is that? And what the hell is up with you having some kid? It's fucking sick to see you guys walking around like the world's perfect all of a sudden and starting families like it's all chirping birds and sunshine.”

 

Suddenly fighting back emotions that had been slowly building up inside of him, Squall cast his gaze to the tabletop, staring at the light colored wood. He was so close to just letting it all go, which made it near impossible to pull back at the last second. Shaking his head and muttering at his own stupidity, he raised a hand and pressed the heel of his palm against his eyes as each began to burn with the threat of tears.

 

“Fuck Squally-boy, you've changed,” Seifer declared with distain. “You were only ever good for an ass kicking, and now I can't even see myself doing that.”

 

Letting out a dry laugh, underlying hurt escaping with it, Squall nodded his head in agreement. “I have changed, but you haven't.”

 

“Damn straight,” Seifer stated proudly.

 

Composed once more, confident that his eyes weren't glistening, Squall regarded the tall blond. He almost flinched back at the sight of intense green eyes that placed him under harsh scrutiny, seeing every flaw that had grown in his character. “That's all I wanted to ask,” he spoke quietly.

 

“Well then, it's been an eye opening visit,” the blond said before stalking from the kitchen and making a hasty departure.

 

“Yes it has,” Squall whispered to himself at the sound of the door closing behind the former knight.

 

TBC…