She’d been nervous the whole way home, struggling between keeping herself calm enough to not cause the air to crackle around her, and trying not to dwell on thinking about what she could even say to Irvine. Keeping her composure around strangers she would never see again was one thing, but she lived with him; it would be nearly impossible to keep secrets from him.
Plus, she’d been gone quite a while this time - tacking a couple extra days onto her bi-monthly trips to Trabia was a fairly normal occurrence; adding another whole week simply to make sure she could form some sloppy semblance of control over powers she still didn’t know how to properly manage was not.
Selphie felt fine for the time being, despite that nagging little worry in the back of her head that something was bound to slip, and she hesitated for a few seconds in the hallway before she entered, taking a deep breath to steady herself even further.
She could do this. She knew she could.
“Irvy?” She called as she opened the door, trying to keep her tone bright and chipper as usual despite hoping that she’d found their living quarters empty. “You here? I’m back!”
@sharpxshootin says, “ everything’s cool. this place is not creepy at all. ”
Seifer promised Squall that he would not go chasing after demons he had no business fighting but once an idea is in his head, yet it’s near impossible to just let it go. The thought was quick to latch on inside his mind and begin consuming the better portion of his days, making it damn near impossible to concentrate on anything else.
On the third day, Seifer began to seek out a place of solitude -- somewhere quiet where he would be able to find out what he could about this ‘primordial guardian’ without prying eyes. The sub levels between the ground floor and the MD levels were his first choice considering there was virtually zero foot traffic and no other soul had any clue about them unless they were actively searching for them. A long-forgotten access, and at the end of a winding corridor of narrow passage ways and dark corners would be a small little nook, right beside a rusted door labeled ‘Compressor Room, Side B.’
And just next to the door, Irvine would find Seifer sitting on the ground along with the efforts of his fixation. Images, maps, data collected (or rather, stolen) from the third floor are all spread out in a half circle around. It’s fairly obvious what he’s after--
Seifer promised Squall -- but Seifer believed Squall needn’t fear the result of a hundred battles with this being so long as Seifer knows the enemy as well as he knows himself.
But he needed food, and a second pair of eyes. When the generators in the compressor room kick off, there’s a dense fog that looms in his ears, but Seifer hears Irvine’s voice just fine-- but he’s busy to look up. All he can muster as he searches in his bag for a book-- “Wuss,” before pulling it out -- a Centran book of mythical lore.
Yes, he’s reaching that deep with this.
“Pop a squat,” Seifer’s got a space already set up for Irvine, "How much you know about Centran lore?”
Any time that Seifer suggests stealing copious amounts of booze from Squall's office and meeting him in the secret area of the training center should always be a tip-off that this is going to be a terrible, terrible, terrible idea.
The fact he's invited Irvine along and they're now falling over on each other should be the big giveaway that this should not just be 'a thing' that just 'happens.' It's just not. Seifer's not interested in Irvine like that. This is probably the part where he's supposed to fawn over the man and monologue with himself about how he's always been curious, how he's always felt some sort of way for Irvine but in full honesty--
He's not. He has a love for Irvine but it's nothing that comes close to anything like this. It's companionship. It's camaraderie. A kinship of sorts--
And that right there's what does it for Seifer. He breaks away, catching his breath, wiping the corner of his mouth and moving to sit a few inches away because there's just something unsettling about realizing that he's spent the last ten minutes tongue-wrestling with someone he's always regarded as a brother in arms, his orphanmate.
"Okay, so..." Licking his lips, Seifer reaches for the booze to wash his mouth out with the taste of Irvine. "... That’s... not going to be discussed, ever..."
Send me “I miss you” to know what my muse will say after 1 year, 5 years, then to 10 years after your muse’s death.
@sharpxshootin
Some days she can’t believe that he’s really gone, that the last time she’d seen him early in the morning was her final chance to tell him that she loved him, to hear him say it right back, and that especially rings true once the one year anniversary of his death arrives. Selphie spends most of it locked in her room - in their room.
“I’m so so sorry,” she manages to speak through the sobs that wrack her frame, curling her arms tighter to pull her legs closer to her chest, peering through her tears at the stetson sitting on the bed by her feet. “We should’ve had more time together, and...I should’ve made sure you knew how I felt. How much I loved -- love you, how thankful I was that you helped us remember, that you helped me remember, how badly I felt that I didn’t recognize you right away... How much I wish I could go back and not junction that damn GF so I wouldn’t have forgotten any bit of the time we spent together. Because now...now I would do anything to have you back, to be able to see you again, to kiss you again... I miss you, Irvy. I always will...”
---
Four more years makes little difference in the ache she feels in her chest every time she’s reminded of Irvine - some possession of his that she finds in a drawer, a quick glance of a guy she passes by that looks suspiciously like him from behind until she does a double take. It’s been a few years since she found that folded love letter tucked away in the lining of his hat, a possession that she has taken extremely good care of and treasured just as much as his own handwritten note he’d slipped to her in return, and for a few fleeting moments each time she thinks of it, she wishes she’d sent him out with a new one in his pocket the last time she’d seen him.
“Hyne, I wish I could pull you into my arms again.” She says on a sigh, wrapping her arms around her torso as she gazes at the dorm - it feels even emptier than usual, more so than it had the first night she knew she would be sleeping alone. “I know I’ve said it so many times before, but I keep expecting you to walk through that door like nothing happened. Irvy, I...I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to pull myself together for weeks after you were gone. But somehow, here I am, still absolutely crazy about you and somehow managing to go on. That’s what you would have wanted, right...? Even if...even if it seemed like some cruel joke to reunite us for only a few years before we were torn apart again. I wish we were able to make so many more memories together, but I still cherish each and every one we’ve had. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop loving you, either. You know that, don’t you?”
---
Ten whole years. It feels like an eternity more than that, especially now that the ink has long since dried on her resignation, Garden no longer her home. She still visits as much as she goes to Trabia Garden, a second stop on her trip that always leads her back to his grave. She always ends up hesitating, however, before she returns to the home she’s tried to make out in the countryside - away from any mention of mercenary work, from civilization, from the life they’d been forced to live. But it doesn’t feel like home, not when it’s just her - they both deserved to be able to leave their wartime past behind and just live as any other people would.
It almost pains her to think about how she will never get to know how they could have spent the rest of their lives together, the kind of memories the could have made, the family they could have had, when danger and fighting was no longer the norm.
“I think you would’ve loved it out there, Irvy,” she says, pausing a moment to brush off the placard on the stone that marks his burial site and paying little mind to the one tear that slips down her cheek - certainly not the first she’s shed for him while she’s sitting before his grave. “There’s no need for warding off monsters, no SeeD assignments to distract from just enjoying living a ‘regular’ life. ...We should’ve been able to share it together, y’know, like we talked about when we were thinking of what we would do after SeeD. I wish we could have. It feels kinda empty without you. But I promise I’ll always come and talk to you whenever I can, so maybe it’ll feel a little less lonely to be out there.”
Speaking to graves has never been so hard, and it’s at that moment that her willpower breaks down and she bows her head to let herself cry for her sadness to flow free, fingers curling tightly into the hem of her shirt as she murmurs those three little words she never got to say nearly enough:
She winced, knowing full well that if Squall was that livid already, it was probably even worse than the news was showing. “Can you blame him? Galbadia gets worldwide forgiveness for succumbing to the sorceress and making themselves into public enemy number one, then get handed a peace treaty, and instead of just signing it and backing off, they do this.” It was despicable, only reinforcing Selphie’s low opinion of them, and even though she, too, was upset, the emotion that had bubbled to the surface was fear.
If this was happening halfway across the world, who was to say their forces wouldn’t get cocky and go after others on their hit list - namely, the Gardens. If they wanted to cripple Balamb Garden’s forces, they knew some of the key SeeDs that were responsible for their defeat last time. If they wanted to take the Gardens by surprise and show they meant business...Trabia might be in trouble. It didn’t help that she was away from everyone else, but at the very least, Irvine’s worry mirrored her own for all of them, and she could only hope that they could all stay safe with this cloud of dangerous uncertainty hanging over their heads.
“I promise,” she said softly, turning to look out the window across the frozen tundra - a calm, peaceful scene that strikingly contrasts the madness that was unfolding in the background of the news broadcasts that had been playing almost nonstop for the past hour, and perhaps that was why it had stunned Trabia Garden into shocked silence once it had been turned on. “I was only going to go to town once before I came back, but now I might not even do that. Better safe than sorry, even if we’re protected here.”
Selphie paused, her certainty of their safety slowly waning as she sighed heavily, barely voicing the following, “...For now.”
