Author's Note: The characters belong to squaresoft but everything else is mine. The characters may be a little off from their game-selves, but there is no way I can rip them out and put them in our world without severely changing their backgrounds, and if you change backgrounds, well, you change personalities. This story is inspired and influenced by works of Sodoshiin, Race Ulfson, Emily, and several others. Oh, and a lot of the pictures I had described are heavily inspired by works of the wonderful Japanese artist Maxim. Again, feedbacks are welcomed, both good and bad ones. (and flames still are laughed at) Thanks for all the people who liked Barbed Wire and provided feedback for me.

Connecticut

By Jamaica

It was a pretty house.

He stood in front of the walnut door, on the stone gravel beneath rolls of golden autumn leaves, as the wind moved his hair. The hair was always messy, much to his dislike. However, that was not what had caught his attention at the moment. He was too busy analyzing every detail of the picture in front of him.

The door was etched near one side, off-center and left plenty of room for the two bright windows, with the shimmery glass reflecting off the setting sunlight. The inside, however, was obscured with light-colored drapes folding into the windowpane. Neutral-grey bricks with bright mix of other fragments stood stably under the blue-black roof. Steps of smooth stone lined under the front door, complemented with a metal railing on each side. Bushes of undergrowth dotted along the base. The fading daylight encircled the entire structure, giving it an almost misty and at the same time distinctly shaded texture.

Very homey. Like the model on a picture of the brochure in the mail about this section of the town. It even had the accompaniment of chirping from the robins, hidden somewhere above in the tangle of yellow and orange.

He hated it.

One

He frowned slightly at the unoriginality of his future home for the next 4, perhaps even 8, years of school. Being born and raised from the midst of uptown New York, he had always accepted the jagged constructions of his neighborhood as the norm. He knew the move to this medium-sized town in the state of Connecticut would bring different surroundings to his sight, but never anything *this* close to ordinary. The scenery was quite peaceful. Hard to imagine he stood only a couple of miles outside New Haven.

He wasn't used to this. At all. In fact, he was supposed to be standing on the dirt of New Haven in the first place. The city of Yale was not very different in atmosphere from where he had stayed for the past 18 years of his life. But the financial situation forced him to abandon the goal, which he had almost achieved when he received the acceptance letter from the top art school in the country, and retreat to a smaller, more affordable institution near his dream.

The failure of a scholarship and too much hope. His current school wasn't bad, no, not slightly. But it did not compare to Yale in any way close. His sister had told him the program was wonderful, and usually she didn't lie. But how much could a pianist, who had focused on nothing else but her specialty, understand about paintings? About sculptures? And oil on canvas? Still, she had 4 more years of experience under her feet than he did. Like previously stated, the school wasn't bad. It just wasn't Yale.

"Finished with the detail-absorption yet?"

He looked over his right shoulder, at the direction of the soft voice dripped with tease. "Yes. There's nothing here." He replied sourly.

She chuckled and shifted her weight, apparently getting uncomfortable with the heavy suitcase in her delicate hands. "Would you like to ring the doorbell or should I?"

He shrugged. She shook her head slightly, then stepped up to push the red button carved into the wall. Moments later, the door swung open, showing the figure of a girl with a warm smile.

"Ellone!" The girl exclaimed as she hugged his sister. Her natural blonde hair was pulled into a ponytail and secured with a wide clip. A few face-framing strands rested on her shoulders. She was wearing a dark red hoodie with laced-up sleeves and a pair of denim. True blue eyes twinkled as her smile grew wider. "I didn't expect you to be here this early. I thought you're going to arrive some time around dinner."

"Well, I had to take care of some registration problems." Ellone replied, smoothing her long black skirt before turning to gesture for him to come closer. "And that's my brother."

The expression on the girl's face when she saw him was enough to convince him that her previous images concerning his appearance were incorrect. True, who would think an old-fashioned sweetheart like his sister was related to the gothic walking artwork like him. He absentmindedly pressed his black leather jacket closer to his firm stomach, picked up his other suitcase with a gloved hand, and walked up to the front porch. The girl stepped aside to let him in and set down the heavy trunk. Her eyes never left him.

"Find something you like?" He gave her a look. Women.

The girl's smile didn't fade. "You know, you have really beautiful eyes."

This time it's his turn to be surprised. Out of all the responses he received from observers (and believe him, they were of various contents and quite numerous), no one had ever complimented his facial features before, especially the eyes. They were mostly concerned with his outfit, and the make-up. "Uh . . . thanks." He uttered.

"No one ever told you that before?" The girl appeared bewildered. "Shame. Hm. Oh, where's my manners. I'm Quistis. Quistis Trepe." She extended her hand.

"Squall Leonhart." He shook it firmly, waiting for her next obvious question.

Before she could say anything else, though, his sister interrupted the introduction. "I better go. Julia's probably there already." Julia was her roommate in the sorority house Phi Xi Epsilon. One of the many advantages of being a senior in that sorority was guaranteed low-price housing, which his sister gladly accepted. It was also the reason why he had the luck to live in a house shared by 3 other people near campus instead of the freshmen dorms. Throwing in the fact that one of the tenants grew up with a very rich background and happened to know his family, he practically paid nothing to be renting a room in this north-of-modest house.

"Okay. It’s really good to see you, though." Quistis called out the door as Ellone walked back to the beige Toyota Camry. She waved as the car sped off and nearly skidded at the obscure stop sign ahead. A good driver Ellone was, a slow one she was not.

"Squall . . ." Quistis closed and locked the front door. "That's an interesting name."

"So is yours," he pointed out.

She glanced at him sideways with a semi-annoyed expression, "It's not that uncommon if you live in Northern Europe."

"You live there?"

"No, but my parents did spend their honeymoon in Norway." She said good-naturedly, confirming that her previous irritation was merely an act. "Why is your last name different from your family's?"

The inevitable question every time his surname was mentioned. He usually meet people through his sister's many connections, and the Loire/Leonhart issue never ceased with someone new. "It's my mother's maiden name." He said in an automatic tone. He was so tired of repeating the same thing over and over again. His father was a soldier during Vietnam. He had been transferred a few times and lost contact with his mother during a recovery from injury. His mother believed his father was dead, and named Squall with her own last name instead of the family one. Ellone was already four by then. Two years later his father returned, fully healed and anxious to reunite with his family. But the name stayed. "Can we get out of the doorway before I explain this again?" He gestured at the two suitcases.

"Oh, sure. Don't worry about explaining it, your sister told me enough for me to figure it out already." Quistis dismissed it with her hand. "Your room is upstairs on the left."

"Have the others arrived yet?" Squall glanced around.

Just as that inquiry was spoken aloud, he heard the lock of the kitchen door turned and squeaked. The rush of outside air brought in the scent of plants, as the door swung open quickly.

Two

The figure stepped inside the dusk-bathed kitchen and immediately scanned the room. Jade-green eyes sparkled with diligent passion and never-ending mischief under the short hair of ripened corn. He was quite tall, with broad shoulders and the dense muscle of a football player. He wore a simple black t-shirt and faded blue jeans.

As soon as his eyes landed on Quistis, the boy's face broke into a huge grin. He sauntered forward and wrapped her in a hug. "So how's my favorite lady doing?"

She snorted. "Right, I'm the only lady who'll talk to you and who's paying half the bills for where you live." Nevertheless she accepted the light kiss on her cheek from the other boy. "Hey, meet Squall." She turned back to him. "This is Squall Leonhart, and this, is Seifer Almasy."

"Whoa, what 1930's vamp movie did they rip you out of?" Seifer tilted his head.

Squall scoffed in annoyance. Typical judge-by-the-cover dumb jocks. "Bite me." He retorted.

The blonde raised both of his eyebrows suggestively as a response. "Not literally, Seifer," Quistis rolled her eyes. "Give the guy a break."

"Aw, the type that can't take a joke?" He attempted to slide his hands further under Quistis' shirt, but was forced to give up when she slapped his arms, hard.

"Back off, geez," she scowled. "Or I'm going to let my boyfriend beat you up."

"Ha," Seifer laughed out loud. "Make sure you don't. Because if he ever tried then I'll have to tie him up and have my way with him *very personally*." He immediately let go of her as she swiped at his head, dodging just in time.

"If you *ever* do *anything* to him I will *kill* you. I do have ropes around the house and your neck is quite sufficient for hanging, you know." She pointed her finger to his face.

The grin that swamped Seifer's face was more than a little irritating in Squall's eyes. He decided that he didn't like the guy. "Grow up." He told the duo, statement clearly meant for the male to hear.

"Oh, and I suppose you are an expert in that field." Seifer said in the cocky voice of his. "What kind of name is 'Squall' anyway?"

"What kind of name is 'cypher'?" Squall furrowed his eyebrows together. He liked his name. It was much better than his last name. With all due respect to his mother and her kin, but Leonhart was probably the most ridiculous name he had ever heard of in his life. It may sound acceptable if he lived in a fantasy world with elves and pixies, but in the middle of concrete and cars and real people, it seemed outlandish. At least the name 'Squall' contained a flare of uniqueness that separated him from the mass with good connotations.

"So my ancestor's Russian. Haven't you heard of diversity?" Seifer gave him a look. "Where you from, the backwoods of Mississippi?"

"New York,"

Take that, he thought as the wave of surprise launched from his opponent's face. "Is your boyfriend the third person living here?" He changed target deliberately.

"Yep," Quistis replied, obviously relieved that they're no longer arguing to scar. "He's out with his team. First meeting of the year. And he should be back -"

Keys turned in the front door's lock.

"- right about now." Quistis finished. The door opened and a lanky boy in a soaked shirt and dirty shoes trudged in. He stopped before he went any further onto the tiles and kicked off the pair of Nikes. He was quite attractive, as Squall casually observed, with auburn hair pulled back in a ponytail down his back and friendly indigo eyes. And obviously not available considering Quistis just told him whom the boy was supposed to be. "What happened? I thought your meeting is just a get-together at the cafe?" Quistis asked.

The boy shrugged. "Alex brought a ball and we just took off. Hey, nice to meet you." He offered his hand to Squall, who was taken aback for a second by the spontaneous greeting. "Squall, right?"

"Yeah," he shook the hand. "Nice to meet you too."

"Irvine Kinneas. Cool, make yourself at home." Irvine said as he leaned over and kissed Quistis on the lips. "Ah, don't hug me, I'm sweaty. Is the hot water running?"

"Yep. Got it fixed this morning." Quistis replied. "And, oh." She seemed to notice that Squall's suitcases were still sitting conspicuously by the stairs. "Seifer, help Squall with his stuff. I got to go cook." "Right," Seifer snickered. "You just want me to stay as far from your boyfriend as possible."

Quistis flicked Seifer off as she followed Irvine back toward the kitchen. Squall smiled inwardly. Horny bastard, he thought as he proceeded with the task of picking up his trunks. I really don't want this guy touching my stuff, he frowned as soon as the idea entered his head.

"Just to clarify," Before Squall could reach the second suitcase, though, Seifer's hands had already gripped the handle and began to climb the stairs, "yes, I like men. Hope I didn't disgust you or freak you out with what I said before."

Squall nearly rolled his eyes. "Well, he *is* cute." He stated as he followed up after Seifer. The latter, however, stopped dead on his tracks. Squall kept on, past Seifer and turned into the room on the left. He could feel the other's eyes digging into his back.

"WHAT did you just say?"

"You heard me."

"Uh, wait a minute. Wait *just* a minute," Seifer dropped the suitcase in the middle of the second floor hallway, "Quistis!" He yelled downstairs.

"What?" came the muffled reply originated from the kitchen.

"I need to have a word with you! *Now!*" Lightening thudding footsteps informed Squall that the blonde had descended back to the ground. He sighed, then dragged the suitcases onto his bed. Unpacking was first priority.

He didn't like this house. It wasn't something he could actually pinpoint: call it intuition of an artist. But he seriously didn't like his current situation. And there was no way for him to back out of it.

Three

The house had two floors with an attic on top. Starting from the front door on first floor, a woodened passageway extended straight into the kitchen. On the left of the kitchen was the master bedroom, which belonged to Quistis and Irvine. They also had a master bathroom and a walk-in closet. The kitchen was connected to the small dining room on the right, followed by the living room with an excellent entertainment system and comfortable sofas. A half-bathroom hid itself between the passageway's and the living room's adjacent wall.

The stairs faced next to the front door, on the left. Second floor had four rooms in a cross shape. On the ends of the hallway were the two bedrooms, left occupied by Squall and the other by Seifer. A bathroom stayed in the middle, facing the stairway, and opposite of that was a laundry room with washer and dryer. A rope dangled from the ceiling in the middle of the corridor, leading up to the attic.

It was a finished and spacious attic. There was heating and cooling control in the room, the floor was carpeted, and the walls were padded somewhat to barricade outside weather's influences. There was a huge window without blinds or screen in the middle of the attic wall. The house was facing west, so the sunset could be seen every day, unhinged, from that window.

It was because of this view that Squall chose the attic to be his art studio.

His two suitcases were full of two things – clothes and art supplies. Nothing else. No laptop, no books, no other sources of entertainment or even necessary objects like toothbrush and towels. The easel and bundles of canvas took up most of the first suitcase. The rest of the space were full of brushes, color palettes, paint thinners, etc. The other suitcase was all clothes, plus his make-up.

Squall was introduced to his housemates officially, in detail, this time. The other three were all sophomores, and none came here for the fine arts. It didn't mean they're not into the arts; quite contrary, all three were music-crazy, Quistis especially, despite her major field of Biology. Seifer took the English/Literature department while Irvine rooted in History. Aside from the obvious rich background of Miss Trepe, the two guys were from average income households. This eased Squall's feelings a little. There were other people similar to him after all, not the one with all the breaks.

And of course, he learned several *other* things during his first dinner at the resident that night. One, Quistis couldn't cook to save her life. She could clean quite well, though, as proved after dinner when clearing came around. Two, Seifer was horny 24/7 and a complete computer freak. He kept on trying to flirt with Irvine, despite Quistis' warnings, and Irvine naturally ignored him. After dinner Seifer perched himself in front of the Alienware '02 in the dining room, which was converted into a semi-study, and didn't get up until midnight. Three, Irvine loved basketball. He had been playing on a team since he was about 6. That was what his afternoon meeting about.

Now Squall was sitting on his bed, pondering how early he should get up the next morning and go shopping for the un-brought necessities. Good thing Ellone had told Quistis beforehand to at least provide a pillow and some covers. Not that it was freezing and he'd be uncomfortable in his clothes. He just didn't want to ruin the clothes by sleeping in them.

"You're still up?" A voice floated in from his door. It was Irvine.

"Yeah," Squall replied without looking. The figure waltzed in his room, grabbed a chair, and plopped down next to the bed. "You're too."

Irvine shrugged. "Don't you need toothbrush and make-up remover and stuff like that?"

Squall gave him a look. "Quistis sending her motherly regards?"

Irvine smiled. "Partly."

"I have make-up remover. Don't worry about me." Squall replied dryly. He half-expected Irvine to get up and go after delivering Quistis' message. But he didn't leave the chair. "Yes?"

"You barely talked at all during dinner. Something the matter, or is that I'm just used to people who never shut up?"

"The latter," Squall replied. This felt different. People usually leave him alone and he left them alone. But now he seemed to be living with Curious George's descendants, and there were 3 of them. "Why are you so concerned? We could scarcely call each other acquaintances yet."

"Oh, I'm just making sure Seifer didn't scare you already into silence. He has that effect on people. He's not a bad guy, no, but sometimes he can be a major ass. Well, if you're cool with it then I'm gone." Irvine stood up and headed toward the door.

"Hey, Irvine,"

"Yeah," He paused at Squall's voice.

"Why didn't you stop him when he tried to hit on you? Doesn't that make you uncomfortable?"

"He's like that to every single person he meets. No biggie. I'm not his target and he doesn't mean it. I mean, like I said, he's not a bad guy. I'll see ya." With that, Irvine walked out the door and closed it behind him.

It didn't take Squall but a moment to realize the purpose of this visit, and the things left unsaid.

Return to Archive