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Sometimes, Seifer scares me. I'm sure he'd be thoroughly thrilled to know that provided I were the one to inform him, but I'll refrain from doing so just yet. He's always been so intense, so sure of himself. Fiery, for want of a better word but I can't think of any more appropriate than that. Even when I was afraid of my own feelings for him and I denied them to myself, he always seemed to know what I really wanted. So I let him in. I let him show me how to really feel.
These last three years have passed in heart beats. While the days seem a long grind of naught but minor turmoil's that take up too many hours and leave me too little time to spend with him, the time we spend together passes in a blur and suddenly it's night and I'm falling asleep in his arms with my nose buried in his hair and one of his legs thrown over mine.
Time, it will not wait. Ultimecia's words are ingrained into my soul as deeply as my love for him. I was so concerned when I was seventeen with being forgotten and left behind that I panicked – to my own shame – but I've changed as much as he has over the past few years. I don't live to be remembered now, I live for myself and for him.
I'm his shadow, he's my light. I'm his ice, he's my fire. He's my fate. That's the one thing I've been sure of all along. Even when I watched him play house with Quistis as a kid. I wonder if he'd laugh if I told him that, after all, I was trying so hard not to notice him that I even managed to convince myself for a while. But I'd always find my eyes drawn back to him.
He gave me my first kiss when I was sixteen. Right in the middle of the showers after training where everyone could see and I wanted to hurt him for it. I've yet to tell him that if he'd kissed me anywhere else – in private – I probably would have kissed back. But that's how Seifer was back then. Confrontational bastard could never resist a chance to challenge me.
All that time I spent chasing him around the world telling myself to hate him was wasted. I couldn't hate him, no matter how much I wanted to.
He was always buzzing around me like a fly after the war. He wouldn't leave me alone, every time I turned around he was there. We practiced more and more and I found the feelings that I'd had for him and locked away coming back to haunt me. I tried to analyze them away, label them neatly as hormonal idiocy and stack them in the back of my mind but I could never ignore them for long.
I wonder if he knew how much trouble I had to deal with for not turning him over to the 'proper authorities' straight away. I've gotten into fist fights over him to my shame. I even went so far as to break a couple of the bones in my hand punching some big headed mercenary who tried to march his way into garden to arrest Seifer shortly after the war.
Well I didn't have Lion Heart junctioned and I certainly wasn't going to bother Shiva for such a trivial matter.
When I was eighteen, he tried for another kiss. Fortunately this one was not public and I was able to kiss back. I accepted him, having figured out it was right and that the feelings I was experiencing weren't just some teenage sap ridden crush and I really did need him in some way that couldn't be ignored.
After a couple of weeks of falling asleep on him after an evening of pawing and kissing that was so frenzied I think he was trying to make up for years of lost time every hour, we slept together. It wasn't perfect – that would come later – and it hurt like hell at first but... I offered myself and he took my body. He'd already had my heart for years but I wouldn't let myself admit that.
It was growing dark, I remember that as vividly as the wonderfully new sensation of having his sex inside me, hot and thick and making me feel so full and right that I feared I'd loose my mind. Needless to say, from there on in, I was addicted. There was no hope of me ever sending him away. We'd trained together enough to feel each other's movements before they were made, to know each other intimately without the need for sex until that moment.
I still swear every time we sleep together it gets better.
Last night he finally told me about his romantic dream. Now I wear a ring made of the same high grade steel alloy as Hyperion, for him. The physical, tangible proof of our love – not that we'd needed much in the way of proof since shortly after he figured out I was serious and if he ever so much as looked at another person I'd kick his ass.
I haven't slept much since last night. Too busy thinking, I guess. Right now I'm watching the sun begin to peek over the horizon through our bedroom window with Seifer wrapped around me. If I move, he only curls tighter around me.
A new day. A new way of living that makes me feel even more in love with him though I'd previously believed it impossible. He keeps doing that to me, surprising me, making me love him even more... Maybe today I'll be able to put that into words. For now I'll just content myself with resting my chin on the top of his head and stroking his back while he sleeps on.
Maybe today I'll finally tell him that his romantic dream is just the same as mine.
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