This was a tiny Squall/Rinoa piece I wrote at the age of fifteen, set in the ending of Final Fantasy VIII.
I was afraid of posting this, because I'm embarrassed by everything I wrote as a teenager, but, looking back at it, I don't mind it! I definitely threw in some meaningless lines just because I thought they sounded pretty, though, and at one point I appear to have stolen a turn of phrase from The Lord of the Rings.
Running.
No time to pause, no time to think.
Where do we have to be? Why can’t I find you?
If you thought, you might remember where it is that you promised to meet him. If you thought, you might remember who he is.
Why can’t I remember?
But you’re tiring now, you’ve been running for so long, and still you cannot find him.
(You’ll find me.)
(I promise.)
~~~
dancingstandinginquietnessseiferbetrayalthedeckofthegardenoutintothewindultimeciamyfriendsconfusionthegirlbroken...
the girl...
...can’t remember her name. can’t remember her face.
who is she?
I didn’t want to forget.
~~~
a single feather. set free at the beginning and returning at the end of all things.
~~~
I’ve found you. I’ve finally found you. But...
He lies unconscious, sprawled on the ground. His eyes are closed, still frowning even in... even in...
This isn’t right.
Kneeling quietly beside him, uncertain now... unwilling to leave him lying there, but terrified of what you might find out... you draw his head into your lap and clear your throat nervously.
Don’t leave me.
“Full-Life.”
A pause to check the spell’s effect. For a moment it seems that it has worked, that he is stirring... but then he is still again.
He moved. He’s alive. I know he is.
...but what if I imagined it? What then?
I don’t know. I don’t understand.
He’s so still.
“Curaga.”
Brushing the strands of hair away from his face, you move your hand to his throat to check his pulse.
No. He’s not... No.
Don’t leave me, Squall.
(Squall?)
And suddenly you realise...
(I’ll be ‘waiting’... here...)
This is the meeting-place, the field of flowers. It’s barren now, a featureless desert, but you’re trapped in the future and this – this is the place.
You came. You kept your promise.
It came true. The promise was kept on both sides.
But...
I never imagined that it would be like this.
And as you cling to his unmoving body, the clouds tear open, throwing you back to your own time. The brightness hurts your eyes after so much darkness, and you narrow them against the onslaught of sunlight.
You stand slowly, still holding his body, and look around you. Surrounded by flowers, and so bright. Such a beautiful place.
This is the place. I knew you would come.
But Squall... why does it have to be this way?
He still hasn’t moved, and you know that it is true. But it’s so hard... it’s so difficult to make yourself accept it...
So I won’t accept it. I can stay.
You know, deep down, that nothing will work...
I promise.
But still you can stay with him. Still you will try.
I will stay here with you, Squall. Until you live again.