FF8: Their Version
Sep. 20th, 2010 03:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
arghmusesTitle: Their Version
Characters/Pairings: Seifer/Squall
Team: Balamb G
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Author's Notes: It felt weird to write something more than 100 words. ...OMG! I wrote more than 100 words! Yay!
Their romance was nothing textbook, nor sweet and lovely. It was painful and hurtful and intense. Always intense. From the looks that they gave each other across the room to the mind-blowing, knee melting orgasms that took them late into the night.
The fights were almost always loud and explosive, except when they were the silent and pain filled ones. The sparring was brutal and bone-jarring, leaving both men with cuts and scars that would heal into small white lines on sun kissed or pale skin.
Their quiet moments were filled with intensity that would have shocked those who seen it. They'd lay on the bed, close together and stare at each other. Occasionally one would move in and kiss the other's scar or let their fingertips slide across skin.
For hours the two could lay like that, green eyes staring into grey ones; a gaze broken by slow blinks. It spoke volumes, said words that would never be uttered through voice or sneak past lips on tongue. The look was an "I love you", a "I need you" and the ever present "You're mine."
It was possessive and intense, powerful and yielding, but it was their version of love.
Characters/Pairings: Seifer/Squall
Team: Balamb G
Rating: PG
Word Count: 200
Author's Notes: It felt weird to write something more than 100 words. ...OMG! I wrote more than 100 words! Yay!
Their romance was nothing textbook, nor sweet and lovely. It was painful and hurtful and intense. Always intense. From the looks that they gave each other across the room to the mind-blowing, knee melting orgasms that took them late into the night.
The fights were almost always loud and explosive, except when they were the silent and pain filled ones. The sparring was brutal and bone-jarring, leaving both men with cuts and scars that would heal into small white lines on sun kissed or pale skin.
Their quiet moments were filled with intensity that would have shocked those who seen it. They'd lay on the bed, close together and stare at each other. Occasionally one would move in and kiss the other's scar or let their fingertips slide across skin.
For hours the two could lay like that, green eyes staring into grey ones; a gaze broken by slow blinks. It spoke volumes, said words that would never be uttered through voice or sneak past lips on tongue. The look was an "I love you", a "I need you" and the ever present "You're mine."
It was possessive and intense, powerful and yielding, but it was their version of love.
