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10:56pm, December 31st, 2003
Seifer had never liked New Year’s Eve and this was decidedly his worst one yet.
He sat at the bar, half-filled tumbler of whiskey in his hand. Everyone else in the room held flutes of champagnes, fruity cocktails, foamy glasses of cold beer. But he’d wanted something straight and hard to get through the night.
Garden’s New Year’s Eve party was always an over-the-top affair, only made tolerable by hanging with his posse in the corner each year and avoiding the crowds. They’d get pissed on the best liquors at the open bar, make fun of the incoming cadets, and occasionally create a bit of mild havoc from the sidelines as the night drew long.
But this year, Fujin and Raijin had both decided to fall into pairings that absolutely boggled Seifer’s mind. Fuu had somehow found herself entangled with the Chicken-Wuss (of all the hyne-damned people), which had practically made Seifer’s brain short-circuit and melt out his ears. Only the menacing way she brandished her chakram at him whenever he so much as thought of giving the Wuss crap kept him from giving the smaller guy (who definitely didn’t deserve her) too much hell whenever he saw them together.
And Raijin…well, him coming out wasn’t too much of a shock. Him shacking up with that doormouse Nida was.
Both pairs seemed happy though, so as much as it chafed at him, Seifer had learned to let things be if he wanted the posse to remain intact. He refused to spend the night making forced small talk with either couple, though. He would’ve opted out of coming to the party entirely, but Fuu had put an immediate stop to that notion.
“COMING. NO DEBATE. NO MOPING,” had been Fujin’s decree, accompanied by one of her trademark death glares, and that had been that.
So here he was. Sitting alone at the bar, nursing a lukewarm glass of whiskey and trying his hardest not to stare at the person across the room who was the other reason this was absolutely his worst New Year’s Eve yet.
11:02pm, December 31st, 2003
The first one who dared disturb his peace was the cowboy.
The tall brunette sidled up to the bar, wearing his ridiculous hat and western trench coat. He promptly ordered a fruity drink and made himself comfortable on the stool next to Seifer, despite the hardened stare that was obviously intended to ward him off.
“Hey partner. Figured you could use some company over here. Seems a shame to be spending New Year’s all on your lonesome, what with so many pretty birds flocking around the place, doncha think?”
Seifer simply stared at him, wondering why the daggers he was trying to send through his eyes didn’t seem to be working as intended.
“Well you figured wrong. I’m perfectly fine here on my own. In fact, I’d prefer it if you kindly fucked off yourself as well, cowboy.”
Irvine remained undeterred. If anything, Seifer’s grouchiness seemed to spur him onward, causing a cheeky grin to slowly spread across his face.
“Coulda fooled me, Almasy. Swore I been seeing you steal glances at the gorgeous Instructor over there every chance you get. Can’t say I blame you though, pal. She’s truly a sight for sore eyes tonight, ain’t she?”
Begrudgingly, Seifer’s eyes flicked yet again to the table where Quistis was sitting on the far side of the room, speaking to someone. One hand primly settled on the base of her champagne flute while the other tucked a stray bang behind her ear.
Unlike every other year, when she’d opted to wear her SeeD uniform to the New Year’s party, she was wearing a form-fitting bronze-colored dress tonight that sparkled subtly under the chandelier lights and set her skin aglow.
It was flattering, to say the least.
Seifer grimaced and looked away. Sure, they’d gotten closer over this past year. Perhaps even friendly. After the war, Quistis had climbed her way back up to Head Instructor and was now overseeing the new Advanced Magic program that had been instituted to replace GF use. It was all the rage at Balamb, and every single incoming cadet wanted to enroll.
As part of his ‘remediation’, Seifer had even been given a position teaching first-years about Fire Elementals. On a probationary basis, of course.
Which meant that along with several other instructors, he technically reported into Quistis and had regular curriculum-building sessions with her throughout the year. The result of which were a lot of evening meetings that seemed to go longer than strictly necessary. Daily banter that had started off sardonic, but gradually seemed to take on a more amicable and even (in his opinion) flirtatious tone.
Rather than dread the day-to-day humdrum of being an instructor, Seifer started to look forward to classes and planning sessions. Started to anticipate the small things that would make Quistis laugh or smile or shake her head in familiar annoyance with him.
He had started to think that maybe…there could be something there.
But every single time it felt like they were having a moment - Quistis looking up at him through those long lashes of hers; her hand lingering on his arm for a moment longer than necessary; some ridiculous innuendo from him lingering in the air just a little heavier than normal - that pompous asshole Aldric Montclair would show up and ruin his whole fucking day.
Aldric, the only co-Head Instructor ever elected in Garden history due to his spotless track record. Who seemed attached to Quistis’s hip these days, always poking his head into her office whenever Seifer was there and whisking her away for some urgent faculty meeting or classified debriefing for A-rank SeeDs.
Aldric, heir to an obscene Galbadian family fortune, yet so wholesome and noble he still enrolled (and excelled) in the SeeD program despite already having a permanent place carved out for him in high society.
Aldric, who was clean-cut and ruggedly handsome in a way that even Seifer had to begrudgingly acknowledge, and voted #1 most eligible bachelor by the Balambian Post.
Aldric, number one suitor to Quistis Trepe and all-around pain in Seifer Almasy’s ass. The prick seemed to practically pop out of the walls every time Seifer even thought about making a move.
The guy was fucking everywhere, reminding him of exactly the type of guy Quistis actually deserved and really should be with, and it was starting to royally piss Seifer off.
He also happened to be the exact someone that Quistis was having a polite conversation with across the room, his hands occasionally ghosting over her shoulders or down her back, and that fact alone had been sending his evening spiraling down the toilet for the last hour or so.
“Listen, I ain’t your pal, okay? So why don’t you mind your own business and buzz off. I’m sure there’s a Wendigo somewhere that needs wrangling if you need something to keep you busy.”
Cheekily, Irvine just grinned.
“Sure thing, bud. I can tell as well as the next fellow when I’ve worn out my welcome. Just remember though: nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend.”
And with that, Irvine lifted his aggressively pink cocktail (with an umbrella in it, no less) in Seifer’s direction, winked warmly, and left.
“For the last time, I’m not your friend…” Seifer grumbled to himself as he took another swig of whiskey, relishing the burn as it slid down his throat.
He definitely was not thinking about how the liquid in his glass was the exact same color as Quistis’s dress. How the silky fabric made her blue eyes sparkle just a bit sharper in contrast, her hair and skin gleam just a bit warmer and more inviting.
Definitely not.
11:13pm, December 31st, 2003
The overly perky Messenger Girl was the next one to try her hand at seeing just what Seifer’s threshold for being annoyed to death was.
Wearing a bright yellow sequined dress, she bounced over to where Seifer was brooding and hopped up onto the stool next to his.
“Heya, Seifie–”
“Don’t even try it, pipsqueak. Your pathetic excuse for a boyfriend was just here, and I'm in no mood for another cryptic pep talk.”
The small woman huffed and placed both hands firmly on her hips, green eyes shining bright from beneath her bangs. She somehow managed to pout exaggeratedly while looking as menacing as a wolf at the same time.
“See now, I would get offended on Irvy’s behalf by that and tear you a new one between your asshole and your belly button for being such a meanie,” Seifer blanched at the unexpectedly graphic threat, “but I also know that you’re just being a total grumpy-pants and trying to take your misery out on everyone else. That’s not gonna work on me though, alright Mister Party-Pooper?”
Seifer rolled his eyes and blatantly stared ahead. He never was quite sure how to handle this one. She spoke like a little kid, but his instincts told him she was also the type to bite someone’s ear clean off in a fight if push came to shove. And Seifer preferred all his appendages intact.
“So!” she continued cheerfully, oblivious to his grimacing expression. “I thought I’d do you a favor and come over here to let you know: the peach is ripe for the taking, good sir!”
“...the hell does that even mean, you tiny lunatic?”
“It means, there’s no reason for you to be over here pining away like a big blond sack of sad, just because you think you haven’t got a chance. Because I’m telling you right here and now, that you do, mister silly pants!”
Seifer shook his head, annoyed and disbelieving.
“Look, runt, ain’t nobody over here pining for anything, alright? I was doing just fine until you decided to butt your nose into my business.”
He saw her drawing breath to start another weird little tirade, so he jumped ahead of her in the conversation to cut her off instead.
“And if you’re implying that Trepe over there has even the slightest interest in me, then you clearly haven’t got two working eyes. She and Mr. Gold-Star Galbadian have been cozying up over there all night. With someone like that eating out of her hands, what could she possibly want with a washed up ex-criminal like me?"
Selphie stared at him, eyes wide and almost a bit pitying. She cocked her head to the side like someone inspecting a wounded puppy.
“Boy, you really are clueless, aren’t you?”
Seifer could feel his irritation spiking, but before he could react, Selphie had clapped her hands together and leapt up off the barstool with a cheerful flourish.
“Welp, I can only help those who wish to help themselves. Just remember: nothing is said and done until the fat lady sings!” And with that, the tiny brunette flounced away, kicking her heels up as she disappeared into the crowd.
“Dumbest saying I’ve ever heard…” Seifer mumbled under his breath, shaking his head as he watched her prance away.
He glanced back over to where Quistis was sitting and saw Aldric leaning over to whisper something in her ear. The other man gently brushed one of her bangs back, and Seifer swore he saw Quistis laugh nervously.
There really wasn’t enough whiskey in the bar to drown out the nasty feeling of jealousy that was burning, hot and bitter now in his chest.
But dammit if he wasn’t going to try.
11:28pm, December 31st, 2003
When Squall started to make his way over, Seifer was just about ready to throw down and pick up a gunblade.
“I swear to freaking Hyne, Pubes, if you’re here to—“
“Relax. I’m only here because Rinoa sent me. I’m not interested in your personal life.”
Still tense with wary energy, Seifer just eyed the other man suspiciously as he calmly took the stool next to him.
They sat in silence, neither one speaking a word. The sounds of music and merriment carried on around them as they both stared straight ahead, sipping their respective drinks.
After exactly five minutes, Squall looked at the clock and nodded tightly to himself, seeming to feel that was sufficient time spent sitting next to Seifer to appease whatever Rinoa’s impulses were.
As he stood to leave, he paused for a moment.
“Listen. It’s not my place to interfere with these things. Just…don’t be a moron.”
Seifer raised a brow, drumming his fingers impatiently on the bartop.
“That’s your idea of advice, Pubes? How in the hell did you ever get elected Commander of this entire circus anyhow?”
Squall just pinned him with a blank stare, then coolly shrugged one shoulder.
“Just remember: not everything is as complicated as you think it is.”
And with that he turned and stalked away, disappearing into the crowd as silent and stealthy as a cat.
Seifer grumbled and leaned back in his chair, turning his face skyward to stare at the domed glass ceiling.
“The hell is up with everyone tonight… Can’t a man just drink and wallow in peace, for Shiva’s sake?”
This time, he pointedly refused to glance over at the corner of the room where Quistis and Aldric sat, surely canoodling by now. Nothing good could come from seeing that.
At this point, he just needed to get out of here and get some fresh air.
11:38pm, December 31st, 2003
Just as he was about to leave, the next person to slide into the stool next to him was the last person he expected.
Shimmering in bronze, Quistis seemed to glide effortlessly into the seat. Her hair was elegantly pinned up, leaving just a few small wisps curling down her neck. The back of her dress was open and low cut, exposing a smooth expanse of golden, achingly touchable skin.
Up close, she looked even more radiant than from afar. The ballroom lights highlighted the curve of her cheekbones, the length of her pale lashes.
Looking sideways at him, she fiddled nervously with the napkin in front of her.
“Hi Seifer. I wasn’t sure if I’d see you here tonight. I don’t often see you at these events.”
Seifer grunted, clearing his throat. Why the hell had he thought it’d be a good idea to down so many shots of whiskey?
“What can I say? Showing up where I’m not wanted is a special skill of mine,” he said, smirking at her out of reflex. He tried not to focus too much on the attractive blush in her cheeks.
“What are you doing over here anyways, Trepe? These are the cheap seats, y’know. Only for lone wolves and probational instructors.”
Quistis smiled gently at him, and he felt his heart rate go up just a notch.
“Well, this seat seems to be the hot spot for the evening. Thought maybe you wouldn’t mind me taking my turn?”
His grin widened.
“Never.”
He took in the curve of her neck, the delicate profile of her face. His pulse raced. Had the sight of her always been able to reduce him to feeling like a clueless cadet all over again? He grasped for something to say.
“So. Enjoying the party, Trepe?”
She nodded politely, glancing back at the table she’d just come from.
“Oh, it’s been alright. Just been spending the evening with Aldric, discussing all the new curriculum we’re exploring for the upcoming year. I’m excited about where we can take the program. There’s so many possibilities,” she said, an eager smile starting to creep into her face.
At the sound of Aldric’s name on her lips and the gentle expression spreading across her face, the bitter beast reared its ugly head again in Seifer’s chest.
Of course. They’d probably been having an enthralling meeting of the minds all evening while Seifer had been here, getting drunk and belligerent like the brute he was. Trepe was probably just here out of diplomacy; making the charity rounds because her bleeding heart couldn’t stand to see anyone alone on New Year’s Eve.
Seifer didn’t want anyone’s pity though. Least of all hers.
“Right. Of course. Well, don’t let me keep you. Would hate for you to miss midnight with Aldric and all.” He’d been aiming for nonchalant, but it came out more heated than he intended.
Quistis’s face fell slightly, and she gave him a strange look.
“Oh. It’s not at all like that, really. Actually, I came over because I wanted to ask you something.”
She went quiet, toying nervously with the napkin in front of her. Indecisively, she chewed her lip and seemed to be working up the courage to say something.
After a long moment, Seifer couldn’t take the suspense anymore and they both suddenly blurted something out, speaking over one another.
“Well, ask away then—“
“So, who’re you planning to—“
Seifer paused, digesting her half-asked question. He suddenly felt defensive, not wanting her to know exactly how much he’d been sitting here pining away for something that could never be real.
So he leaned back and waved away her question as though it were nothing.
“Me? Don’t got plans to stick around. Honestly, was just about to take off. Nothing of interest for me here, so I’d rather just be on my own right now.”
Something not unlike disappointment flashed across her face, but it was quickly replaced by her normal mask of perfect civility.
“Oh. I see. Well…don’t let me keep you then.” She paused another second, waiting to see if he would say anything else.
When he didn’t, she slowly slid out of her seat, placing one hand on his arm before turning to walk away.
“Have a good night, Seifer. Happy new year.”
11:52pm, December 31st, 2003
The whiskey burned as another wave went down his throat.
But not nearly as much as the spot on his arm where she’d placed her hand. As though there were something else she’d wanted to say.
He realized he’d wanted to ask her the same question - who was she planning to spend midnight with? - and had been too much of a chicken-shit to actually ask. Her words echoed belatedly in his head.
It’s not at all like that, really. Actually, I came over because I wanted to ask you something.
At this point, he didn’t even bother hiding it. He stared openly at the other side of the room, watching as Quistis and Aldric stood close to one another.
He couldn’t help but notice it now. The way Aldric would lean forward and Quistis would stiffen slightly. How he would joke or laugh, and Quistis would smile politely but her face would tighten subtly in that way it always did when she was holding something back. How he would brush her arm or her hands, and Quistis would find a way to subtly shift away.
She kept throwing small glances his way, and Seifer couldn’t help but shake the feeling he had just completely misread the situation. Why she had come over to see him. How she might really feel…
Nothing ventured, nothing gained, my friend.
You think you haven’t got a chance…but I’m telling you right here and now, that you do.
Don’t be a moron.
Fuck. He was being a moron, wasn’t he?
Seifer promptly ordered a glass of ice water from the bartender, gulped it down, slammed it on the table then slid off his stool.
11:58pm, December 31st, 2003
His boots thudded on the polished ballroom floor as he made his way over to their table. The crowd parted easily, no one wanting to get in the way of a tall, determined Seifer clearly on a mission.
As he arrived to stand in front of them, he pulled himself to his full height with his shoulders thrown back. Quistis turned to look up at him, a gentle look of surprise on her face.
“Hey,” he said gruffly, not having thought anything about what he’d say beyond that.
Her features softened, and a cautious smile started to play across her features.
“Hi,” she replied, turning to face him fully.
Aldric immediately placed himself directly behind Quistis, looming over her from behind. The movement didn’t escape Seifer’s attention, and his eyes immediately narrowed.
“Almasy. How wonderful of you to join us,” Aldric gestured, his voice far too polished and falsely polite for Seifer’s liking. “What an…unexpected surprise at this point of the night.”
“I’m sure you’re thrilled. Don’t worry, I’ll only be a minute.”
“Of course, of course. But you know, it’s only a couple minutes to midnight. We should really–”
Seifer bristled, and he couldn’t keep the gruffness out of his voice. “Yeah, I know the time. It’s why I have a question for the lady and not you.”
With that, he turned to Quistis, ignoring the indignant stammering mess that Aldric was suddenly becoming. Seifer’s heart hammered furiously as he recklessly threw out the question that’d be sitting in his chest all night.
“I never gave you the chance to tell me. Who did you want to be with at midnight, Trepe?”
Her eyes widened slightly for a moment, bright and blue and open. They held the power to either entrance him or shatter his ego with a single answer.
Then her expression softened. She looked certain. Affectionate. Relieved.
Everything and everyone else faded away in that moment. There was only that one perfect word, uttered so gently from her lips that he might’ve missed it had he not been focusing on it with every fiber of his being.
“You.”
12:00am, January 1st, 2004
The lights and the boisterous clamor of midnight striking went off all around them like fireworks. People were whistling, yelling, clapping, kissing, dancing. Glittering confetti fell from somewhere in the ceiling.
Seifer paid no attention to any of it. He only had eyes for the face in front of him, upturned and hopeful. Her eyes shone brightly and her lips had never looked softer.
Slowly, tentatively, he stepped forward and cupped her face in his hand. Then he leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers; a ghost of a touch, merely testing the waters.
The sensation was like a flutter of electricity that pulled him in, and he found himself leaning in further. Pressing more insistently. Bringing his other hand up to draw her face even nearer.
He told himself he would pull away the second she she started to shift away. It was just a midnight kiss; they were supposed to be chaste, friendly. Besides, Quistis was far too reserved to let any of this carry on, so he would follow her lead and just press his luck as much as he could until she signaled to stop.
But she didn’t. She kept leaning into the kiss, opening herself to him more and more. Seeking out his tongue as eagerly as he was hers. Pressing up firmly against him, wrapping her arms around his neck and curling her fingers into his hair. Letting out soft little whimpers and moans against his lips that sent blood rushing straight into places that were definitely not appropriate for a public gathering.
He pulled her in tighter by the waist and found his hands roving along the small of her back, up to her shoulders, around her torso. The desire to consume was suddenly sharp and overwhelming.
After what felt like an eternity, he realized he was moaning into the kiss as well and on the brink of taking their embrace into a realm of action that Quistis might not be willing to forgive him for in public.
When he finally did pull away, very reluctantly, the world slowly came back to him in bits and pieces.
The first thing he saw were her eyes, slightly dazed and out of focus like his. Her cheeks were flush, her elegantly pinned up hair slightly mussed, her lips full and rosy from being so thoroughly kissed.
She looked so goddamned perfect it hurt.
Then the sounds of the ballroom started to slowly filter in. The clinking of glasses, loud chatter and boisterous laughter. Lights and festive music.
Then a very loud, very raucous catcall.
Head jerking up, Seifer could see that a short distance away, the perky messenger girl had her hands cupped around her mouth, shamelessly shouting in their direction. The cowboy was next to her, wearing a wide cheeky grin with his hat tipped back.
Rinoa was standing beside them with her hands clasped around her face, beaming so hard she looked like she might shoot rainbows and sparkles out of her ears any minute. Squall stood stone-faced just behind her, arms crossed as he pointedly looked off to the side and away from them.
“Hyneee, that was so hot you two!! You should get a room,” Selphie shouted, winking obscenely. “Never thought you’d actually get your act together, but talk about bringing the pedal to the metal!”
“For Hyne’s sake, mind your own fucking business for once, would you?” Seifer growled. Instinctively, he drew Quistis into his chest as though he could shield her from the unexpected voyeurs.
Pleasingly, Seifer noticed she didn’t pull away when he did so. If anything, Quistis leaned her head forward, resting her temple on his shoulder as one of her hands curled against his chest.
A possessive and lustful beast suddenly roared up inside of him, and a million thoughts rushed through his mind, none of which he’d dare to say out loud.
The light finally seemed to switch in Rinoa’s head and she suddenly waved her hands and started herding the group away, leading them to the other side of the ballroom.
“Okay folks! Show’s over! Let’s go check out the fireworks now and give these two love birds some space, shall we?” Even as she was being dragged away, the Messenger Girl kept rubbernecking and it took the cowboy whispering something in her ear to make her finally lose interest.
Turning back to look down at the woman in his arms, Seifer found himself mumbling softly, “Guess I should walk you back to your room, now that the evening’s over.”
Quistis smiled teasingly at him, cocking her head.
“Since when were you such a gentleman, Seifer? Turning over a new leaf?”
He smirked back at her, his grin lopsided.
“Since now. Just decided to make that my New Year’s resolution. Gotta up my bar and be more of worthy of your attentions if we’re gonna spend more time together, don’t I?”
She hummed thoughtfully, fiddling with the lapels on his jacket as a playful look came over her face.
“Hmm. That’s an interesting resolution. Too bad it goes directly against mine.”
He raised an inquisitive eyebrow. “Oh? Why, what could the infamous Quistis Trepe possibly resolve to do even better this year?”
A hint of mischief crept into her voice, and suggestively she cocked her head to look up at him through those long lashes of hers.
“I was just thinking I need to step out of my comfort zone more. Maybe…try things a lady like me normally wouldn’t ever consider.”
The possessive beast in Seifer’s chest roared to life again, even louder and more rapacious than before. He was not a man who needed to hear something like that twice to know what his plans were.
“Well, it looks like only one of us is keeping our resolution this year. And I would hate to do anything to get in the way of that perfect record of yours...”
“So it’s decided then. Less gentlemanly behavior from you. At least for tonight…”
Seifer couldn’t help the wolfish hunger that crept into his smile.
“No need to tell me twice, boss.”
As he led her down the hallway, towards her room and away from the party, Seifer decided that New Year’s was indeed, a fucking fantastic holiday, and this was his very best one yet.