Gravity

Took a break from Broken to write something odd. My first try at first-person present-tense... I think *ever.* Needed a change. Woo for challenges... gah. So here it is.


~ Gravity ~ (working title, for now)

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In the eye of storm you'll see a lonely dove
The experience of survival is the key
To the gravity of love.
--Enigma (those three lines inspired this whole weird-arse thing)
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A storm's coming. It's been inside my lungs for hours, and now I know it. Pitch-black clouds, hinting at green, hover threatening past the open window. The sun's still out to shine on them, and the grass that lies so far away beneath them, and on the cobblestones at the centre of town. Everything's so bright, making the distant promise of water's onslaught seem darker.

It's silent out there. The town sounds scared. For some reason, I'm a little scared too.

Far from silent where we are, though. The bed we found must have been sitting here untouched for at least twenty years, and looks like it could be a lot older than that-- when he ripped off the bedspread it spilled clumps of dust on the floor. Now it screams its protest against the shifts of our weight, its iron-barred headboard thumping the wall as if in an attempt to escape. Old springs dig into my back. They hurt, and I like them.

Gaudy flowered wallpaper flakes brown from the walls. Why hasn't anyone moved back in here? Why have this bed, and that rocking chair, and that really creepy-ass teddy bear in the corner been left to sit alone for so long?

He pushes on my legs as he leans forward, and I grasp for the bars over my head when he hits my centre dead-on. My eyes have closed, and I can feel the weight of his breath as he hovers above me. "You're quiet today," he muses, his voice a shudder. Am I? I guess so. This is a weird place to fuck, after all. I can't help letting my mind wander. Still, if I knew that this was what he meant when he said he wanted to visit his mother, I wouldn't have been so reluctant to come with him.

I open my eyes again when those clouds finally blanket the sun. A heavy breeze is wafting into the room now, filled with electricity. My head's still lolled to the side, so I see the first fingers of lightning when they touch the field. The storm announces itself officially with a thunderclap whose vibration dissolves through both of us, and I gasp at the feeling. Now I'm filled with longing. I don't know where it comes from.

He reaches up to touch my face. His words are concerned and wet. "Why won't you look at me?"

Restless.

So I draw my eyes back to his. Funny, I never noticed the hint of green in them before. They regard me from beneath their own thick dust of brown lashes and coppery strings of hair with worry, and I wonder why. "What's wrong?" they ask me. It takes a moment for me to realize the words have actually puffed from his lips.

"Noth-ing." How could anng bng be wrong? I've got a beautiful mass of lusty Squall thrusting into me right now, in the soft, calculated way he loves to that sometimes makes me feel like we're making love instead of fucking. I couldn't ask for more than this. Whether he belives me or not, he won't ask me again about whatever he's seeing in me that bothers him. He never does.

The sky opens up with another rumble to dump fat buckets of water on Winhill. It makes its own thunder on the roof, and clicks rapidly on the window sill. A strong gust of wind meets us, scattering light drops across both our bodies, but we don't flinch. It feels good to cool off.

The smell of mixed wildflowers so characteristic to his place has been overrun by the storm. It's making my chest ache. I reach down from the bars to take myself into my hand, and moan quietly at the distraction. I need this.

A flash fills the room with white in unison with another long, deafening boom, right over our heads. I hear the window slam back down to the sill at the jolt and tear my eyes from Squall's fao fio find that a crack has driven its way up the glass. Rain begins slamming into it, distorting my view of the outside world within seconds.

I turn back to him, gasping continuously now as his thrusts and my own deep massage seem to meld into one. His eyes have closed, his look of concentration making his pending orgasm evident. His ears are getting red, and ites mes me smile. I've never told him that it happens when he's getting close-- the only time it does happen-- so I doubt he knows.

"Zell, I'm--" But his warning's cut off by a new wordless sound as it tumbles from his throat before I can tell him that I already know. He lurches forward, abs flexing gorgeously as he buries himself as deep as he can and stills, tensed. I'm at the edge the second I feel his hot rush filling me-- his warmth spreads to my fingers and my feet, and when his eyes flash open to stare me down with grey, I'm lost. My hips shudder upwards to try to get closer to him. All I want is his perfection inside me, as full as I can be even if it hurts, and I can't breathe until I feel my own heat cascading over my fingers.

We don't stay where we are for long. I've only just closed my eyes when he leans back to release his weight from my legs and leaves me empty. I feel him lift from the bed and look over to find him stepping gingerly across the room. "Cramp," he explains as he bends down to massage his calf, wincing. Apparently that doesn't work. He starts pacing, limping, and he's beautiful while he does it.

My hand's all sticky, so I let go and grab the bedspread from the floor and use the underside to wipe myself off before dropping it back down. "I miss Quez," I blurt out, just before another rumble and flash. So, that's what's bugging me. I realize it's been months since I've felt her energy course through my body, years since I've actually needed her to be there. Great, now I'm thinking about her and it's making my chest freeze up again. "I miss fighting-- no, I get to fight in the training centre all the time." I backpedal. It's not usually so hard to understand myself, but Squall has left me groggy. "I miss... I miss having something to fight *for*. And having her there with me when I do."

Squall doesn't look at me. "Don't tell me you wish Ultimecia was still around..."

Fuck, I could never wish that, and he knows it. I don't know what I want. I shouldn't keep talking about this, but I do anyway. "I think I'll junction her again for a while when we get back."

He sits on the edge of the bed, and I resist the urge to get up and hug him. I've learned the hard way that if he wants to be touched, he'll initiate it. "You know that's against policy."

"Against *your* policy," I shoot back. "It would just be for, like, an hour. For the sake of old times, y'know?"

"You don't need her, so you don't get her." His voice is hard. He's being stern with me. I hate that.

"I *do* need her. You don't understand this, because you never got attached to Shiva. It was so easy for you to throw her away."

He laughs a little, cynically, and shakes his head. "You think that was easy?"

"Sure, or you wouldn't have done it. You wouldn't've made the rest of us give up our best friends with you." I know I sound pissed. I am, and I want him to know it too.

"The GFs would have driven you all insane. I was already losing some of my training by the time I let Shiva go. Within a year, we would have forgotten how to fight at all."

"I just want half an hour. Or fifteen minutes. Or five." I surprise myself with my desperation. I didn't know I miss her *that* much.

"If you junction without permission, I'll have to suspend you from the training centre. You know that. I can't bend rules for anyone."

"I don't care. You can't stop me."

"I know," he replies sofly. He brings up a hand to rest it on my thigh. "Just, please... don't."

Aw, shit, he's being sweet. Why's he have to get like this now? I break when he squeezes my leg-- I jump up behind him to drop my feet over the edge of the bed on either side of him, and rest my cheek against his back as I snake my arms around his waist. Inhaling deeply, I find that he still smells like sex, and it makes me tighten my grip. I fucking love this smell when it's on him. But I still can't promise not to visit Quez.

"I know she doesn't mean to, but Quezacoatl will destroy your mind. You've lost too much already. I... I don't want to lose you."

The words make my stomach tighten. That was the most affectionate thing he's ever said to me. I get it, he's manipulating me, but he's covering my hands with his now and locking our fingers together, so I don't give a shit. "Fine, I won't touch her," I grumble, trying to sound annoyed. I'm actually flying. "So why are we here, anyway? You haven't really told me yet."

Squall takes the kind of deep breath he does whe'se's thinking hard. "I wanted to show Raine something."

I scrunch up my face. What a weird thing to say. "Hm?" I want him to continue, because I don't know how to reply.

"Maybe she... maybe she'll find peace."

He's told me about seeing her ghost downstairs, in the bar, that day he visited before we pounded Ultimecia to shit. Quistis and Irvine were there, but they say they didn't see anything. Squall didn't say a word to anyone for a week. I don't knhat hat to make of it, really. I've never seen anything really supernatural, other than dealing with guardian forces, and although I try to keep my mind open, ghosts are a damn difficult thing to wrap it around. But he believes, so I humor him. I have to know what he's thinking, and his stance isn't giving me anything. "What do you want to show her?"

"That I've found someone."

Holy fuck. Squall's just a big bucket of affection today, and it would make me cry ifwasnwasn't so shocking. I just hold him tighter, and stay quiet. I don't think I could say anything if I wanted to. Yeah, weird for me, I know. But he's being weird too. So I'm allowed.

He echoes my self-speculation. "I thought you'd start blabbering when I said that."

I shrug and kiss his shoulder blade. Ah, he knows me. Feels good. Sure, I make my personality known pretty easily... It's just good to know he pays attention.

The storm's not letting up. Every roll of thunder sounds like its about to send the roof crashing down on our heads, and I love it, even more than I love listening to Squall's heart through his back. I pretend it's Quez, and that it's buried right down in the deepest parts of my brain. I want to feed her my memories, almost. If it didn't make Squall worry as much as he admitted it does, I'd do it without a second thought.

I don't even realize how dark the room's gotten until Squall lets gomy hmy hands, leaving them clammy and cold. "What?"

"Something's wrong." He tightens beneath my cheek and I let go of him, alarmed by his tone. He sounds forbodeing, like his instincts are telling him something. He trusts them, and I have to too. He's rarely wrong.

"Whaddya mean?" I ask as he jumps to his feet. All of a sudden, the wind's raging, and it isn't just thunder threatening the stability of the roof. There's a continuous crashing, howling sound outside. The window starts jostling about in its frame, hit with a flurry of cracking sounds. It's hailing.

Squall darts for the window. He reaches for the bottom to open it, and it shatters, covering his arms with glass. "Shit!" I yell, jumping up myself. Inch-wide hailstones start cracking into the floor and sliding towards me. But he's just standing there, like he's dazed, staring outside. He doesn't even look at me when I approach. He's only cut on one arm, and though he's bleediit'it's not deep enough to drip. Thank Hyne he's alright-- we didn't bring any potions with us.

"We have to go downstairs." He says blankly.

I blink at him. The colour has drained from his face. Seeing him scared is nothing less than horrifying in itself. I follow his gaze out the window, and my lungs fill with too much dread to make any room for air. There's a monster outside, in that field, past the rickety rooftops. I can't call it anything else, a t blt black spinning cloud, not wavering left or right as it grips the ground, a dark scar across clouds that seem white under its contrast. I almost scream when I realize that the stillness can only be an illusion-- it's heading for *us.*

"Now!" He grasps my wrist in the whipping wind, sliding in the slickness of the rain that's found our bodies. He's dragging me out the door, and I'm running with him. I almost trip when I step on a hailstone, and then we're around the corner and flying naked down the stairs. I can't believe this. It can't be real. It isn't. It's a nightmare. I dream about tornados all the time. This is just one of those times.

We make it behind the bar, and to the door at the edge of it. He slams it open. But there aren't any stairs past it-- it's just a closet, holding old alcohol and cleaning supplies. No cellar. Oh fuck.

Squall leaves me there and grabs the edge of a table. "Help me!" He yells at me. I can't move. abanabandoned bar's heavy front door whips open, and the screen door on the other side of it is thrown outwards, flapping on the hinges like paper. Squall starts dragging that heavy table across the room, throwing chairs out of his way. "You want to die? Fucking *help* me!" The blatant panic in his voice jolts my legs into motion. He's as scared as I am, and he can still think. I have to, too. We drag it together as the screen door is torn from its hinges. One of fronfront windows shatters loudly, and I try to ignore it as we reach what must be our destination. Squall opens the door to the cupboard under the stairs. "Get in!"

I do, finding it empty, and turn around expecting him to follow me. I have to hold up my arm to keep him from closing the door in my face. "What the fuck are you doing?"

"I'm putting the table in front of it. It'll lodge under the doorknob. You'll be safe. Let go. Just trust me, damn it!" He's angry and panicked, probably frustrated with me for not letting him kill himself over this.

"No! What'll you do?" I have to scream over the roar of the wind. It's like a continuous bomb surrounding us. The walls are creaking madly under the wind's whip and howl.

He just keeps pushing, but I hold fast against him. "Let. Fucking. Go!" He's screaming, desperate.

"This isn't the time to be self destructive, you lunatic!" I grab his arm and yank him in with me, slamming the door shut behind us.

"Idiot! It'll open without anything against it!" He lunges away and I have to grab him around the waist to keep him from leaving. He slams me back into the wall, and I slide down it until I'm sitting on the floor. I'm probably bruised, but I can't feel it. He doesn't try to get up again-- instead he turns and rolls on top of me, sheilding me, curling above me in the dark. I reach for him right away, tugging him down against me until he falls.

If we were junctioned right now, we could trade places with the GFs. We could disappear into the other dimension until this is all over. But we're completely alone. Completely human, left to deal with this as we are.

The buildings in Winhill are at least a hundred years old. I can hear them toppling already in big crashes and ripping sounds. The one we're in isn't any younger. "Oh fuck... why did we come here... why did we have to come here *today*..." I jump gig gigantic crash shakes us, raining dust down onto our heads. I think that was part of the top floor. His arms fly around my back, and now we're kissing, and it could be the last time we ever do.

I pull back to look at him. I want to burn his face into my eyes, even if I can barely see him at all. But his hand finds the back of my head and tucks it beneath his chin. I can't fight. I'm shaking too much, and then I realize he is too. I ld bld be sheltering him right now. This is all wrong. He could be curled under *me.* We're gonna die. I know it. Or he will if I don't, his bare back left open to the brunt of this structure's pending collapse. "I love you." Oh shit. Did I say that? No, no I didn't, it was a whisper a few inches away from my ear. I can't believe I even heard it. I can't believe he *said* it.

"Squall--" A woman's smiling face flashes in front of my eyes, cutting me off. She's ty, ty, and young, and strangely familiar although I've never seen her before. I let out a startled yell at the same time Squall does, and I have to hold him tighter to make sure we're not already dead. "Did you... did you see--"

"Yeah." His voice is tight and strained. Oh, hell no, he's not allowed to start crying. He had better not. "It was her."

"Oh, fuck... Fuck Squall, I'm so fucking scared..." Now *this* is panic. I just saw a fucking ghost, on top of everything else? I can't put my fear into fighting off a storm, like I can with anything else that could threaten me. And him. I think I'm gonna scream. We're helpless. I've never been helpless like this before.

"We'll be fine, now." He's too calm, all of a sudden. The creaks of the walls around us have turned to a constant scream, like there's too much weight on them. Fear leaves me when it's about to swallow me up in insanity. I'm lucid. I'm peaceful. "I... I think this is it..."

"It is."

The final crash is nothing less than deafening. Squall's chest is slammed into mine, harder than he could do it on his own. There's something crushing my hands, blinding pain as they're driven sickeningly deep into his back. He cries out, choked, against my ear, and we're falling backwards. My back slams into the ground, and more pain spears into my side.

Silence.

Squall's still here, laying on me.

Breathing.

Thank fucking mother fucking Hyne in the fucking sky. I try to lift my arms to shake him, but they're still pinned. The sun strikes my eyelids. They fly open. There's wood on top of us-- the remnants of the stairs. I can only see a sliver of the sky-- blue, now-- through a crack in the rubble above us. "Squall?" I hurt like hell. He doesn't reply. "Squall!" I turn my head, but I can't see his face. I can barely talk. Too much pressure on us. "Wake the fuck up!"

"Mff."

I collapse back with the force of my relief. "Are you okay?"

"No."

Another spike of dread. His breath is too laboured, his voice too weak. There's wetness between us, blood, and I hope to Hyne it's mine. "Do you think your back's broken?" At the thought of broken bones, I realize my hands probably are. I may not ever get to fight again. I don't care.

"N-hn." It's breathy and high in my ear. "Legs numb. In... ternal bleeding... too. Can't breathe." He coughs, spilling warm liquid onto my shoulder.

"Someone get over here now!" I don't know if anyone else even lived, but I keep screaming as loud as I can, my panic fueled by his pain. "Now now now! He's fucking..." I can't keep it up. I feel weak. "...hurt!" The last word comes out in a squeak, and a shudder's taking me over, and I'm squishing my nose into the side of his head and smelling his hair. I break down right in his ear, shaking with sobs that tug on my hands and send pain arcing up to my shoulders. This isn't right. Can't be happening. I'm ready to fucking wake up already.

"Don't do that." He sounds dazed. "'M okay."

"Where are you?" Holy shit, I think that's Quistis' voice. What's she doing here?

"In..." I clear my throat and try again. "In here! Over here! The bar!"

"Okay, we're coming!" I don't think she recognizes my voice. "Any sign of them yet?" she calls out, quieter than when she had called to me.

"No." Irvine. "Everyone else got into the garden before it hit. That must be them in there."

"You don't know that for sure. Keep looking where you are." Quistis.

"Squaaaall? Zelll?"

Selphie? What the hell? Are they *all* here?

The pile of wood shifts over us, and then I can see Selphie's eyes, and her smile, and it's the most beautiful thing in the world. "Hey," I greet her meekly, trying to smile back at her but not quite making it. That grin of hers is gonna disappear in a few minutes when she sees Squall. He's still breathing, but he's so limp on top of me.

"How are you?" she asks, her light tone odd and obviously forced, as though making a passing greeting. She's amazing, putting this on for us. I don't know how she does it.

"Not... too good."

"Okay, Irvine, you were right. You might want to get over here," Quistis calls, out of view.

The wood is being shifted to the side, scraping loudly. One piece lifts, and another, sending heavy drops of water down on us.

"Aw, I'm sorry to hear that." Selphie replies, eyes twinkling and pained as she tries to keep her voice lighthearted. Squall's in her view now, and she can probably the blood that fell from his mouth onto my shoulder. "Seif? Come here." Oh, wow, is her voice ever shaking. She disappears with her hand over her mouth.

A series of thumps crosses the rubble, and Seifer's face is over us. He goes green in an instant. "Oh... fuck."

I can't handle seeing people freak out. He doesn't get upset very often... so when he does, he doesn't know how to hide it. "Help him."

Seifer just nods. Too bad it takes something like this to make him speechless.

The gap above us is widening. Then Irvine and Seifer are tugging the beam from across my hands, and I yelp at the pain when they fall to my sides. Several other studens that I don't know are helping them, I think. When it's finally gone, Squall feels light. Too light. He groans. "They're here. You'll be okay now," I whisper.

"'f course I will." He replies, almost sounding annoyed.

A hand reaches down for Squall's back, stopping just above him. "Don't touch him," I warn, instincts kicking in. "We think his back's broken."

"No shit." Seifer mutters a series of Curagas, six I think. Squall gasps and arches ba

"You okay?"

"You don't even know how good that felt," He replies, his voice significantly stronger. "Get me out of here."

"You got it." Seifer grabs him under the arms and lifts him. I have to close my eyes when I see his face. His lips are red with blood, and now a trickle's making its way down his chin. I open them again and he's looking at me, I think, though his eyes aren't focused. I watch someone meet them with a blanket; Seifer urges Squall into it, then drapes him over his arms. No one makes a comment about our nudity, and I'm not surprised. When Squall threatens to leave my sight, I stand.

Wrenching, terrible pain. My side. My knees buckle as blood rushes to my head, and I fall back down, clouded. That only hurts more. I think I've groaned. "Zell?" Quistis again, worry seeping through her professionalism. She appears above me, and it's her turn to change colour. Why? She's staring at my waist, so I struggle to keep my eyes open and follow her.

Red. I'm red all down my leg, across my stomach. "The hell..." There's a splinter of wood, at least a foot long, on what's left of the floor beside me. This can't be good. I lose my focus on it. My head falls back, light.

"Shit!" I chuckle at the sound of Quistis swearing. Then I remember the severity required to make her do so. "Zell's *not* okay. Help me!"


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Gah, so, whatcha think? This started out as casual screwing and talking during a storm, and then... yesh, things kinda exploded. Who was I kidding? I don't do 'casual.' I need a kick in this extremist butt of mine.
Anywho, should I bother continuing? I would *really* appreciate some feedback for this. Thankies for reading. ^_^