How Not to Date Blondes (FFVIII)

[first-seventhe.livejournal.com]

How Not to Date Blondes, Ch 18: In Which Quistis Loses Her Composure
Authors: first_seventhe and rosencrantz
Fandom: FFVIII
Characters/Pairings: Quistis/Zell
Rating: NC-17

ff.net for censored version || enkida also contains uncensored version || or see below



"Actually," he said, his eyes popping open and sparkling with mischief as he reached for her. Quistis yelped in surprise when he suddenly enveloped her in a rough, full-body hug, even going so far as to lift her off of the floor and jump up and down. Not that she wasn't all for even more naked full-body contact with Zell, but this was hardly what she was expecting from his heady ministrations of only moments ago.

"What the hell are you doing?" she yelled, slapping at his chest with the limited movement she could manage from her arms. Zell set her back on the floor gently, but refused to give up his tight hold, the grin still plastered over his face. Instead, he began to drag her insistently towards the shower cabin.

"Oops, looks like I got you covered in all this shit, huh? Guess you're just gonna have to come with."

Quistis' flustered expression of annoyance died a quick, almost comical death as her eyes widened. "You want me to shower with you?" she asked incredulously. "Have you seen the size of my shower?"

Zell tossed a quick look over his shoulder and reached back, fumbling with the door of the cabin. It swung open, and he eyed the shower - most obviously meant for one - curiously. "Looks perfect," he decided, dragging her in with him. It was a pretty tight fit, but almost immediately Quistis understood that this was not necessarily a bad thing. She came to this realization as she smoothed her hands over his chest, acutely aware of just how closely she was pressed up against Zell's body. He reached underneath her arm, carefully maneuvering them both around until he could reach the knobs of the shower. A sudden blast of icy cold water drenched them both, but with a muffled curse and more fidgeting, Zell managed to turn the stream of water into a warm, comfortable curtain. They both remained still for a few moments, listening to the sound of each other's breathing mingle with the soft hiss of the falling water. Finally Quistis shifted, reaching upwards to push away Zell's soaked bangs. He blinked, shaking a few water droplets off, and gave her a tentative smile.

Quistis reached over his shoulder and grabbed her body wash, squeezing a generous amount into her palm. "Close your eyes," she instructed him, and when he complied, she gently massaged the soap into his scalp, building up a thick lather. She worked slowly, pulling her fingers through his short hair from the base of his neck and moving outwards towards its spiked, uneven ends. Quistis felt the tension slowly leaking out of Zell's body and smiled to herself. It was a little surprising: there was a small part of her waiting expectantly for the overwhelming feeling of awkwardness, the humiliating realization that she was completely naked in front of a man who had barely been a friend a month ago, something or anything that could interrupt the surprising comfort of the situation. Quistis was used to this particular feeling, waiting for the inevitable crash of disappointment that seemed to plague her life. But for some reason, there was nothing awkward yet; no looming sense of panic telling her to run. Only a sense of... welcome anticipation. Flushing from the thought, Quistis focused on rinsing Zell's hair carefully. She slicked his freshly-washed bangs away from his face.

Zell let out a small sigh as she finished her ministrations, then pushed away from her, watching intently as she lathered up her pouf with more soap. He continued to watch her closely as she began to sponge his body off, beginning at his neck. She traced over the contours of his chest carefully, trying to memorize each curve. There wasn't much room to maneuver in the cramped shower; after a moment of hesitation, Zell reached up and planted his hands onto the wall above her head. Quistis took the opportunity to crouch down, dragging the pouf along the edge of his hip and down his thigh. She paid special attention to the tight line of muscle over his butt; Zell really did have the finest ass she'd ever seen. She noted, however, with more than a little disappointment that no amount of gentle swabbing seemed to be rousing any kind of response in the one area of his body she was most interested in at that particular moment. His cock lay flaccid despite her attempts to coax a response out of him. What was she doing wrong? Finally giving up, Quistis let out a small sigh of disappointment and stood, allowing Zell to rinse away the remains of the soap. "I'm done," she said, reaching underneath Zell's arm to deposit the small pouf back onto its hook against the wall. Her motion was arrested by his fingers; he gripped her hand gently, freeing the soapy pouf from her grasp.

"I ain't," he replied, turning her around to face the wall. Almost reverently, he scooped her hair away from her neck and began to massage the soap into her shoulders. Quistis inhaled sharply at his unexpected massage; he followed the lazy circles he was tracing over her back with the flat of his hand. She bit her lip and held back a throaty sigh; the contrast of the almost-rough texture of the poof was mingling deliciously with the water-slicked smoothness of his palm. His fingers would flex and knead into her flesh occasionally, drawing a shiver from her as he traced down her back. She tensed as he lightly swabbed the pouf over the line of her buttocks; lower, lower, she hissed to herself.

"Okay," Zell murmured to her, and with a jolt, Quistis realized she'd spoken aloud. But that was pushed from her mind quickly; he'd fumbled and dropped the pouf when she spoke, but his hand continued its slow journey downwards even as he pushed her against the shower wall. She widened her stance almost unconsciously as Zell's fingers traveled lower, slipping between her spread legs and cautiously, almost shyly skimming across the thatch of curls shielding her from his touch. Impatiently, Quistis wriggled her hips, trying to press herself against his outspread fingers, which were so maddeningly near - what was he waiting for?

"Uhh... Quisty... you sure you want me to... y'know..." He paused, swallowing, and she could almost feel the nervousness radiating off of him. "Umm... touch you there?"

No, Zell, I want you to do more than just touch me, much more, she wanted to snap at him, but reigned in her impatience and temper as she realized that his hesitation was the result of inexperience rather than a lack of motivation. Zell needed guidance and reassurance, she thought dimly. What he needed was an instructor. Resting her cheek against the cool tile of the shower, Quistis let out a low chuckle.

"Just follow your instincts," she said firmly, looking over her shoulder to give him an encouraging smile. "I'll help you through the rest."

Carefully, Zell cupped her with one hand; his other hovered uncertainly over her lower back. She felt softer than he'd imagined; he flexed his fingers and was almost surprised by the heat she was radiating. Cautiously, he traced the outline of her lips with his index finger and almost jerked away when she responded with a soft, breathy moan. He traced her again, with more confidence this time, and then boldly allowed his index finger to run down the line of her slit. Abruptly Zell jerked away when he realized that the heat he was feeling from Quistis' body actually was liquid; thick, slightly sticky and scented with a strange, foreign musk. Curious, Zell withdrew his hand and lifted it upwards, careful not to let the drizzle of water from the shower wash away the evidence of her arousal. He brought his fingers to his nose, sniffing them thoughtfully while Quistis watched him with half-lidded eyes. Taken by a sudden whim, Zell stuck out his tongue and gave his fingers a quick lick; so that's what Quistis tastes like, he thought faintly as the pungent flavor spread through his mouth. His action brought a low moan out of Quistis, who was still observing him; suddenly, he wanted more.

Circling her waist with one arm, Zell returned his hand to its former position between Quistis' thighs and palmed her. With his other arm he pulled her torso away from the wall even as he pressed the rest of his body against her. She seemed to have liked it before when he touched her breast; encouraged by the memory of her response then, Zell dragged his thumb over her nipple, watching over her shoulder as it pebbled into a hard bud under each stroke.

Quistis sucked in her breath sharply. She pressed her palms against the tiles and leant back against Zell's body, trying to give his hand more room to play. She felt him fumbling to thrust his fingers between her folds; even clumsy as he was, however, she could barely bring herself to speak. Zell was obviously quite clueless about the workings of the female body; had he known any better, he might have tried to be gentler, or at the very least sought out the tiny bundle of nerves that would ensure her pleasure before trying to delve his fingers inside of her. Still, she couldn't say she was complaining; somehow, in his attempt to position his one hand on her breast while his other was between her legs, he'd shoved her roughly against the hard tile of the shower wall. With the way he was pressing against her insistently, he was creating a delicious, if completely unintended, friction against her clit. Moaning softly, Quistis spread her legs a little wider and was rewarded by the feeling of his finger sinking into her deeply. "Ohh," she breathed in surprise, and Zell froze.

"I - I didn't hurt ya, did I?" he asked, panicking, and tried to withdraw. Quistis snarled at him in response.

"Don't. Move!"

Zell froze again, his face flushing.

After catching her breath, Quistis let her eyes flutter open and gave Zell an amused, if somewhat unfocused, glance. "No, you didn't hurt me," she managed to say. "But..." she flinched as the finger buried inside of her twitched. "You don't just... drive in hard," she mumbled, fumbling for coherence despite the fact that she could feel herself pulsing with need. His finger flexed again, and Quistis let out a low hiss. "Slowly," she grit out. "And gently. Women are... sensitive, there."

Zell began to move his finger in cautious, shallow thrusts inside of her; when she didn't complain, he sped up. But now, Quistis noticed with some disappointment, he was no longer mashing her against the wall, allowing her to concentrate fully on the motion of his fingers. Which was perhaps a good thing, she thought as she winced again, this time with a little discomfort. "Zell," she said warningly, and the frantic movement of his hand slowed. "Not so fast. And not so deep," she added, letting out a small sigh of relief as he completely withdrew the offending digit.

"Uh, but... ain't that what girls are always tellin' guys to do?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Y'know, all that harder and faster stuff...?"

Quistis wasn't sure whether to laugh or groan. Why exactly was she having this conversation with Zell again, when he was literally a knuckle's length away from fucking her? Did she want that? Yes, every nerve in her body replied. Steeling herself, she grit her teeth and tried to formulate an answer. "Sadly, Zell, real girls aren't made like the Girls Next Door. It's not always about going as hard or as fast as you can. Especially not the first time," she added. "Not unless you want someone to end up getting hurt." The tone of Quistis' voice clearly suggested that she wasn't necessarily going to be the victim.

Zell, however, had frozen, again. "First time? Y'mean, I'm really..." He sounded truly and completely shocked.

Quistis let out another soft sigh. "Yes, Zell, I think I'd know," she said quietly. Then she sucked in her breath as she felt him lean in towards her. She was surprised when he began to kiss her gently, and she could feel his lips shaping into an irrepressible grin against her shoulder as he did.

"Tell me what to do, Quisty," he whispered to her, and this time he was unable to keep the eagerness out of his voice. Quistis found herself smiling in response, and bit back a moan when he dragged his finger over the cleft between her legs. She shuddered against him and forced herself to relax.

"Two," she whispered, feeling very clearly what was missing from Zell's cautious touches. "Use two fingers..." She bit back a moan when he eagerly complied, this time stroking her with both fingers, still not daring to penetrate past the outer folds of her lips. Even so, the soft, promising caresses he was torturing her with were enough to send tendrils of desire spiking through her abdomen.

"Like this?" Zell was asking her.

"Hmm? Oh yes," Quistis murmured, distracted by the gentle rhythm his slowly sweeping fingers were setting. "You can go deeper," she added, lowering herself against his palm for emphasis.

The tip of one finger slipped into her tentatively, eased by the slickness already coating both his hand and the inside of her thighs. She nearly moaned in relief at the sensation of him cautiously stretching her and resisted the urge to grind herself against his wrist. "Deeper," she managed to choke out when the finger stopped.

The sound of Zell's heavy breaths echoed in her ear more loudly than the hiss of the falling water. "But... it sounded like I -"

"It didn't all hurt," Quistis quickly corrected him. Unable to bear the strain of waiting, she shifted her hips slightly, forcing his finger to sink inside fully. "It feels good," she whispered, arching her back against his chest as she rocked against him. Unconsciously following her movements, he let his hand curl into her until his palm was resting flush against her skin, and his thumb, oh god, his thumb, was pressing dangerously close to her clit, which was all but screaming for more attention. "Move your thumb," she managed to hiss out, shifting her hips against his cupped hand, and he finally did.

"Oh, Hyne," groaned Quistis in response, her eyes closing.

"Oh, Hyne," repeated Zell, sounding vaguely surprised and a little astonished. If there was one thing to say in his favor, it was that he was a quick study, and very soon his thumb was tracing slick, uneven lines back-and-forth atop her clit, sending jolts of electric heat through her pelvis. His touch was a little hard, but he was moving slowly enough that she could bear the heavy intensity. Her muscles tightened, and Quistis leaned her head back onto Zell's shoulder. His finger had slowed to a slow, unsteady pressure inside her, and his thumb continued its relentless twitching against her sensitive nub. A heavy heat was growing slowly from her loins, and all Quistis really knew was that she wanted more. Never mind her hasty words to Zell - her body was crying out for more, harder, deeper -

The motion slowed, and Quistis' hips bucked against his hand before she knew what she was doing. "Zell?" she managed to say, feeling his body moving slightly behind her. His still hand brushed against her clit again as he shifted his position, and it was all she could do to not jerk in surprise. But then she felt Zell's other hand slowly sliding down her wet stomach and towards the pool of warmth between her thighs. It stopped right above the small patch of hair.

"Quisty, can I... would that be... good?" he murmured in her ear, his hand still applying pressure against her.

"Yes," Quistis gasped, imagining it - no, fuck imagining, she told herself. This was happening. It was better than imagining. "Yes."

Zell tentatively began moving his hand again, slowly pumping his finger inside her, not hard and fast like before - this time he was slower, and more deliberate. Quistis felt the muscles of her abdomen clench up in a slightly dazed motion - but then Zell's other fingers began a slow tingling descent towards the knot of heat, and Quistis closed her eyes, overcome by even this simple sensation. One hand brushed up against her lips, lightly, while he continued the steady motion with his other. Even the faint sensation of pressure near her clit was enough to make her moan out loud.

Encouraged by the sound, Zell pressed a little harder, letting his index finger slip through her in search of the small fold which had coaxed that amazing sound out of Quisty last time. He was crouched uncomfortably behind Quistis to give both of his hands access, and while the angle was a little awkward, the low panting sound Quisty was making was worth the mild burn in his thigh muscles. He fumbled blindly through the slick area, listening closely for some kind of reaction from Quistis. She was breathing hard, in his ear, her hips gently following every movement of his left hand. His right continued to rub, moving around, searching for something that would make her feel -

"Oh," Quistis moaned.

"Is that good?" Zell asked, feeling the hard nub of flesh underneath his finger. He made a small circle on it, almost tentatively, and froze as Quistis' entire body jerked against his. His hand almost slipped away from her, and he paused in panic, looking down at her clenched eyes and flushed face. He must have done something wrong again, because -

"Don't stop," Quistis pleaded.

Surprised, Zell leaned in, carefully. "You sure?" he asked, incredulous, lightly circling the spot with his finger once again. "Is this - good?"

Is this good?>> Quistis could have laughed. Zell's fingers were lightly caressing her clit now, his touch no longer heavy and bruising. Waves of hot pleasure rippled through her thighs; she was inordinately glad of his strong solid body behind her. She wasn't sure whether she'd be able to stand on her own. Zell's fingers on her - in her - felt so different than her own. The touch of both of his hands was unbearably good; even with his strong fingers fumbling against her and his hesitant movements, it was so much better than anything she'd ever done to herself, anything she'd ever thought about. Hyne, Quistis thought a little hysterically. Ambidextrous is an understatement. "Yes, Zell," she choked out. "Please don't stop."

"It's good?" he asked huskily, pumping his finger into her a little harder, as if claiming her with his hands and his words - Quistis could feel the heat building as his finger stretched her further - "You like it?" The sound of his voice was a cool salve against the insistent pressure his motions were creating, grounding her to him just as much as his arms were.

The added tension was building in her, the tingling heat now running up her spine. Zell's finger slipped from her clit, but before she could even gasp in frustration he'd found it again, murmuring something against her neck. He seemed to want words. "Yes," she gasped, and was surprised at the raw need in her own voice. "Yes, Zell, please." His fingers worked at her, relentlessly driving her forward, fanning the small waves of pleasure into longer spasms of need. The rhythm wasn't steady, but that didn't even matter; this wasn't a perfect daydream, this was reality: Zell, Zell - ah - Zell... All she could think about was how explosively close she was, how unbelievably tense her muscles were, how badly she was turned on by this and how nothing would really ever be the same again -

"Hyne, you are so hot," Zell murmured against her neck, unaware that he was even speaking out loud. His finger slipped a bit, plunging deeper than he'd really intended, but Quistis gave him a loud moan in response, so he continued. Her breathing had turned into short, sharp gasps, some of which sounded intermittently like his name, others like words he'd certainly never heard Quistis say in polite conversation. He started to wonder whether he should be doing anything different; Irvine'd always said girls were hard, and so far this had been easy, just like learning a new way to put his hands in Booya or something. "Quisty, should I -"

"No!" Quistis said hastily; "just - keep - please -" The curling heat was so intense she could barely think, the sensation of Zell's fingers unsteadily getting her closer and closer to the release she was so desperately craving.

"Okay," Zell whispered into her neck, and Quistis lost it.

"I-" was all she really had time to cry out before the knot between her thighs burst. Her abdomen muscles shuddered around the pulsing tightness inside her as she pressed her clit against Zell's hand. The heat erupted into flames of intense pleasure as the orgasm hit her, hard. Quistis felt her knees give out, and Zell's hands pulled away from her to catch her; the brushing of his hands and fingers against her throbbing clit as he withdrew from her sent her off into an audible cry and another shudder.

She felt the waves of heat slowly subside and realized that Zell was holding her, pressing her tightly against his chest. Her skin was tingling, over-sensitized, and gradually Quistis realized she was still being pelted mercilessly by droplets of lukewarm water. Fighting against the lethargic haze that was threatening to overtake her, she twisted and reached for the knob of the shower, shutting off the stream of water. As she settled back against Zell's chest, Quistis took the opportunity to enjoy the feel of his firm muscles even as she tried to come to grips with her first truly satisfying orgasm.

So this is what Rinoa and Selphie were always going on about, she thought lazily as she watched a droplet of condensed steam trickle down along the tiled wall. Nothing had changed - the world was still moving forward beyond those shower walls, students coming and going, missions being assigned, classes being taught. Just another ordinary day at Balamb, its residents steadily keeping pace to the rhythm of their military life. And yet somehow, fundamentally, everything had changed within the space of one short morning. Quistis blinked, watching the pearl of water finally succumb to gravity and shatter against the shower floor. She didn't feel like a cog in Garden's machinery today; she felt like a person. A living, breathing, achingly real flesh and blood woman.

Zell shifted behind her, his hands lightly rubbing her arms. Quistis closed her eyes and tried her hardest to store this moment in her mind, knowing that this blissful sense of self wouldn't last forever. The analyzing, the over-thinking - those would come later. For now, she simply rested against Zell and breathed.

Zell, for his part, was trying his hardest not to say something ridiculous, like "Wow." It wasn't easy to stand naked in a shower with a post-orgasmic Quistis Trepe and feel anything other than a little incredulous. Well, there was one other thing he was feeling. Zell shifted a little again, trying to keep Quistis' warm body pressed against him without feeling like his slowly-growing stiffy was going to poke her in the back. He couldn't imagine that would be comfortable for either of them. And Quistis certainly looked comfortable; he'd never noticed how tense her face could be until now, when all that tension was gone. He tightened his arms around her in a rough hug, claiming her for his own.

But the part of his wet body that didn't have a warm Quistis pressed against it was beginning to cool off. Zell tried his best to ignore it, but without the warmth of the shower water, his chill was returning. Reluctantly, he released his tight grip on Quistis, leaving his hands on her shoulders. "C'mon, Quisty, let's get out before we get cold."

Quistis murmured something in response, but duly turned around and climbed out of the shower. She reached for the fluffy pink towel hanging on the rack, and then glanced around the room in confusion.

"Oh," she said, as if something had just occurred to her. She wrapped the pink towel around her body and left the room; but before Zell could get disappointed, she came back around the corner with the small Garden-issue gym towel in her hand. Quistis offered it to him with a wry smile. "You seem to have dropped this."

Zell grinned back in relief. "Thanks." They dried off in silence. Zell wondered what was supposed to happen now: should there be conversation? Or would she think he was a blabbermouth? Irvine always said you were supposed to cuddle after that sort of thing, but Zell wasn't quite sure whether Quisty was the cuddling type. And where would they cuddle anyway? The bathroom was tiny! Zell thought frantically back to last month's issue of Girls Next Door, trying desperately to remember what his favorite main characters did after the big, uh, scene. But all he could remember was a tasteful fade-to-black. "Shit," he muttered, despite himself.

Quistis, toweling off her hair, paused to glance at him. "Hmm?"

"Nothin'," Zell said, blushing and turning away. "I just - what do we do now, Quisty?"

Quistis laughed. The response surprised him, and Zell glanced back at her to see a slow smile spreading across her face.

"We get dressed, Zell," Quistis said, as if it were blatantly obvious.

"Oh. Right!" Zell grinned back. Well, if Quisty wasn't all weirded out by what had just happened, that was a good sign, right? And if she wasn't weirded out, there was no reason for him to be! He reached out for her hand, and gave it a squeeze - only to take his hand back in haste as his towel almost slipped from his hips.

Quistis had gathered her clothing, and disappeared around the corner into her bedroom. Zell stared for a moment at the forlorn little pile of sopping wet laundry that was his shorts and boxers. He was really not looking forward to having that chilly mess sitting on his hips - although the cold might do something to fix the problem of the half-grown boner he was currently ignoring. Resigning himself to freezing, gross discomfort, Zell reached down and shook out his shorts -

"Here." Quistis' voice startled him into dropping the shorts back into the sink, where they splashed cold water onto his chest with a squelch. She was holding out an old pair of sweatpants as an offering, one eyebrow raised at Zell's apparent panic.

"They're pretty stretched out, so they might fit you," Quistis explained, with an almost-perfunctory glance at Zell's waist. "You'll have to, er, go... with just these," she finished lamely.

Zell seized the sweatpants with unbridled glee. "'S not like I never went commando in Garden before."

Quistis' eyes went momentarily wide before she said, firmly, "I really don't want to know."

Zell quickly dropped the towel and stepped into the pants, hoping to hide the evidence of his half-arousal from Quistis - he'd already had his turn! This was totally embarrassing - but she'd already turned away, saying over her shoulder, "Let me see if I have a shirt that might fit you."

The waistband of Quisty's sweats was a little tight, but her pants were both warm and clean - two things worth the discomfort in Zell's eyes. As he came around the corner, however, something in Quisty's room caught his eye - many somethings, in fact. Several rows of very small somethings, pockmarks across the wall: glaring blemishes in an otherwise pristine room. Zell's heart sank.

"Here," Quistis said, her head buried in her closet, "see if this one fits." A t-shirt came flying from out of nowhere and hit Zell in the upper arm; his reflexes kicked in, and he caught the shirt almost idly. His gaze swept the room, a sick feeling enveloping his stomach.

The words came out before he could really think about it: "Holy Alexander, Quisty, you're gonna be in so much trouble."

Quistis pulled her head out of the closet, her eyes narrowing. "And why is that?" she asked, a little sternly. "Does that shirt fit, or do you need something else?"

"Why?" Zell waved his empty hand at the bullet-holes from her Gatling Gun earlier. "Look at your walls! It's just like..." Stopping himself before he could finish off that sentence with "that time Seifer came by my room," he fumbled for a more appropriate metaphor. "Uh... like a Black Widow threw up bullets in here! We're gonna have to do somethin' about that before somebody sees it." He paused, pacing a little. "Right, so Ma's got some of that caulk stuff from the last time Rascal an' I wrecked the living room..."

"Zell." Quistis' voice was calm, normal - almost too normal. Zell noticed the somewhat stiff set to her shoulders as she turned back to the closet. "I'll just call Custodial."

"What?" Zell jumped. "No way, Quisty, you can't call them! Whenever I have to it blows! They always give me a real hard time, and then you have to fill out this really long form, and then they put it in your file -"

"It's alright." Her face was composed and blank as she threw another t-shirt onto the bed. "They've never caused me any problems. Here, why don't you try this one? I think it's larger."

"That sucks! Man, they always look at me like they're gonna - wait a sec." Zell took a step towards the closet, peering at Quistis, who seemed to be trying to avoid his gaze. "When did you have to deal with Custodial before?" Curiosity piqued, he took another step closer. "What'd you break?"

"It doesn't matter," Quistis snapped. She regretted it almost immediately, as she saw Zell peering at her intently from the corner of her eye. She straightened and tried to give him her best Instructor glare, but it wasn't working. Even a month ago, her cold attitude might have made Zell back down; but somewhere along the line - possibly when she'd had her hand down his pants - Zell had become immune. He'd slipped inside her defenses... a while ago, Quistis realized. Today's physical manifestation was really only the culmination.

"When we came back from Time Compression," she began slowly, noting the surprise on Zell's face as her voice dropped from harsh to soft, "I had - nightmares. I would dream about the battles - in the castle. Sometimes I'd wake myself up casting Blue Magic in my sleep." She glanced at her bed, chuckling wryly. "Do you remember that time the power was out for two days?"

"Yeah! That sucked - we couldn't use the TC the entire time, an' - wait."

Quistis blushed a little. "I shorted out the auxiliary power trying to turn off my alarm clock," she explained. "With Electrocute." She added sheepishly: "In my defense, at the time I thought it was Adel."

"No way." Zell's eyes were wide with surprise - and an unhealthy amount of admiration. Well, Quistis thought dimly to herself, at least I ended up with someone who's proud of what I do.

"Anyway," she continued, "Custodial got pretty used to coming in and having to fix what I'd done in my sleep." She shrugged, trying to keep her voice light. "I'll just tell them I had another nightmare."

Zell was looking at her with an almost unreadable expression on his face. Was this pity? Quistis' pride flared up, despite herself. She'd never told anyone about those nightmares, not at all: she hadn't wanted anyone to know just how badly she was dealing with the aftermath of that terrifying experience. Ultimecia's monsters had been terrifying, the witch herself even more so; but how could she possibly have told Squall - Mister Talk-To-A-Wall - that the memories alone were destroying her sleep? Squall would've ignored her - or, worse, taken her off of active duty.

"Quisty, we all had nightmares," Zell said, and she realized belatedly that the look on his face was understanding. "Seriously. That's actually how Selphie an' Irvine got together, right, 'cause Seffie blew a hole in the wall between their dorm rooms by accident. Irvine couldn't sleep without her for weeks, he was so scared she'd do it again. Even Squall had 'em. He didn't tell me though, Rinoa did." He paused. "Heck, Quisty, I had nightmares too. Why didn't you say something?"

Quistis blinked. 'None of you ever told me anything," she pointed out slowly.

"Well..." Zell tried to figure out how to put his previous opinion of Quistis Trepe into words that wouldn't hurt the Quisty he knew now. "We didn't think you were bothered by 'em, for starters. An' we didn't think you'd care."

Ah. A cold, murky feeling winged its way through her gut. She'd been so good at keeping her distance from her friends - from everyone, really. Quistis sighed. "Anyway," she said finally, "don't worry about the walls."

Zell gave her another odd look. "I wasn't worrying about the walls," he mumbled. Quistis stiffened as an awkward silence began to form. Then, in his typical, bumbling, almost accidental fashion, Zell punched through it, giving her a shy grin. "Kinda makes me feel better, though. Not your nightmares!" he quickly corrected, growing flush. "I mean, yeah, but not that way," he amended. He frowned, searching for words. "Knowing that you aren't always, y'know, Superwoman."

Zell paused and gave her another slow grin, the kind that sent a tendril of warmth into her soul, rooting itself like a stubborn weed and refusing to let the darkness sink in completely.

"Like maybe then I don't need to be Superman to be with you, either, 'cause hell knows I ain't," he added. The grin became a little broader - a little more. "...thanks," he finished honestly, looking a little embarrassed.

Superwoman? Well... that was one way to look at it, she supposed. Quistis sighed, mixed feelings of disappointment warring with pleasure. One thing was quickly becoming obvious: dealing with this relationship with Zell wasn't going to be easy. Tucking away her uncertainty for dissection at a later date, she focused instead on something that was easy - at least in comparison to her relentless thoughts.

"Anyway," she said with a sigh. "Will you please put a shirt on? Superman and Superwoman have something to do in Balamb this afternoon."