Final Fantasy VIII Coming Down

Quistis shook her head in dismay while marking another incorrect answer on a student's exam. The young instructor wondered if she was going about teaching this subject in the entirely wrong fashion. After being suspended from teaching for a long period of time, then all the issues she volunteered to assist with in the post-sorceress recovery, teaching was a passion she had completely lost touch with.

The other body occupying the room was another, incredibly potent, distraction.

Instructor Trepe added the paper in her grasp to the already graded stack on the makeshift desk she was utilizing. A soft snore interrupted the serene silence of her staff dormitory room.

Quistis shook her head as a condescending action against herself, thinking about agreeing to baby-sit Rinoa for Squall while he was away playing Commander in Chief. Despite the increased workload on her plate, and no matter how 'over' Squall she fancied herself, she remained incapable of turning down any favors or assistance he might ask of her. So naturally, when Rinoa came down with the seasonal case of influenza that spread amongst the students of Balamb Garden faster than the juiciest gossip Quistis ever managed to overhear, she silently hoped the recent spike in test failures was due to students feeling too under the weather to pay attention and take proper notes. The flu's onset certainly explained Rinoa's withdrawn attitude the last few days.

Squall's girlfriend moaned and tossed her head to the side while engulfed in a fitful sleep. Quistis resigned herself to being a better care provider. She had agreed to watch over Rinoa, and when Quistis did something, she did it right. After removing her reading glasses, she scooted her chair closer to her bedside she allowed Rinoa to occupate. More accurately, she did not put her foot down when Squall led the sickly young woman to her bed and laid her down. Quistis thought about how germ-infested her sheets must be now. It would take divine intervention to save her from catching the flu.

Strangely enough, Quistis felt indifferent about it. Instead of worrying about something that may or may not happen, she focused her attention in tending to Rinoa's needs. She withdrew the folded washcloth from Rinoa's forehead. With her free hand, she pressed the flat of her palm against the smooth plane of Rinoa's forehead. As anticipated, the fever had not yet broken. Rinoa's typically porcelain skin was tinged with a pinkish hue. The obvious fever did not subtract any amount of Rinoa's beauty. It only served to remind Quistis that she was human.

Perhaps the realization that his angel was mere flesh and bone like the rest of them was what put Squall in such a frenzy. He was just as agitated as that time, so long ago, when they thought she might never awaken.

Quistis departed from Rinoa's side long enough to rinse the washcloth out and saturate it in refreshing, cool water. She did not look around her pristine bathroom, did not try picking out the crow's feet around her eyes in the mirror, and she did not scorn herself for leaving a towel on the floor instead of hanging it on the rack. She did not even intentionally disregard these habits of hers; it was as if her duty as caretaker changed her mentality completely.

Upon returning to her bedroom, she saw her patient was now awake. Rinoa was vibrant as ever, given her current condition. Her chocolate eyes beamed weakly when she recognized Quistis. The instructor could not help the satisfaction that blossomed in her chest. She wondered if she was desperate for attention. She must be, feeling a flutter in her chest at Rinoa's grateful half-smile.

She advanced upon the bedside and gently placed the cool washcloth against Rinoa's burning forehead.

"Feels good," Rinoa made her best effort at a contented sigh. "I know you're just doing this to help Squall, but thanks."

"Don't be ridiculous," Quistis retorted unconvincingly. "Why would I do Squall a favor I didn't want to do?"

Rinoa looked up at the cross-armed instructor looming over her. She released a phlegm-filled giggle. "You two are so much alike, it kills me."

"Whatever," Quistis answered in spite of herself. She returned to the chair she was previously occupying and arranged it so that her right leg was adjacent to the bedside. The instructor crossed her legs and watched Rinoa, full of mirth at her expense.

"For the record," Rinoa began when she was done laughing. "I did tell Squall this was a silly idea. I've just got a slight cold and the flu... it's not like I'm dying or anything."

Quistis reached to her nightstand and grabbed a book she'd already read front to back countless times. More for a distraction than actual reading material, she flipped open the pages. "He worries about you. Nothing wrong with that."

"I wish Squall was more like you."

Quistis arched an eyebrow and looked at Rinoa. She wondered if she should put her reading glasses back on to make it look like she really was reading. "You were just going on about how similar we are."

"Well you are, in a lot of ways." Rinoa snuggled down into Quistis' sheets. "But you're a little more vocal than Squall. Not really about your feelings, but about helping others, and being a good role model to the younger students. You care a lot about not only your image, but the school's, too. Squall goes on pretending he doesn't care about anything, and only acts on something if he is pressured into it."

"You act as though that is a bad thing."

"It is," Rinoa huffed. "He makes me feel guilty for trying to motivate him into trying new things."

"What are we talking about, exactly?" Quistis could not help the suggestive tone in her voice.

The insinuation was not lost on Rinoa. The sick teenager winked a large, brown eye. "We can talk girl talk to pass the time, if you'd like."

Quistis grunted and turn her gaze back to the book in her lap. "I doubt I would have much to offer for that topic."

Rinoa fiddled with the edge of Quistis' comforter. Her pale skin contrasted with the deep burgundy sheets of the instructor's bed. Quistis' eyes followed the outline of Rinoa's body. It was shameful for such a free-spirited young woman to be confined to bed like a prison, even if it were only for a few days.

Noticing Quistis' roaming eyes, Rinoa cleared her throat. The instructor shook her head, snapping out of a strange daze. For some reason the book diversion was not working today. She briefly considered brewing a pot of coffee. Her inability to focus could easily be due to the restless sleep she suffered from the night before. Or maybe she was coming down with the flu herself.

"Quistis... aren't you lonely?"

The instructor did not reward Rinoa with a response. Trying a different approach, Rinoa returned to the 'girl talk' angle. "I'm the first person besides you who's been in this bed, aren't I?"

Quistis thought she was going to choke on her own tongue. "I think I hear the cold suppressants talking. I told Squall no more than two tablespoons."

Rinoa scooted over in the bed, pressing herself against the adjacent wall. After poorly concealing a bad case of the chills, she patted the empty space beside herself, inviting Quistis to crawl in bed next to her.

Quistis was befuddled. She silently wondered why she even had a queen size bed when she was a sound sleeper who took little bed space. Of course, she reasoned, it must be to invite awkward situations such as this one. Her inner dialogue was interrupted by her patient. "Then let's celebrate by cuddling."

"Absolutely not."

"Please? I always feel better when I have someone to cuddle with. You should try it sometime."

"You are a germ bag."

Rinoa coughed before fending off another case of the chills. "Please?"

"Go back to sleep," Quistis grumbled. She stood back up, readying herself to leave and go make that pot of coffee. She could not recall feeling so disoriented before today.

"I will if you lay down next to me."

"Oh, for the love of-" Quistis muttered before she found herself crawling into her bed. The mattress below her was warm, thanks to Rinoa's body. She filled the indent left in the mattress. Settling into bed beside another body, surrendering all personal space and comfort for a separate, but no less potent, sensation, unnerved her. Even worse was Rinoa, sidling up against her like she was supposed to be acting as a personal teddy bear. Quistis considered charging Squall for having to put up with this behavior, but something about the way Rinoa's arms wrapped tightly around her waist made Quistis want to keep this incident between the two of them.

"Happy now?"

"You're so tense, Quistis. Calm down. What do you think I'm gonna do, exactly?"

"Besides give me influenza?"

"Besides that," Rinoa smiled. She snuggled her face against the crook of Quistis' neck. The blond began experiencing the chills too, but refused to admit to herself they could be for any reason besides illness. Heat radiated from Rinoa's burning body. Quistis felt uncomfortably warm.

"I suppose I'm already coming down with the flu."

"I suppose you are," Rinoa replied tiredly. She yawned in Quistis' ear. The expulsion of breath made Qusitis' skin horripilate. The instructor tried shifting further away, but Rinoa had a vice-grip on her midsection.

"Ready to sleep now?" Quistis grabbed the washcloth that had slipped from Rinoa's forehead to her pillow. This job had become much harder after Rinoa woke up from her long nap.

"Mmhmm." Rinoa's eyes danced beneath her closed eyelids. Quistis studied Rinoa's pale lips differently than she used to. Whenever Quistis saw Rinoa and Squall together, which was every single occasion except for today, she often tortured herself with curiosity, wondering how it would feel to be the one kissing Squall. Rinoa's lips were a thing of envy for her. Smiling for him, kissing him, caressing him. Quistis could get lost in the potential of Rinoa's alluring mouth, imagining how delicious Squall's lips must taste to them.

Quistis felt her eyes drawn to Rinoa's mouth as usual. Instead of pondering the silky smoothness of Squall's lips against them, a different curiosity filled her. She saw Rinoa for who she was: not as a partner to the man she had spent years trying to get over, but as an attractive, fun young woman who never ceased to surprise her. A compulsion overtook the instructor. As Rinoa lightly snored, she leaned closer to her face. The pungent aroma of cough syrup and a musk Quistis did not recognize saturated her senses.

She almost awakened Rinoa to ask how she smelled: like coffee, or shampoo, or leather? But as Rinoa slept, and began looking more and more like the angel everyone perceived her to be, Quistis could not justify awakening her to ask such a juvenile question. Instead, she inched her face close enough so the tips of their noses touched.

Rinoa, now in a deep, mending slumber, remained undisturbed. Quistis felt the small gust of air escaping between Rinoa's lips as she tried breathing. She wanted nothing more than to capture and taste it, keeping something of Rinoa for her very own.

Quistis caved into her sudden, unexplainable desire. After acquiescing to Rinoa's physical presence, and finding after a few minutes that Rinoa was right—the sensation was comforting and healing—she thought Rinoa could be right about other things, too. She was too much like Squall. She went out of her way to aid others without doing enough to keep herself happy. And maybe she really was lonely.

Lonely enough to consider kissing someone she swore she'd never felt physically attracted to before today.

Quistis pressed her lips against Rinoa's. They were warm and soft, and more tempting than she thought a sleeping person's kiss could be. The taste was as she expected—cough syrup, but with a touch of an indiscernible musk. She formed her lips against Rinoa's mouth as hard as she dared before desire gave way to prudence. Before she withdrew herself from the kiss, the body beside her pressed closer into hers.

"I must be coming down with something," Quistis whispered to herself before diving in for another kiss.


End file.
