All Fujin can do is watch her.
Warnings: I'm no longer surprised by writing unsolicited femslash. Shojo-ai, and very short.
Notes: The Trepies are onto something. It never quite made sense that girls like Rinoa and Selphie got the guys while Quistis seemed to never get anything. And Fujin seems like the perfect person to fix that....well, eventually.
What She Has
Her legs are long and pale, smoothly perfect as she swings her booted feet back and forth through the railing of the bridge. It's a childish thing to do and you'd have never expected it from her, but you won't complain about it. Not when, in order to slide her legs through the rail, she'd had to hike her long skirt all the way up to her waist. It's too close to what you really want to see. Her in her knee high boots and nothing else.
But you're not picky, so you'll take whatever you can get, and this right here is what you've got.
Quistis Trepe at midnight, when there is no one else to see her. Sitting at the bridge leading from the elevator to the second floor, her legs glowing in the faint light and her face hidden against the hands that grip the rail tightly. And you, in the shadows fighting the urge to get closer just so you can see if she really wears anything under her skirt.
You have no excuse for it. Instructors are exempt from the usual rules the Disciplinary Committee enforce, and you can't claim you mistook her for a student anymore. She'd been surprised when you proved to her how much better you saw with just one eye than most saw with two, and you'd foolishly played up on it wanting to see more of her pleased smiles.
There is no excuse that will let you walk out to her except the truth; and there are plenty of excuses, plenty of rules, for why she will pretend to not hear your truth. Then she'd walk away, her skirt modestly pulled back down, and you would never get another chance to see her like this.
So this is what you have, a pretty woman unaware that she is putting herself on display for you; and yourself in the shadows, unsure how to approach. It's a stalemate that lasts until she gathers herself together and leaves you with your pounding heart.