Categories > Games > Final Fantasy 8 > Fated Children
Chapter Twelve - The Raine In Spain Falls Gently on the Plains
0 reviewsLaguna dreams of dark haired angels and wonders where Kiros has gotten off to . . .
0Unrated
So, it's apparently my stupid dumb luck to almost get myself killed. I swear. Somebody up there hates me with this fiery, immortal passion and they're all conspiring to have me keel over dead at any second.
I wake up, sore and a little fuzzy, staring at the ceiling of a house I've never been in and listening to somebody talk with a couple of other people. Beneath me. Second story. I'd gotten up, but my head is throbbing and my mouth tastes like I've swallowed half the ocean and then puked it back up, and I'm wondering how much I had drunk and where's Kiros?
A door opens. Somebody with a cold compress is sitting beside me, talking quietly. A woman. Julia? No, she wouldn't bother with a cold compress, at least not handling it. She'd just sit on the bed with me, and hum something and hold my and . . . no, really: Where's Kiros? None of this is making any sense, and if he'd just show up I could ask him what the hell was going on.
I stop looking at the ceiling. Everything is really blurry though. This woman, when she got all clear, she looks like an /angel/, with dark hair and dark eyes and really pale skin. I just stare at her for a second.
She's really pretty.
And I wonder where Kiros is, because if he isn't around and he finds out I was spending time with girls than he's gonna to throw a fucking /fit/. You'd think I was cheating on him.
"How are you feeling?" the woman asks. She has a really pretty voice, but she's definitely not Julia. Her voice is deeper than Julia's, carries more weigh. Feels better. I smile at her and I'm sure I look like a dope. But she's really pretty.
She asks again, "How are you feeling?" and I want to tell her that I feel like I got eaten by a Blue Dragon and then shit onto a pile of rocks, but my mouth doesn't seem to like those words.
So what I end up saying is mostly just inane babble, and I manage to get out my name. She stares at me like I'm some sort of retard for a second, then sighs. She leaves the cold compress on my forehead and leaves the room.
Later-minutes, hours, days, years, I don't know-she comes back and asks me if I can write. Of course I can. I'm a writer. I want to tell her that, but I don't think she'll be impressed. She gives me the paper, and there is her handwriting-it's even more chicken-scratch than Ward's-and it's a list of things she wants to know.
My name, where I'm from, why I'm here. I don't think I can write. Everything just kind of falls apart for a minute, and I can't remember a lot of crap, and I figure: that's why my head hurts. I hit it.
Where are the fairies now? They'd help me remember. They make me strong. They could make me smile for the girl, and help me find Kiros.
She's really pretty and dark, and I wish I knew what her name was, but it doesn't really matter. She reminds me of rain in the dark.
I wake up, sore and a little fuzzy, staring at the ceiling of a house I've never been in and listening to somebody talk with a couple of other people. Beneath me. Second story. I'd gotten up, but my head is throbbing and my mouth tastes like I've swallowed half the ocean and then puked it back up, and I'm wondering how much I had drunk and where's Kiros?
A door opens. Somebody with a cold compress is sitting beside me, talking quietly. A woman. Julia? No, she wouldn't bother with a cold compress, at least not handling it. She'd just sit on the bed with me, and hum something and hold my and . . . no, really: Where's Kiros? None of this is making any sense, and if he'd just show up I could ask him what the hell was going on.
I stop looking at the ceiling. Everything is really blurry though. This woman, when she got all clear, she looks like an /angel/, with dark hair and dark eyes and really pale skin. I just stare at her for a second.
She's really pretty.
And I wonder where Kiros is, because if he isn't around and he finds out I was spending time with girls than he's gonna to throw a fucking /fit/. You'd think I was cheating on him.
"How are you feeling?" the woman asks. She has a really pretty voice, but she's definitely not Julia. Her voice is deeper than Julia's, carries more weigh. Feels better. I smile at her and I'm sure I look like a dope. But she's really pretty.
She asks again, "How are you feeling?" and I want to tell her that I feel like I got eaten by a Blue Dragon and then shit onto a pile of rocks, but my mouth doesn't seem to like those words.
So what I end up saying is mostly just inane babble, and I manage to get out my name. She stares at me like I'm some sort of retard for a second, then sighs. She leaves the cold compress on my forehead and leaves the room.
Later-minutes, hours, days, years, I don't know-she comes back and asks me if I can write. Of course I can. I'm a writer. I want to tell her that, but I don't think she'll be impressed. She gives me the paper, and there is her handwriting-it's even more chicken-scratch than Ward's-and it's a list of things she wants to know.
My name, where I'm from, why I'm here. I don't think I can write. Everything just kind of falls apart for a minute, and I can't remember a lot of crap, and I figure: that's why my head hurts. I hit it.
Where are the fairies now? They'd help me remember. They make me strong. They could make me smile for the girl, and help me find Kiros.
She's really pretty and dark, and I wish I knew what her name was, but it doesn't really matter. She reminds me of rain in the dark.
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