A/N: I've been wanted forever to get this fic out from my system and into the open. Finally with the undivided help of my muse and Bert I can do just that. I just hope it goes the way I plan it too and doesn't get to angsty. Comments are greatly appreciated and suggestions never hurt either. I plan on making this pretty long. So it is by no means a one-shot. POV's may switch in later chapters.

Warning: This takes one with some life experience to appreciate, someone who can let their mind wonder and not say…well that isn't possible. Even if your not just read the damn thing and see what I mean. Don't mind the confusion things will be cleared up later on. This has disturbing content so please if you faint of heart go no further.

Reminder: I am a Seifer/ Squall shippy all the way! So naturally the story is focused around them. That alone should tell you my hormones are going off the scales so expect so heavy lemons in the future. I was tired of reading stories about Seifer getting saved by Squall so I'm turning tables.

Leonhartless

Chapter 1

By leannan

Through the gloom of the evening a pair of gray dusky eyes watched in complete stillness, obscured beneath the shadows of the corner he felt he was hidden behind. His face failed to give way to his thoughts as he concealed it behind a mask of resentfulness while his mind was enraptured into his own void. His void where no one and nothing could penetrate past. An isolated sanctum he ran to frantically whenever he started drowning in the shrill truth of reality. That or if he was too deep to breathe anymore. Life had always been his downfall, so he sought restoration from it in order to survive a little longer into its labyrinth. Only now it had gotten to the point of no return. He was always hiding from it, the mask slowly molding onto the grim lines of his frown. His eyes the only thing barely alive even with their tinge of bleakness swimming in them.

Tilting his head up toward the sky with streams of sanguine colored clouds smeared across it, cloaking the sun’s rays he sighed. The cerise pool of light glistening off his creamy skin glinting off the metallic of his necklace Griever. Creating wine red globes glimmering in those orbs that use to hold so much life. Now they seethed with restrained disdain and loathe. His eyes so distant and detached from him it seemed he was just an illusion. But in their stormy depths swirling and clashing with the crimson of the peace-less sunset they screamed ‘ let me break let me fall.’

They dilated, the blackness glazing over his pupils, consuming the life that resided there like it was nothing but an incessant pit. Reaching desperation he’d plead with anyone who dared intervene with his path to see past adamant barriers of despair to high to climb over and too far to journey around. He’d tired numerous times only to lose his grasp and slide down the rocky incline back to the hell hole they banished him to.  Whenever he caught those curious glances bearing into his back he didn’t hesitate to show them what lie behind his stoic mask. But finding out it was in vain…for the mask was his face. He silently plead with them all hoping perhaps one of those mindless zombies could release him from…himself.

Locked away in his own void he heard his deafening screams, but they couldn’t because it was the other side of him trapped behind the unbreakable mask. But it was too risky to even consider breaking it… it would break him as well in the process.

He knew this because a wound was already welted across his heart, just like the scar between his eyes. All the unsaid fears and unshed tears seeped through the rigid crevasses of these wounds, drowning him in a pool of his own grief.

They did it. What his friends didn’t realize or want to realize was while they were busy trying to crack him mercilessly out of his shell for their own greedy reasons was that he was his shell. So when they cracked it…the splinters drove themselves into his soul, piercing and gorging out his insides, scarring him in a way his body never was or could be.

Reminiscing in the feeling of losing yourself slowly knowing the timer was running out and still trudging along the spilled river of blood that leaked from his own heart, his body shivered. His muscles convulsing in the sickening impact it had and still held on him. His stomach twisting and coiling around like a pole had been rammed into his gut he felt the overwhelming nausea creeping up on him. The acrid bile slinking into the back of his throat burning and blistering the flesh it slid upon. His trembling arms wrapped his jacket closer to his body for security he knew he wouldn’t receive.

 And they called themselves friends…

Just at the thought of it the constricting in his chest tightened. What was that that stung at cruel memories from the past…his heart? Ha, he didn’t think he had one of them still. It must have been a mistake because he didn’t. He was Leonhartless. The Leonhartless doesn’t feel, doesn’t care. The Leonhartless doesn’t fear.

Then what was he? Nothing right now cowering in the dim corner of Garden’s rooftop where the shadows frolicked heedlessly at night and swung on the tendrils of the moon’s silver hairs. Cowering and hiding like a coward. But only when no prying eyes where watching. None of them suspected that he, slayer of the Sorceress, SeeD commander, Hero, Squall Leonhart would ever be anything but those things. Never stopped to think that he had always been a coward forced to take the act of a Hero. But they couldn’t accept that truth… just like they couldn’t accept the real him, so they made it their duty to change him. He hoped they were satisfied now, happy with this simulated him, because he sure as hell wasn’t. 

His long lashes brushed against the creamy skin of his cheekbones as his eyes drifted shut. His heavy head resting against the rough wall that scratched his back through the material of his thin jacket. It was then for the first time since the fall of Ultimecia he remembered how lonely he really was. He felt his skin crawl back and shrink away from the conclusion. He let it too. No matter how many people surrounded him, suffocated him with their presence, no matter how much they pledged their sincerity he knew he’d always be alone.

Until now he’d held himself together perfectly. Not one piece out of place to the ignorant eyes. He’d done it so they wouldn’t have to suffer what he did. Look at where it got him. Instead of shedding himself of his burden he was carrying the weight of everyone’s one on his back, the weight was too much for his fragile frame, naturally he was stumbling one step at a time waiting for the final downfall.

Timidly he peered up admiring the sun setting in the horizon. He almost smiled as the creams of crushed rose petals raining from the orange streaked sky etching over the crests of the foamy lucid waves. But hopelessness was what shone bright in those pallid eyes. As he was reminded of his fate. And it wasn’t nearly as beautiful as this breath-taking picture.

Sympathetically the wind whispered condolences against his ear and a stray lock of honey silk hair flickered in front of his eyes. Falling limp across the bridge of his nose softly. The light breeze caressed his sensitive flesh like gentle fingertips raking through his tousled tresses. Closing his eyes his spirits sank. He was so weak. It was life that made him this way. And for that he resented it with ever fiber that was still alive in his soul, as well as his own existence.

He hugged the knees pushed up against his convulsing chest, curling in as tight a fetal position as possible. Tucking himself away in the confines of his own asylum. He gritted his teeth flexing his jaw muscle clamped shut. Squeezing his eyes together as his lungs strangled on the thick grief he breathed in the air.

Hushed by the angst as it lulled him to deranged peace he prayed. Just perhaps someone would take mercy on him and answer his wish. But no matter how many restless nights he spent alone trying to disappear, he was still here…in flesh and cold blood.

Swallowing the uneasiness down his throat he stood straight. Gathering his courage before ambling back at a wistful pace inside to the warmth of his room in Garden. Stealing one last glance at the beautiful sunset over his shoulder. He never appreciated it before…but things change when your not sure if today is your last if this would be the last time he could stare up at the melting pot of colors and lose himself in it. The only sound heard after that was the clicking of his boots against the floor through the night fallen sky.

To be continued….

(A/N: Oh wow that feels so much better. I have a bit of the burden lifted. Laziness really takes its toll on me! That and the fact that I’m a walking bruise, thank Bert for that! Maybe that’s why I haven’t posted in a while.

Duo: Only because I came to the rescue doll face!

(A/N: Everyone already has a Seifer or Squall muse so I’ll just use another one. My little bishie Duo…he’s the really really hot one from Gundam Wing with a sense of humor.

leannan: Ha only because now you’re taking the beating for me! And I told you don’t call me doll face!

Duo: Hnn! Are you saying that you don’t want me anymore? * puppy eyes *

leannan: (signs) No Duo my little baka you’re the other love of my life next to rusty butter knifes.

Duo: um…yea causes I was bout ta say if you didn’t want me then you shouldn’t have adopted me you freak! Why don’t’ you just open up a frickin’ orphanage you have so many muses and…creatures hanging all over you!

Leannan: (ponders about cheese…)

Duo: Hey I’m talking to you over here! I said…EKKK HELP ME!!

leannan: (snaps out of trance) Bert you put that butter knife down now! Bert don’t make me…OUCH!! Well hope ya’ll enjoyed the story see ya in the next chapter.

~~leannan~~

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