concoursec

Characters: Irvine Kinneas (

gunite) and Quistis Trepe (

whiplashings)
Location: Lobby → B208
Rating: PG
Open/Closed/Finished: Closed
Summary: Following an offer over the BBS, Irvine and Quistis take a walk.

Irvine barely gave the monitor a second glance as he left the room in relative haste. He wouldn't risk being late: He'd been the one to arrange the meeting, after all, and it was rude to make a lady wait. He would arrive first.

Despite this his strides, to say the least, appeared casual. Sauntering down the lobby his thoughts traveled to what recent happenings he'd been informed about. At the same time, what Quistis had told him about having "a bit on her mind" gave him something else to ponder. The bulletin board had been too public a place to go deeper into the matter, so he would venture further in person. Irvine wasn't one to pry -- he simply wanted to make sure. If all was well, he would enjoy a walk with a fine woman; if all wasn't, he would respond accordingly.

This was precisely why he came to a stop when he neared the front of the lobby.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Not yet." He slipped in after her. "Of the gang, you're the first."

Irvine supposed this made the interaction between them that much more significant. He'd decided to give her priority, and with what he decided was good reason. So there he stood by her, looking straight ahead at the door as the elevator headed to the upper floor. As expected, it didn't take very long.

That little piece of information earned him a smile. As the doors slid open to allow them access to the second floor, Quistis made to exit the elevator compartment, knowing that Irvine needed no indication to follow her.

"The first? I'm flattered." Though the words were said with a small hint of teasing, Quistis really was warmed to know that he had put her at the top of his priorities. It was strange, and perhaps the first time that she had ever been in such a position-- she was so used to being pushed aside, having to deal with her problems on her own because no one ever bothered to give her a lending ear. A new appreciation for the cowboy stemmed inside her.

They neared her dorm room, and with a quick swipe of her keycard, the door slid open with a small 'swish'.

"Make yourself at home." It wasn't much-- a modest-sized room with a bed to one side, a desk and bookshelf to the other.

Quick to oblige, he headed to the desk and leaned against its edge with his arms crossed, in a similar fashion to how he'd positioned himself back in Trabia Garden. The room was like how Irvine had envisioned it: Bland and without grandiose extravagances. As a result, one glance over was more than enough to take in the room as a whole; which, on second thought, felt rather cozy in its roomy way.

"Nice place," he drawled with a characteristic wave. He crossed one leg over the other, relaxed, then continued to speak as he normally did.

"So, this nightmare . . . It's been haunting you for almost two weeks?"

A smile quirked her lips at the compliment of the room. "Please, I've done none of the interior decorating-- you should be complimenting the Garden staff." She said with a small wave of her hand.

As Irvine leaned against her desk, Quistis promptly took a seat on the bed, ankles crossing and hands folding over her lap. It took a moment for her to relax the default rigid posture, and when her shoulders finally sunk a fraction of an inch, the obvious fatigue of her body resurfaced.

"Yes-- it started just at the beginning of the month, and it hasn't let up yet. It's always been the same dream; it's gotten to the point where I just dread going to sleep, and try to avoid it. I don't know how many hours I've been up."

Irvine, for his part, listened with his gaze to the floor. He'd noticed how tired Quistis looked. He didn't need to look again, at least for a while.

"You know that's not good for your health." His tone was far from condescending or chastising, but even. Irvine couldn't blame her for trying to skip out on sleep when it was clear the experience would be an unpleasant one. And though it was indeed unhealthy to stay awake for hours, even days, at a time, it wasn't any better if resting itself caused problems.

"You're going to have to sleep at some point."

Quistis couldn't help but give a small sigh at Irvine's words. She was well aware that sleep was required to keep a body fully functional, but the thought of the nightmares resurfacing... she was willing to remain a zombie for a little while longer.

"I know-- I'm hoping that I'll tire myself out enough that I'll just fall into a dreamless slumber. I haven't tried it out yet, though." There was a slightly wry smile.

She lowered her eyes then, fingers gently tugging and twisting the blanket she sat on. She debated telling him the contents of her dream-- would that even do any good? Voicing her concerns, even though she knew it was all just a dream, no matter how realistic it felt? Deciding to bite the bullet, Quistis' voice was soft when she finally spoke.

"In my dreams, I watched all of you die."

"At the rate you're going, you'll be trying it out sooner than later."

Although he had up until this point maintained his position, his posture subtly changed when he heard Quistis' next words. Short but to the point, the conciseness of her explanation allowed the revelation to sink in quickly. He had expected something intense, something potent enough to force sleep out of the woman, but he had childishly not considered death. If he had been willing before, Irvine then didn't want to try fathoming what she'd experienced.

He looked up. For now, he would offer simple assurance.

"The dreams are lying. I'm alive." He hastily added, "We're alive."

She couldn't help the sigh that exhaled past her lips, but at Irvine's affirmation of his state of being, Quistis looked up and gave the cowboy a small smile. Having him back and seeing him in the flesh definitely helped keep the fear of her nightmares at bay.

"I know-- it's silly for me to get so worked up over a nightmare, but it just felt so real. It almost feels like I'm being thrown through the Time Compression again; one scene happens, then the world seems to tilt and I'm somewhere else. It's just very... unsettling. But hopefully they'll stop in due time."

"They will," assured Irvine. For a good measure he added in a wave of his right arm as he was prone to doing. Then his left arm dropped to the side, followed by his right, until the palms of his hands rested against the desk's edge. He put on a mild, encouraging smile, meant to be more tender than his usually severe grins.

"It's unsettling. But they will."

It was exactly like the Time Compression, he thought. The startling experience had come and gone and the nightmares, too, would surely fade with time.

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