A/N: I'm into character death for the moment. Reviews are lovely and I do have a picture for this in my deviantart. If you wanna see it, it's on my profile.
Warnings: Character Death
Any mistakes, let me know. And review :)
L is for the way you lust for him.
You are constantly in the darkness, in this mausoleum of nothing. The blackness shades your eyes like death. Those pretty green eyes that have a dull shine of venom. They are growing darker with each passing fake heart wrenching mother fucking useless day. That's why when you first meet him you're confused.
You shake your head with some mingled twinge that you cannot explain. When you first see him, your chest clenches and feels as if someone has hit you with a sharp blunt object.
You mistake this for a sexual desire, and you know that you want this boy.
This boy with the bright ocean eyes and straw colored hair, this boy that makes your chest ache. You, the crazed pyromaniac, want this small boy underneath you. Writhing with ecstasy and gorgeous pale body arched towards the ceiling. You shake your head, blood colored tendrils swaying around your pointed face and you play with your leather gloves with a fake feeling akin to nervousness. You want to meet him and be with him forever; be with him in a tangled mass of pillows and a wave of sheets. You want to be with him forever; or as long as your life as a nobody is. If it's even considered a life at all. The darkness seems to draw away from you now, and not swallowing you whole and letting your broad chest cave in.
No.
Something else has taken its place. Taken the place of the nothing and is now considered something. He is your substance, your something.
O is for how obsessed you are, with him
His name is Roxas and is the Superiors favorite. He is light and casts shadows all around your room when he walks. You always watch him with a hungry look in those grass green eyes. He asks what exactly you're staring at or what's on your thoughts. You don't ever answer.
Silly flamer, you know better.
He's not you property and he will never be your property. Or so you think. Mind your time you fire happy freak, for he'll come around and love you with everything he has to offer. This is of course, nothing.
But nothing is what you're willing to take, because nothing is actually in the form of something now. You're still slightly confused and your chest swells every time he does smile. Because yes, we do have hearts, as Demyx always likes to point out.
And you have given Roxas yours.
He just doesn't seem to know it.
The small boy with the blonde spiky hair has your heart and he doesn't even fuckin' know it. It befuddles you how obsessed you have become with him. Everywhere he goes in this forsaken castle, there you are waiting. Waiting with your arms crossed over you chest and blinking ever so slowly.
But the worst, oh the worst is when he says your name.
This is more often then not.
It rolls off his pretty pink tongue in pleasure and ease as he stares up at you with large piercing blue eyes. It's usually in a question form; your name with a question mark at the end.
It's almost to see if you're truly real.
V is very, very extra accidental
You don't ever touch him. Be honest now.
You know that you've wanted to all along, ever since he came to the organization almost a year ago. The way your hand would lightly brush his in the halls, when you were each walking back to your own rooms respectively. Whenever you would protect him in battle and cover his small frame with your entire lanky body. His breath in your ear, mingling with your hair with a taste of seduction and hint of peppermint. That's why when he starts asking you odd questions about how you feel about him, you scoff and laugh it off. Because you remember, nobodies cannot feel – cannot love.
You don't tell him this though.
Don't tell him your unpleasant thoughts and how you think about him more and more each day. Then become puzzled when he isn't at your side any longer. You get into a heated argument, and anyone that would walk by would think that each of you had a heart ready to burst. Tears are streaming down his face and he's shaking his head; screaming at the top of his lungs how you don't understand him.
How you don't know him.
And that you don't love him.
Your brow furrows at this confession and his face becomes solemn, because he has now admitted something to you that you never would have guessed. He tells you that when you both first met, his chest wanted to cave in and he was quite confused. He mistook this for lust.
His blue eyes met your green and now he's walking towards you, hood off and face pale. He bites his lip and stands on his toes to wrap his arms around your neck like ribbon on a Christmas present. You swallow hard and try to pull away because you know what could become of all of this.
His lips touch yours and you don't remember much after that.
But you do find that he likes to sit on your lap, cloak unzipped and boots somewhere around your room. He likes to kiss and bite your shoulders with surprisingly sharp teeth. He whispers your name, whispers it like you dreamed when jacking off late at night in your bed.
He grinds against you and tells you everything.
Everything.
Because when you're finally inside him and he hisses with pain and tears prickle his eyes you kiss them away.
He shines of light in your room, casting shadows on your face.
And this is when you finally realize that he will leave you in the dark.
E is for every time he broke your heart.
You scream.
It isn't normal for you, because it's a blood curdling scream.
It's like you're a monster and the fire that creeps around your ankles is only the beginning of what you've truly become. You knew it.
It crawled down you're spine the moment you first kissed the blue eyed angel. Except, you're not sure if he's an angel anymore.
If you had a heart, it would be crumbled in his hands because he smashed it on the floor, then stepped on it just for good measure. The flames tickle your face as you run down the hallways, calling forth a portal that you are all too familiar with. The darkness that curls around you is warm and comforting, and you knew that he would leave you in it.
He's leaving.
Leaving because he has questions that there are very few answers.
And he's gone to find his other and well – you just can't fucking accept that.
You find him and ask him why he's leaving, why is he leaving you?
To find answers, he tells you, to find why the keyblade appeared in his hand.
But, that just doesn't sit right with you.
You tell him how much you love him as you walk towards him and he calls forth both keyblades. One is bright white and shines like the sun that has never been in this town. The other, well the other just oozes darkness just like you. You're truly pathetic.
Rage covers your features as you call forth your heated flame red chakrams and rush towards him.
He's always been a better fighter than you ever could be.
He's always been better at everything.
But, you were the one to overflow with love and handed him your glass heart.
Idiot.
You both dance around the other, metal clinking and sparkling in the down pour of rain. His bright as light keyblade dances across the pavement as you flick it out of his hands.
Small bodies with beady yellow eyes pop up every now and then to see what the commotion is, but quickly lose interest. They quickly loose interest because both of you have non existent hearts.
But as you jump behind the blond and thrust your spiked chakram through his small frame you wonder if that's the case. Because he's frozen.
You walk around to see his expression and see pain and agony written deep within his features. You give him a bloody kiss and shove another spike deep into his stomach.
Your green eyes have tears and his blood has splattered on your face.
You press your sweaty forehead against his, and the red spikes from your head mix with pasty blonde. You can't believe that he left you in the dark. But you lean in anyway and whisper sweet nothings into your lovers' ear as the shine recedes from his deep blue eyes that you honestly fucking believed you fell in love with.
You push the spike farther into his stomach, making him cough up blood. It's gushing out of his chest in beats and you become confused once again. He finally lets his darkened keyblade fall helplessly to the ground, clinking against wet pavement.
As he pulls in his last breath you lean in and kiss his ear gently and whisper above the roaring rain.
Love is all that I can give to you
Love is more than just a game for two
Two in love can make it
Take my heart and please don't break it
Love was made for me and you