AN: Another short, angsty one from me. Sometimes I just can't help it. Not my characters, as always.

Sometimes, like now, I can almost believe he loves me. Other times, I know I'm just a substitute; I'll never really have his affections. Though he gives me as much of himself as he has left. Zexion took his heart, when he died. Ok, I know we don't have hearts, but let me have my poetic imagery here. Zexion took what passed for Demyx's heart, then, and now I'm left with the empty shell.

Then again, I'm not a great deal more than that. Roxas was my love, my life, my soulmate. And now he's gone, too, and I lost my reasons for living (ok, I know – existing).

So Demyx and I do what we can for each other. Most of the time, that's just sex – rough and fast – a purely physical need, to prove we can still feel something. At other times, like now, he just wants to be held.

His hands tangle in my hair, as unruly as ever, and he lifts my face up to his. If we both keep our eyes closed, we can pretend. I know that we both do.

He'll never be Roxas, and I'll never be Zexion, but that's ok. We'll just pretend.

AN: Reviews? Please? Or I'll get Axel to set you on fire...