Naminé is a beautiful girl, inside and out. There is so much potential in her, but she is often shoved by the wayside. I love her. I am going to explore her.
Pieces will usually be short. They may be AU or set during the KH timelines. Universe will be noted at the beginning of each section. Pairings will be various but may likely include Naminé with Marluxia, Roxas, Axel, or Kairi. Ratings will vary.
White Flame -1- (AU)
Naminé is nineteen. She's standing in front of a mirror, wearing a long white dress. She's going to marry the man that she loves. She is going to marry Marluxia.
Her relatives fussed around her for hours, making sure her hair looked perfect and her makeup looked perfect and she wonders if her life looks perfect. Marrying a rich man who comes from a distinguished background and has a well-paying job at such a young age. They're young, but they're happy. Well, she's young; he's twenty-eight, but that's still young, isn't it? At heart. At soul.
She likes to pretend he isn't almost ten years her senior. She likes to pretend a lot of things.
She likes to pretend that this is the picture-perfect wedding--and really, it is--and afterwards she'll go home and sketch it and he'll tell her how lovely her drawings are and shouldn't she do something with those; pursue it, start her own career. She likes to pretend that they will be happy in their little domestic life in their little domestic house.
She tends to ignore the little incidents of domestic abuse. The bruises on her arms are healing nicely and her mother didn't raise a fuss about them when she explained them away. But her cousin could see it in her eyes. Her cousin makes her want to cry sometimes, because she can see through her; through her defenses and lies and fantasies. Kairi can tell. Kairi knows, and if Naminé cries on her wedding day it won't be from joy.
She stands in a room to the side of the narthex, looking still at herself in the mirror. She sees tired blonde hair and weary blue eyes hidden by layers of satin and lace. A bouquet of white roses because she asked for them, with a single pink one in the middle, because no matter what he holds dominion over her. She picks a petal off and kisses it and watches the white-stained-with-pink-lipstick fall to the ground. The music starts.
As she walks down the aisle she sees the faces of so many she has known and loved--so many wasted opportunities and instead of feeling like she is headed to a new beginning she feels as though she is marching to her death. Her best friend is smiling at her from the Ushers and her Maid of Honor is frowning at her and she feels like she's going to cry but Roxas' smile over Marluxia's shoulder keeps her strong, keeps her whole for the moment. The priest is speaking but she doesn't hear the words; doesn't hear a single thing until he asks if there are any objections.
The room is spinning and she's holding her groom's hands for gravity alone and she can see the possession--the poison in his bright blue eyes and she can't breathe as her mind cries out for mercy--isn't anyone going to say anything?--but the priest is already opening his mouth again and--
"Wait."