AN:This... is a little cracky, although not humor, so be warned. I wrote it a few days ago, but just decided now to see what people here think.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters mentioned or alluded to, and don't claim to, I'm just a girl with too much time to think.
Spiralling Out
In those days as Ienzo, and even now as Zexion, he was a mad flirt and a bit of a player, not for love, never for love--he swears to himself, indigo eyes wide and not quite pleading--because love is too dangerous and mercurial, but for what the idea of love makes others do, for the giddily unthinking worship of the girls attempting to make this pretty boy their own, for the softly whispered secrets that slip out in bed, these tools given away unknowingly.
He was good at it, too.
So why, then, is he so uneasy at that sitar-playing neophyte's attention?
:pokes fic: It was written as a drabble, but there might be more. No guarantees, though.