Simplicity
I.
He spent a lot of time watching him discretely at first.
They attended the same school for three years, but he'd never gotten his courage up to talk to him so he was content with just watching. They shared two of the same classes together, and he'd learned many things just by being observant. Axel always told him that he wouldn't notice if a bomb went off because he was such a space case, but he knew that wasn't true. Demyx was intelligent and he did carefully keep an eye on people, but he was also bubbly. That didn't make him stupid, contrary to popular belief.
He was sitting across the library again, in the same chair as always. With a book splayed between his long slender fingers, he was reading with apparent disinterest. Once in a while he would let the book rest to push his transparent glasses up his nose with an index finger, and he would sigh.
Demyx thought Zexion was beautiful. He was quiet, pensive. He didn't talk much but whenever he spoke he always said something interesting. He was beyond smart, always knowing the answers to the teacher's questions and effortlessly achieving top marks on tests. When Demyx found he was in the same study period as Zexion, he'd been secretly elated. He wondered if maybe this was his chance to talk to the boy who didn't speak with anyone else. Demyx knew Zexion must have friends, everybody does, but he'd never seen the boy converse with other students if it wasn't completely necessary.
Sometimes when Demyx was riding the public bus home, listening to his iPod, he'd daydream about Zexion coming and talking to him. They would have awesome conversations and Zexion would tell him about all sorts of worldly matters. Zexion wouldn't find him loud or obnoxious. Instead the slate-haired boy would be patient and teach him different things. He'd inevitably daydreamed about Zexion in not-so pure intentions, but that was mainly because Demyx was a hormonal teenage boy with a crush.
Pouting, Demyx placed his head down on the plastic table. His textbooks were piled up past his nose as his eyes locked on the slim boy.
Roxas once informed him that Zexion was emo. He said that Zexion was probably the type to go home and listen to angst ridden bands and contemplate killing himself. Axel laughed, as he was apt to do with anything Roxas said, but Demyx anxiously defended Zexion. Just because a person was quiet didn't mean that they were emo or suicidal. And just because a person was cheerful didn't mean that they were dumb or ignorant.
Demyx told Roxas that he was stereotyping and being a jerk, Roxas easily agreed. Roxas was the sort of person who understood who he was, and Demyx was glad to be his friend. Roxas was also the only one who knew of Demyx's crush on Zexion, and he'd kept it a secret too. Even from Axel, though they were best friends and shared everything.
Demyx knew that Zexion had a lot of things in common with him. During introductions at the start of the term they were assigned an essay about various personal preferences so the teacher could 'get to know his students for their individuality'.
Demyx was one of the first people to give his presentation and he'd relayed his passion of music, his love for the ocean and how he wanted to be an oceanographer someday. The majority of his classmates rambled about what brands of clothing they wanted to wear and other trivial stuff. But Zexion talked about how he aspired to further his education and leave their redundant hometown. How he dreamed of bigger things then the Destiny Islands. Demyx was the same.
He adored his home, really. He loved his friends and his mother and sister, but he honestly couldn't see himself living there for the rest of his life. He wanted to get out, continue with his schooling really far away and meet new people. He wished he could tell Zexion these things because he implicitly knew that he would understand.
The bell rang somewhere from out the hall, informing students the period was over. He didn't get up immediately; instead he noticed Zexion pack his book into a messenger bag and smooth his shirt down. He was naturally graceful and moved with enviable poise. He watched as Zexion left from the corner door and Demyx was late for his next class.
II.
Zexion sat in his chair reading the book his homeroom teacher recommended, but found it dull and convoluted. He also couldn't ignore the aqua eyes that were staring at him from across the library. As much as he attempted apathy, he wondered what the hell Demyx Mizu thought he was staring at.
He knew Demyx watched him a lot but he couldn't fathom why. At first he'd been deeply offended, thinking that Demyx was openly mocking him like a sideshow freak. But after a while he began to notice that that didn't seem to be the case. Demyx would simply sit down, place his head on his hands, and stare with a far off expression.
Zexion couldn't recall ever conversing with the boy and from what he gathered he was the only one that received this treatment from the hyper band student. Zexion didn't know much about Demyx except that he was obsessed with music and anything to do with the beach. Yet his interest constantly peaked whenever Demyx was called on in class. The cheerful boy was far more studious then Zexion initially assumed.
Zexion's eyes flickered over his glasses and he saw Demyx resting atop the table, head turned towards him. The boy was unusually talkative and friendly; he sported a decent array of friends and was normally among large groups of people. He had an easy smile, an honest laugh, and he appeared to be a kind person.
Zexion mused why Demyx never came and spoke to him. Though in the end he knew the reason, it was blatantly obvious. Zexion was a cold person by nature and he disliked the majority of the people at the school. He thought them all stupid and kept any conversations brief and to the point. Demyx seemed to be the exact opposite, always chatting on and on about different things. He wondered what conversations they could ever have. They obviously had nothing in common.
But still, Demyx watched him a lot.
And Zexion couldn't help but wonder why.
III.
The first time they spoke was in their eighth period class, Classic Literature. It was one of Demyx's least favorite courses because he hated all the old-English that was constant metaphors. He wished the dead author's would just get to point and say what they needed to say because they always superfluously added sentences with big verbs and pretenses. It bugged him. This was the second class that Demyx shared with Zexion but he sat three desks in front of said boy so he didn't watch him like he wished he could.
Axel was in that class too and they normally paired up for projects or reading assignments, but that day Axel skipped school because he was hung-over from one of Larxene's parties.
The students were assigned an in-class project to draw out a scene from the book they were reading. Demyx hadn't done his homework the night before so he didn't know what the short story was about and when the teacher told everyone to pick partners he glanced around nervously. Many people went to their usual friends so Demyx gulped, standing awkwardly. Walking stiffly to the last seat in the row he stood before Zexion.
His heart was pounding and he was certain his face was flushed, but he managed to ask, "You wanna be partners today?"
Zexion's azure eyes looked directly into his easily; they were both fathomless and intensely perceptive. Zexion gave a brief nod and Demyx sagged into the seat in front of him, trying not to gasp with relief or awe. A few people were pointing at them from around the room, whispering to one another conspiratorially. They collectively understood Zexion preferred to work alone.
"So, um," Demyx stated eloquently, "Who's gonna draw?"
Zexion seemed to consider this for a long moment before he finally replied, "Art is not my forte."
Demyx was enamored by how deep Zexion's voice was. It was quiet, but firm.
"Okay!" Demyx exclaimed with a grin plastered across his face because of nerves.
Zexion quirked an eyebrow when Demyx added, "I'll be the artist. What scene do you wanna draw?"
Demyx looked down at the book in his hands and thumbed through the pages. It was a fifteen page story, and the main character appeared to be named Marcus. Demyx sighed, mournfully realizing that he probably should've read the story and known what he was doing before approaching Zexion. Now he was going to look foolish because he hadn't done his homework. Zexion deftly realized his ignorance from the clueless expression as Demyx frowned despondently. Zexion found the pout endearing.
"The story is about a Greek military soldier lamenting the loss of his brother. It's called the Death of the Horatii. His sister is married to a man from the opposing army who also died. The soldier murders his sister because of her dedicated oath for her husband when she should have been loyal and mourned her brother's demise." Zexion informed him.
Demyx's aqua eyes became unreadable. That was probably the longest sentence he ever heard Zexion say.
"That sounds horrible!" Demyx cried unhappily, glaring back down at the book with an incredulous expression, "Of course that lady is going to care that her brother died, but still, I mean, it was her husband and all."
Zexion nodded, "When Marcus, the leading character goes to trial, the judge found him not guilty for murder since it was deemed an appropriate action."
Demyx was aghast as he commented in an offhand manner, "Honestly, those people. They had such weird morals back in the day. It makes me glad to be born now."
"That's not the point. It's supposed to be poetic irony. The reader is led to believe what Marcus did was the appropriate course of action." Demyx locked eyes on Zexion with a queer purse of his lips.
"So what do you think?" He hedged.
"…"
"Do you think what he did was right?"
"…" Zexion seemed to ponder this and Demyx was enthralled by the expression. He appeared comically serious. The slate-haired man spent a good half a minute thinking about Demyx's question before cautiously responding.
"I do not."
Demyx grinned; oddly glad Zexion felt that way, "That's what we should make our picture about."
"Excuse me?"
"I mean, I think we should draw the woman crying over her husband, not the brother killing her. That's only fair since she had a story too." Demyx told him, pulling out a blank piece of paper and clicking his mechanical pencil into use.
Demyx started to draw the outlines of the lone figure, a woman hunched over herself with her arms wrapped around her lithe body, an expression of pure agony wrenching her features. Zexion watched him and out of the corner of his eye Demyx would glance back. Demyx tried not to blush as he began to sketch the details. He was unused to Zexion paying attention to him.
"You have an interesting perspective on the situation." Zexion finally told him, startling Demyx.
"You think so?"
"Obviously you have not read the story, yet you grasp the emotions behind it. You are more observant then you appear."
Demyx couldn't help but flush at the statement, extremely flattered to be receiving praise from a genius like Zexion.
He forced his gaze down towards the paper with an absent smile on his face, "Sorry I didn't read the story. I went out last night and forgot about it completely."
Zexion didn't comment and Demyx didn't mind. He shaded the picture with lighter tones and made a large shadow with a spike coming out of the corner to foreshadow the brother pushing forth to kill her. Then at the top he wrote his name with Zexion's. He liked how they looked when they were written together with a little plus symbol between them.
"I hope she lets us do this for the rest of the period." Demyx said after he finished the image.
"But we have already completed the assignment."
"I know, but I could really care less about most of the stories she makes us read. I think that the writers need to get to the point and they skirt around a lot of issues. It irks me how they can be so romantic with relationships and so dumb when it comes to other basic human emotions. I have a sister, Ariel, and I couldn't ever imagine killing her for something like that."
"Yet they also live in a previous era where different social perspectives were evident."
"Yah, but people are the same no matter where you go, no matter when you live."
"How so?"
"Like, all people care about are their family, friends and hobbies. If you go to Mexico there's gonna be special trends because of differences in culture, but people are still people." Demyx explained, twirling his thumbs and leaning back against the desk.
He turned to Zexion and couldn't help but grin. Zexion's chin rested on twined fingers with eyebrows furrowed, his hair pushed back behind his other ear. He was perplexed, like he didn't comprehend what point Demyx was getting at and this fact bothered him.
"We should be partners again sometime." Demyx mentioned.
Zexion briefly nodded.
"Indeed."
IV.
The next time they spoke was during their morning study period. Demyx had been slaving over math homework in between staring at Zexion. He couldn't concentrate because he kept replaying their conversation for the billionth time. They both received an A on that in-class assignment and Demyx was walking on water the rest of the day. He called Roxas with his cell on the bus and told him how they talked, and Roxas was pleased despite sounding a little prissy. It was probably because he was mad at Axel for something or another, so Demyx was unperturbed.
Zexion was reading a thick tome, like he always did, wearing a long-sleeved shirt and grey pants despite the tropical weather. Demyx knew that it would be far easier to speak to him a second time, but he didn't want to annoy Zexion either. Gathering his courage, he eventually stood and grabbed his books before pacing over, plopping onto the sofa right beside him.
"Hi," Demyx waved casually. Zexion peered blankly up from his book. He nodded his greeting before turning back to resume his activity as if nothing occurred. Demyx opened his mouth to say something else but promptly snapped it shut. He tugged out his math folder to continue working on the dreadful assignment.
They sat silently together for the rest of the period.
V.
The next time they saw each other was by complete accident. Demyx argued with his parents about his grades and the fact that he spent most of his time playing Sitar. They ranted and raved, demanding that he get his act together or he'd be kicked out as a consequence. The shouts echoed outside his home, with mean snarky remarks thrown left and right.
Demyx eventually stormed out, grabbed his bike and rode off into the evening. He lived pretty far away from most of his friend's and he couldn't ride anywhere for hospitable refuge. So he went to park just a mile away, thinking he needed to cool down a bit before returning to face round two.
Throwing his bike with a lot more force than necessary he pulled out his iPod to blare a metal band. He idled on the swing while glaring down at the ground and cursing his parents over and over again. He'd gotten through one song before he felt someone tapping his shoulder. Jumping slightly, his head spun past his shoulder. Demyx was shocked to see Zexion behind him, wearing a navy t-shirt and shorts. Demyx plucked the earbuds out and turned off his music before standing.
"You appear upset," Zexion observed, stepping around to sit on the swing beside Demyx.
Demyx blushed, nodding, "I had a fight with my parents. I didn't know that you live around here,"
"I reside just past Fifth Avenue. What was the conflict about?"
Demyx was tempted to bite out, 'why do you care?' because he was still angry. But this was Zexion and he was talking to him and caring about him and Demyx didn't want to screw up the opportunity.
"I'm getting bad grades right now and they think I won't do anything with my life because what I want to do isn't good enough for them." He muttered, sinking back down on the swing with a sullen expression.
"And what do you want to do?"
"Play music, study the ocean, and get the fuck out of Destiny Islands." Biting his lip he flinched, "Sorry about the cursing."
"You wish to leave, then?" Zexion was looking off into the distance.
"Yah, I do. I want to get out of here and meet new people and try new things. I keep telling them that I won't go to law school or doctor school or even accounting school. But they say that I don't have enough talent."
Zexion decided not to comment.
"It's not like I hate it here," Demyx continued, "It's just that I know there is more out there than this."
"You are brave, then." Zexion informed him. Demyx tried not to roll his eyes.
"Why?"
"Not many people would be so ready to toss away everything they know and find familiar to discover new things."
"You make me sound stupid."
"On the contrary, it was meant to be a compliment."
Demyx finally smiled, "Thank you."
VI.
Zexion was heading home from his part-time job at the library when he spotted Demyx.
The spiked mullet was rather hard to miss. Zexion watched as Demyx chucked his bike onto the sand and stomped over to a swing set, grumbling about something. Walking closer he could hear music blasting from small headphones the youth wore. Demyx's was tense and when Zexion tapped him on the shoulder, he jumped. They spoke for several minutes, Demyx telling him about an argument he'd had with his parents, and Zexion simply listened because that's just what he did.
He wasn't exactly sure why he even approached the kid, it's not like they were friends. But he found Demyx interesting and far more thoughtful then face value.
Demyx always seemed to think and say things in a unique manner. He didn't have a huge vocabulary to express himself with, but he always managed to get the point across. They lounged together and chatted for nearly an hour, which was extremely out-of-character for the slate-haired man. He found himself informing Demyx about subjects he'd never verbalized before, and he'd thought about stuff that he'd never previously considered. It was unusual, weird, so many different things… but it was also nice.
Demyx talked about himself, how he could play the Sitar and loved it, that he didn't like watching TV because he thought it was stupid and commercials were boring. He told a story about why he cut his hair and even revealed how his best friend Axel was crushing on the blonde boy in Zexion's math class.
Zexion talked of where he worked and some details from the book he was reading. They ended up discussing a project for class. The sky was black and dusted with stars by the time Zexion finally decided he should head back. He lived alone in an apartment with his cat and she'd be hungry. Demyx was amazed that Zexion lived alone, but hadn't pried or asked why. Zexion was grateful.
Demyx seemed resigned to the fact that he needed to go home and before Zexion could stop himself he unconsciously invited Demyx to stay the night. Demyx grinned cheerfully and thanked him profusely, grabbing his bike and shoving his music player into his pocket before trailing after him.
As they walked to Zexion's apartment together, he couldn't understand why Demyx was making him act so strangely. Zexion hadn't considered ever inviting anyone over to his place, let alone for an entire night. But remembering Demyx's crestfallen expression when he reiterated how his parents thought him worthless…
The energetic musician was ranting about some band and how their old music was a lot better than their new stuff. Demyx's eyes were twinkling and he was obviously in good spirits again. Zexion noted how he constantly motioned with his hands as he spoke. Zexion was barely listening; instead he was focused on Demyx's smooth skin, lightly tanned and clear. Or his dirty blond hair that was lighter on the top. It was unexpected that he would feel an attraction to someone as polar opposite from himself as Demyx was, but Zexion couldn't find it in him to care. Demyx was a sweet boy, he decided.
When they reached his place, Zexion cooked a light meal while Demyx fiddled with the radio atop his counter before settling on the local rock station. They ate together and talked more, each learning things and both completely amiable.
After the dishes were done, they sat companionably in his living room and Zexion finally asked him a question that had bothered him since he'd met the boy.
"Why did you always stare at me?"
Demyx was like a deer in headlights.
"Um, well…"
Zexion waited patiently for his answer.
"Because I knew that we would get along well together."
VII.
Demyx found himself in Zexion's company a lot more after that unintentional sleepover. He sat right next to him during their study period every day. The more that Demyx got to know Zexion the more he fell in love. Zexion maintained curt opinions, and sometimes they debated different points about religion or politics. He carried an awesome sense for books too, and Demyx's bedside table became covered in borrowed literature that he'd devour before going to sleep.
Axel was initially snarky with him for ditching out as partners in their Literature class (this was mostly because Demyx always did the work), but he'd gotten over it. Demyx no longer needed to daydream about Zexion on the bus, they now rode it together on days that Zexion didn't have to work.
They hung out after school three times a week. They would go get coffee and once Demyx invited him back over to his house to play his Sitar for nearly an hour. Demyx surprised Zexion by being incredibly adept with the instrument, and from that point on Demyx would always play for Zexion upon request. It was odd for the two that complete strangers could suddenly become such good friends, but they found their conversations forthcoming and entertaining.
Sometimes Demyx was a spaz and Zexion was moody, and Zexion also ignored personal questions like the plague, but it worked for them. The more Demyx thought about it, the more he was happy and grateful to have Zexion around. Except for one little thing.
Demyx still had a monster crush on Zexion.
VIII.
At first the whole crush thing hadn't been a problem. He blatantly ignored it and focused on not wrecking his new friendship. He figured that even if Zexion was gay or even bisexual, he probably didn't think about Demyx in that light. It all began when Demyx noticed Roxas and Axel acting weird around one another.
Because of his new friendship with the quiet boy he wasn't hanging out with either of them as much as he used to. He knew what was going on in their lives because they always sat by each other during lunch, but he hadn't been attending parties or the movies with them.
When it all started, Demyx realized Roxas was feigning jitters. Axel became inexplicably bashful and shy, completely weird and out-of-character for the normally self-assured pyro. Demyx hadn't said anything because he figured they were having one of their normal fights and it would eventually blow over. But then Roxas completely stopped sitting by them.
Demyx was munching his lunch as Axel told Xigbar about a party that weekend. He was stunned when he saw Roxas give Axel a scathing glare before marching off to the opposite side of the cafeteria to sit with his twin brother, Sora. Axel became visibly upset, and Demyx could tell he was hurting.
"Is everything okay, Ax?"
"Don't worry about it, Dem. Roxas is just being hormonal." Axel's voice was soft. His vivid green eyes were wary and cautious. It was only then that Demyx spotted how tired and worn out the redhead was.
"I think that Roxas just needs to pull the stick out of his ass," Xigbar cackled. Axel immediately got defensive.
"Hey, don't talk about him like that." Axel stated sharply. Demyx blinked.
"You're acting really odd, Ax." Demyx slowly replied.
Axel glanced at him, than his eyes flickered across the lunch hall to Roxas. The blond was laughing at something his brother was saying. Demyx looked over too, and maybe he was the only one who noticed it at the time, but Roxas wasn't really laughing. He looked like he was crying on the inside.
IX.
A week passed where Roxas completely avoided Axel. Demyx explained to Zexion how he was worried about the two, they were best friends and their fights rarely lasted this long. They were mad at each other most of the time, true, but it always ended easily because of how close they were.
The strain was overwhelming and everyone began whispering and wondering what happened. Zexion suggested that maybe he should express his concern to one of them, so Demyx decided to take his advice.
He backed Roxas into the corner the next day, informing the cerulean eyed boy that he was freaked out. Roxas became angry, defensive, and a tad bit cruel, but then Demyx grabbed him and forcibly pulled him into a hug. Demyx understood Roxas' basic nature, after all.
They'd been friends since elementary school. Whenever Roxas was hurting he hid it with anger. Axel was the same, only he was cynical instead of angry. And when Demyx finally hugged Roxas, the youth broke down and clutched Demyx's shoulders. He proceeded to soak his shirt with tears.
Then he heard the story, or tried to through broken sobs.
What he managed to grasp of the situation was that Axel and Roxas made out one night at a party when they were drunk. It was some dare Sora pawned on them, and because of the inebriation it seemed like a good idea at the time. What they hadn't counted on was blearily waking up the next morning in Axel's room, naked as the day they were born with Roxas' backside aching. Axel began apologizing profusely but Roxas obstinately refused to talk to him since.
"Rox, you know Axel cares about you," Demyx gently mentioned, "A drunken mistake is no reason to ruin your friendship."
Roxas dejectedly stared up at him with puffy red eyes and told him, "That's what Axel said too. Only I didn't think that it was a mistake at all."
And Demyx had nothing to say to that.
X.
Somehow, during the following hours after Demyx talked with Roxas the entire thing sorted itself out.
It figures, right?
The creepiest repercussion was how Roxas and Axel were apparently dating. Like sickly romantic, huggy kissy holding hands and exchanging slobber at any given moment dating. Demyx was beyond shocked, but he saw how happy they both were and how their eyes glowed complacently. They would hold hands underneath the lunch table while swapping banter affectionately.
Demyx began to look inside himself and found how lonely he really was. He felt pushed away and completely isolated from all the people around him. At first he thought that maybe he was being a bit melodramatic. But when the fights with his parents escalated over the next few weeks and Zexion started working double shifts at the library, Demyx couldn't help but feel distraught.
He was a good actor though, and he hid it well.
Or at least, he thought he did.
But Zexion noticed, and it really wasn't that hard if you were watching the boy closely. Demyx still smiled and laughed, he still bounced around and was social, but nothing seemed to reach his eyes anymore. His genuine smiles became further between and whenever Demyx thought nobody was looking he seemed downright miserable.
Zexion knew how hard Demyx's parents were on him, they talked about it many times, and he also knew that having your two closest friends dating must kind of suck. But whenever Demyx got that rejected look, it hurt Zexion because he'd always tried to hang out with the musician whenever chanced a spare minute.
And at some point through the depression, Demyx decided that it was probably in his best interest to give up on his unrequited love for Zexion and start dating people.
Zexion on the other hand was fighting to fill whatever gap resided in Demyx's heart, and to make Demyx realize that he did in fact care- and a hell of a lot more then Demyx realized.
It all ended with a misunderstanding.
XI.
It was three days after Christmas break started and both boys were lounging in Zexion's living room. Demyx was flipping through different guitar magazines while Zexion read his D.H. Lawrence novel. They sat beside each other underneath a shared blanket, but that was nothing new. Zexion was poor and couldn't leave the heat on all the time so it was a comparative freezer during the winter months. Demyx didn't mind one bit, he found Zexion's apartment to be his salvation in comparison to his own home.
"Hey Zexy," Demyx broke the silence, looking over at the slim youth enthralled in his novel. Zexion glanced up, blinking slowly, before finally focusing his attention on Demyx. It always took him a few moments to reorient himself when being pulled away from reading.
"Yes?"
"What do you want for Christmas?"
"Nothing in particular."
"C'mon!" Demyx whined, flipping his magazine shut and attempting puppy dog eyes, "I know that you don't have a family so I want to get you something special!"
Zexion visibly tensed, "How do you know that I don't have a family?"
"Well, I kind of figured since you don't really talk about them." Demyx replied, completely missing Zexion's sudden change in expression- until it was directly aimed at him.
"So I was thinking-" Demyx continued jabbering before turning to face Zexion.
He cut his own sentence off because of the look on Zexion's face. He was glaring at him. Not just glaring, but glaring. The frigid sneer was laced with so much malice it sent unintentional shivers down Demyx's spine. Demyx's eyebrows rose on his forehead and he leaned forward, concerned as hell about Zexion but trying not to show it.
"Hey, are you all right?" Demyx tentatively asked.
"Demyx, you should learn how to mind your own fucking business." Zexion spat, swiftly standing to gracefully leave the room without another word.
Demyx sat alone for a long while, wondering what he'd done.
But then, as he'd begun doing more and more of late, he came to a conclusion that was bitter and dismally self-deprecating. Roxas often called it, 'seeing your glass as half empty,' but Demyx thought it was more along the lines of 'seeing your glass as shattered.'
Demyx realized he'd just screwed something else important to him, like his parents said he invariably did. But the difference was that this time it was the most important thing to him in his life.
He was still in love with Zexion.
And he was pretty sure that Zexion hated him.
XII.
Zexion wasn't quite sure why he'd blown up at Demyx, and he was unsurprised to find the boy absent from his apartment when left the room. He felt awful, Demyx didn't deserve such treatment. The musician was nothing but helpful and kind.
But Zexion's past- his family- was something he didn't discuss. And even though he realized that by never mentioning them, Demyx would be curious and assume things that were left unsaid. Like how Zexion didn't have any parents, and that's why he lived alone.
Zexion was furious with himself but a little too ashamed to call Demyx the next day and properly apologize. He figured that the boy needed a few days to cool off. Thinking that Demyx would be mad at him for such a childish and immature display, Zexion assured himself things would return to normal.
On Christmas Eve with Demyx's gift wrapped neatly, he awoke early so he could walk the nine blocks and visit his best friend. It was bitterly cold outside but Zexion was a swift and agile, so it only took ten minutes.
When Zexion knocked on the front door, Demyx's sister Arial answered and ushered Zexion to Demyx's room. Demyx was sleeping when he opened the door, and Zexion found himself hard pressed to wake him up. Because, Zexion found, Demyx looked utterly adorable when he was asleep.
He curled around a pillow like it was a giant teddy bear, his legs wrapped tightly with face buried among the sheets. His hair was in such mused disarray, as if it hadn't been combed for weeks. But his expression was peaceful and relaxed, beautifully serene.
Zexion found the sight undeniably endearing. Demyx didn't snore. He slept quietly with long even breaths and his dark lashes fluttered against smooth cheeks every so often. Zexion sank next to the bed and watched his best friend sleep, a stab of guilt shooting down his spine.
Because he figured that even if Demyx was gay or even bisexual, he probably didn't think about Zexion in that light. And yet here he was, with monster crush on his best friend.
XIII.
When Demyx awoke and found Zexion's gorgeous face just inches from his own, he'd thought it was a dream. In his sleepy haze he recognized the familiar scent of old books and musk. He smiled easily, reaching over and wrapping his arms around the tiny body close by to bury his nose into the crook of a warm and inviting shoulder. He inhaled deeply and was utterly content. Until a soft voice startled him out of his stupor.
"Dem?"
Demyx spazzed and yelped in a very unmanly gesture. He flew upwards, his back hitting the wall while his mouth gaped wide. Zexion was also startled, more from Demyx's reaction then from his unprompted hug. They stared wordlessly for a long moment before Demyx regained his senses.
"What are you doing here?" Demyx's voice was oddly breathless.
"It's Christmas Eve. I came here to give you your gift." Zexion informed him, puzzled.
"But, why?"
"Why what?"
"Why are you here?" Zexion rolled his eyes, amused.
"I already answered that, Dem."
"But… I thought you hate me."
Zexion was taken aback, "What? Are you serious?"
Demyx appeared even more upset, "Well you were so mad at me the other night, I assumed-"
"That was a pretty stupid assumption, Demyx."
Demyx opened his mouth to respond but Zexion cut him off, "On that note, I also have to apologize. I acted childish and rude the other day. You did nothing whatsoever to deserve that, and… I've very sorry."
"So you don't hate me?"
Zexion gave him a dry look. He half expected Demyx to smile sheepishly, but instead he cringed. Zexion moved up to the bed, sitting next to the vibrant musician. He reached over and let his hand grasp for Demyx's.
"What's wrong?"
Demyx bit his lip. Zexion waited patiently.
"It's just-" Demyx started, trailing off, "That I-, well, I feel kind of like I'm about as useful as… I don't know, like broken shards of glass or something. That I will always screw something up. I knew better than to talk about your family, but I did it anyway. It was insensitive and I'd completely understand why you wouldn't like me anymore. I mean, I'm never going to amount-"
Zexion's hand anxiously clamped Demyx's mouth, cutting off the dreadful statement.
"You say you are like a broken shard of glass?" Zexion asked him quietly, "Well, a shard of glass has two smooth sides. If I learn to handle you correctly, surely my fingers will not bleed."
Zexion let his hand fall away from Demyx's mouth and after gathering his courage Zexion took another breath and continued, "You have such a horrid self image. I shall tell you what I think: You're kind, thoughtful, cheerful, intelligent, perceptive, and wonderfully eclectic."
Demyx's mind went blank as he stared at Zexion. Zexion realized he knew that stare, from ages and ages ago when they had never spoke before. It was dreamy and distant, like he was looking at Zexion but not really seeing him.
Demyx leaned forward ever so slightly. Their faces were merely centimeters away.
"Thank you,"
XIV.
And so, as it turned out it wasn't really the ending at all.
It was the beginning of something else. Christmas Break ended and when they resumed school everything was just the same as how they left it. Yet, they weren't. Roxas and Axel were still making kissy faces, the teachers continued to pelt them with overwhelming amounts of coursework, and the same idle chit chat echoed across the campus.
Yet suddenly, Demyx and Zexion were holding hand while going through the halls. And they were leaning in for quiet touches during their study period or whispering to one another with pleased smiles and hushed voices. Every so often, they would chance a gentle kiss, world revolving around no one else. Eyes locked and faces enthralled.
It's very simple, if you think about it like that.