What the Thing Is

The [Eternal] Writer

Roxas+Namine

Summary: When words sometimes fail to portray our true feelings, we rely on the small quirky actions of those around us to interpret what they mean to tell us. Roxas + Naminé.

**IMPORTANT NOTE: I do not own Kingdom Hearts or any of its characters. I am only borrowing them for the sake of this story. I do not intend to profit off of this piece or promote for any chance of publication. It is only intented for the private entertainment of the persons reading this online, presumably through the FanFiction website. All credit goes to Square Enix and Disney for their original conception of these characters. On that note, please enjoy.**

One

A beautiful sunrise, an ocean's peace, a tree's simplicity, a castle's magnificence: only a few scenes that not even the most imaginative mind could fathom, not like hers at least.

These images happened to be illustrated in her sketchbook, every detail made exact with a stroke of the artist's pencil. She had spared no detail, and was thoroughly proud of her work. Finishing another picture of a quaint little cottage she had thought up of, she sat back in her chair with a satisfied sigh, letting her shoulder length, sunlight blond hair slip over to her back. Nothing else in the world seemed to penetrate her enlightened achievement.

That nothing including the history lectures her teacher was giving at the moment. The teacher had been in fact, glaring at her the whole class, yet not saying anything, knowing it would be futile to try and call her attention. She would be in her artist's trance until whatever spirit of inspiration had left her mind. He only could hope that as she awakened to his class, she would notice his disapproving expression, unsuccessfully sending daggers at her.

And in the back of that classroom, a soft chuckle was emitted from an apparently amused boy who happened to also have his eyes fixed on the girl artist. He smiled affectionately, his gaze resting on her beautiful locks of hair. Taking in this wonderful vision, he simply leaned on his desk, supporting his chin with his land, his elbow partially holding up the weight of his upper body on his desk surface, wishing he too could be gifted as her in art, just so he could draw as close representations of her beauty as was possible continuously.

She had awoken out of her daydream universe just in time for the bell to ring, signaling not only the end of the class, but of the entire school day. Grinning, she flipped the cover of her sketchbook over her drawing, and shuffled it inside her bag, as fellow students began to file out of the classroom. The teacher gave an exasperated sigh as he erased all of his notes off of the chalkboard, probably thankful he was still alive in this inattentive pool of hormone beings.

The boy made sure he was as slow in packing his books in his backpack as she was, to match her exit time without being stalker-like or unnatural in any way. He took a breath as she rose from her seat and brought her bag up over her shoulder. As smoothly as he could he approached her.

"Hey…Naminé." He paused as she turned around, smiling in a polite and welcoming way.

"Roxas!" she exclaimed. "I didn't see you earlier." She tilted her head, a smile still gracing her lips. "You're too quiet back there."

He chuckled sheepishly, raising his hand to the back of his neck, rubbing it nervously. "I guess so…as are you."

The history teacher let out an all-too natural cough, taking a seat at his desk, opening some especially squeaky metal drawers and slamming them shut, as if he was looking for something. The sudden noise caught the two teens' attention as they laughed softly and exited the classroom.

Roxas followed Naminé out of the classroom, managing to keep his eyesight above her waistline. She turned around to talk to him, grinning mischievously. "Great lecture, huh?"

He laughed. He couldn't help but adore her childlike personality. It was so innocent and inviting, it made him feel slightly warmer than before. "I'm sure you would know, with those lovely visual notes you must have been drawing."

She laughed and playfully punched him in the arm. It of course did not a hurt him a bit. Naminé would never have the heart to actually inflict pain on anyone, even if she could. He loved how fragile she seemed. It made him want to hold her, protecting her from any harm that could possibly come her way.

Smiles were exchanged for most of their trek down the hallway. That form of communication was complete enough for the both of them.

He shook his head; suddenly back to his desk in the back of the history classroom. It was nearly empty except for the history teacher, coughing a bit as he swept the chalk back and forth across the blackboard, Naminé, who was now exiting the room with a notebook tucked under her arm and her bag perched on her shoulder, and Roxas himself, staring longingly at his beautiful vision, that he could only stare at from a distance.

I plan to put up more chapters soon.

Hope you enjoyed!

If it is not too much trouble, leave a review or any comment! :)

--T[E]W