Disclaimer: In my dreams.
Author's Note: Ah yes, the first fic. Which, hopefully, will not result in anyone spluttering in indignation at my inexperience. Enjoy!
Granted
There's something romantic about listening to the heartbeats of someone you love.
Of course, this only applies to people who are people; people who have hearts.
Zexion and Demyx are not a part of this selective group.
Not that it would matter, anyway. They can't love, they can't feel; they don't have hearts, so the whole idea of romance is something that shouldn't even be considered.
Demyx considers it, though.
So when Zexion asks him what he's doing when Demyx suddenly pulls the Cloaked Schemer's chest to his ear, the younger Nobody puts a finger to his lips and implores the other to be quiet. There is a lull in the air, a comfortable silence as they both wait.
Demyx waits for the 'thud thud' that never comes.
Later, when Zexion's eyes gaze at him with something almost like concern - Nobodies don't feel concern, Nobodies don't feel; Nobodies don't have hearts - and Demyx tires of quiet, the Melodious Nocturne resignedly plants a kiss on his cheek and stands up to leave.
Zexion doesn't ask. Demyx doesn't offer an explanation.
Nobodies don't have hearts.
This accounts for the emptiness in Zexion's chest where he knows something should be.
It doesn't explain why he hasn't felt its absence until now.
---
There's something poetic about feeling the pulse of someone you love.
Obviously, this only applies to people who are people; people who have pulses.
Zexion and Demyx are not in this privileged circle.
Not that it makes any impact on their lives, anyway. They can't love, they can't feel; they don't have hearts, so the whole notion of poetry is something that shouldn't even be pondered.
Demyx ponders it, though.
So when Zexion gives him a quizzical look when Demyx suddenly grasps his wrist and puts his calloused fingers to the blue veins, IX shakes his head. There is a stillness in the air, a snug silence as they both wait.
Demyx waits for the 'thump thump' that never comes.
Later on, when Zexion furrows his eyebrows together in something almost like worry - Nobodies don't feel worry, Nobodies don't feel; Nobodies don't have hearts - and Demyx grows weary from waiting, the blonde Nobody touches his lips to those of the slate-haired other and gets up to leave.
Zexion won't ask. Demyx offers no explanation.
Nobodies don't have hearts.
This accounts for the muteness at Zexion's wrist where he knows something should be.
It doesn't explain why he hasn't noticed its absence until now.
---
There's something profound about feeling your heart skip a beat around the one you love.
Undeniably, this only applies to people who are people; people who have fickle, thudding organs.
Zexion and Demyx are not under this elite category.
Not that it means anything anyway. They can't feel, they just can't - they don't have hearts - so the whole concept of profoundness is something that shouldn't even be contemplated.
Demyx contemplates it, though.
So when the contemplative Nobody seizes Zexion's face in his hands and looks deep into those unmistakably blue eyes, VI is quiet. They're used to the silence now, and they're used to waiting.
They wait for the erratic 'bu-rump, bu-rump' that never comes.
Afterward, they gaze at each other with much softer eyes, neither betraying any emotion - Nobodies don't feel emotion, Nobodies don't feel; Nobodies don't have hearts - and are done with waiting. Demyx rests his head in the crook of Zexion's neck and feels arms around him, secure and familiar.
Zexion doesn't need to ask. Demyx feels no need to offer an explanation.
They don't need romance. They don't need poetry. They don't need profoundness.
Nobodies don't have hearts.
And as Demyx feels lips on his forehead and a tightening of warm arms around his frame, he thinks that's okay.
They've got everything else.
Fin.
Gasp. A review in exchange for my undying love? What a bargain.