So, this is my first Zemyx. Don't worry (or hit the back button). I'm confident that it is at least worth reading.

Love.

It's kind of funny when you think about it. It's only a word. A word that has a different definition for every person you ask. Yet, on some level, all of us are looking for it. Why do we have such a high regard for something we don't even know how to describe? You might say it is to feel stable. So many other things can make you feel that which you crave.

To me, then, love was overrated. Whenever you heard about it, you only listened to the perks. You would never pay attention to the down sides. You could have your heart broken. They could leave you, through life or death.
Yes, love was overrated. Then why was it that the only thing I wanted was just out of my reach? I just couldn't comprehend it. My logical side told me that it was nothing, that my mind was just making a fuss over nothing. I tried to believe it, but I had this nagging feeling…

It seemed that I am nothing but a shell of a person. A nobody. But people make it seem like a bad thing. Not having emotions made life so much easier to travel through. It was nothing but a simple walk, passing by the others effortlessly, not having the sympathy to stop and help. I had never wanted emotions, but when I saw his façade, his barrier of feelings… I was hateful and jealous. It was all hidden very well of course, but it still resided deep within my non-existent heart.

I tried my hardest to simply ignore it. To pass by, pretending that his carefree laugh and happy smile didn't make me want to rip his mouth off. At the time, I did not know I was jealous. I had thought that I hated him for feigning emotions that we don't have. I spent my time hiding, rotting away to nothing in the library. I read and wrote, trying to distract myself from these foreign thoughts.

He spent all his time trying to entertain the others. They would all agree with a mocking reply as they listened to him rant and rave at how we did have hearts. I felt sort of bad. The poor thing believed that truly was how we were.

We, as Nobodies, are nothing but ghosts of our former beings. We cannot feel, cannot be sad, or angry, or happy.

Or be in love.

That was what I believed, and I still believe so, to a certain extent, but he had always just laughed quietly and shake his head whenever someone told him that. He said that it was nothing but a lie that the leader had fed to us to keep us under control. I would try and protest, but he would then change the subject, fiddling with whatever I had been working on.

Eventually, the envy that I had felt towards him had subsided. He had begun to hang around the library more often, forcing me into conversation. It had vexed me at first, but I gradually became used to it, like a routine. After talking for a bit, I had begun to open up. Perhaps that was my fatal mistake, showing true colours.

We were "friends" at a certain point. I was not the one who had initially said this, but I did not object. He had grown on me. I had even begun to stand up for him in front of the other members of the Organization. They didn't back off, but he had appreciated the thought.

It was when he stumbled into my room one night that I knew we had emotions.

His blank, emotionless face held tear stains streaking his face. Bloodshot eyes were half-lidded, his nose rosy pink and his lips pale. His cheeks were flushed, shining with tears in the slight moonlight that creeped through the curtains. It had truly scared me. He didn't respond to anything I had said, just standing there. I eventually pulled him in and laid him down in my bed.

After his head had hit the pillow, he finally took a deep, strangled breath, letting out a small whimper on the exhale. More water escaped his eyes. Not knowing what to do, I awkwardly sat next to him. He had curled around my figure, trying to get as much human contact as he could. I had just slowly pet his head, hoping it would calm him down enough to tell me what had happened.

After being silent for about an hour, he spoke in a soft, somber voice. "He's gone. Roxas is gone."

My eyes had widened a bit at that.

He gave a small sniffle. "He was the only one that had believed me. He was so nice, but now he's gone."

"I believe you," escaped my mouth. He smiled sadly and hugged my waist from where he was laying.

"Thank you."

After that day, I began to notice him more and more differently. When he was thinking hard, he would bite the nail of his index finger. He would say his hips slightly whenever he made breakfast for us. He spent most of his free time playing with water when he wasn't "bothering" everyone.

I knew something was wrong. This just wasn't normal. I didn't think about anyone else in the light that I had thought about him in. I did notice, though, that Axel was appearing less and less around the castle, moping like a lost puppy when he was visible. He must have been devastated after Roxas disappeared.

But, as he says, "I digress".

My thoughts were jumbled. I wasn't sure who was correct. I had always thought us to be icy and detached from the very beginning, though us having the ability to feel seemed more and more the truth as I spent more time with him.

"Are you busy?"

I looked up from my book, glasses sliding down the bridge of my nose. "Not particularly, no."

He grinned goofily. "Good. Follow me.

We wandered outside of the castle, our solitary footsteps splashing loudly in the puddles. The chilly rain poured heavily on the hoods of our cloaks. We kept running, past heartless shadows and dusks, passing building by building. The stony street was lit only by the lightning that happened to flash every so often. Dusks hid in alleyways, cowering from us.

We finally reached the border of the World That Never Was and out of the rain's range. I hadn't really been beyond the borders. Sure, for the occasional mission, but even then you are concentrating so hard you block out anything and everything else.

He grabbed my gloved hand, tugging slightly. "It's over here." He pulled me over a large hill, the grass yellow and dead. Stones and random gravel were scattered on the path. We reached the top soon enough.

It was beautiful, the wide open space. The hill dipped down into a yellow meadow. In the middle was a single tree adorned with red and purple leaves. Under it grew a large, red flower. It was almost like a rose, but coarser, looking like it was made of thick leaves.

The rough, but wanted breeze blew our hair in our face, but it was comfortable. I felt free. He sat down on the top of the hill, staring at the field below. He leant over to one side and began rolling childishly down the side of the hill. I simply walked down after him, too relaxed to do much of anything.

We sat below the tree, both of our backs resting against the bark. The sky was tinted a maroon. The sun was teetering on the edge of the horizon. Stars began to appear and the moon glowed a pale white. Everything was so calming; I never wanted it to end. Being locked in that God forsaken castle had worn me out.

"I really appreciate you taking me here."

He shrugged. "You're always studying. I figured you needed to escape." I smiled and hesitantly wrapped my arms around his thin frame. He leant into the touch, pressing his lips to my forehead.

"Thank you, Demyx."

Well, that's it. This origionally began as something I was writing randomly in the car while my mum went into Target. Somehow, it was morphed into my first Zemyx story.

I have a link to a reference picture of the flower on my profile. It should be labelled clearly.

Review and all that jazz. Constructive criticism is helpful, but word it as nicely as possible, for I tend to take it the wrong way and loose my temper. Thank you for reading!