Disclaimer- I do not own Kingdom Hearts

Every Rose has its Thorn

"Ouch, jeez that flower bit me!"

"You touched a thorn didn't you?"

Demyx clutched his index finger where the thorn pricked him. His green eyes swelled from the sharp pain. The girl sitting next to him scooted in front of him.

"Let me see," she instructed taking his hand.

He opened his hand, allowing her to pull off the glove that the thorn pierced through. She looked at his finger, examining it carefully. She saw the cut strait away as a deep crimson blood drop poured out. She took out a small white handkerchief from her basket and wrapped his finger tightly with it. When she was done, he wiggled his finger to make sure it was secure enough.

"You'll be fine," she smiled.

"You could have warned me that your flowers were sharp, Aerith." He growled. "Besides it still stings!"

He shoved his finger into her face to emphasize it still hurt. She took his hand and gently kissed his finger.

"Better?" she teased.

He pulled his finger back and grumbled. She always treated him as if he was a little kid. Then again, the way he acted sometimes made him wonder if that was why she did.

She giggled, "Well like that old saying 'every rose has its thorn'."

Aerith Gainsborough had been working on her rose bed all morning as Demyx, as usual, was lazing about. When she asked him to help he was less than eager to get up, but he could not ignore her sweet coaxing. She had a way of asking people to help her that they could not resist. Demyx knew it because this was not the first time he found himself helping her.

He remembered many times helping the flower girl with her tending. Many times, he found himself carrying buckets of water for her. Not that it was hard work; he would just use his magic to fill up the buckets when he was sure she was not around. It is just that he usually was doing something more important, like sleeping.

"Just be careful," she explained. "If you grab the rose you'll get hurt."

"I'm not touching your flowers, they bite!" he argued in return.

"You do know that every rose has its thorn is just an expression right?"

Demyx snorted. Clearly, roses had thorns. That is why someone stated that roses have thorns. Aerith could tell he was thinking too literal about the quote. She shook her head.

"It means that everyone has a different side to them. The rose is so beautiful and you cannot help but think they are delicate and need to be cared for. Yet, when you touch it, a thorn pricks you and you find that the rose is not so gentle. It is like people. You see their beautiful sides but they also have painful dark sides."

Demyx stared at her, noticing her eyes were transfixed on the roses. What she was saying was true. Even though they knew each other, Demyx never disclosed the fact that he was apart of Organization XIII. She only saw his goofy, fun loving side. How could he ever reveal to her his origins that he himself was what a Nobody?

"All people have thorns," she whispered, stroking a rose petal. "It's just people hide them so well and lure you in by the good side. Then before you know it, it's too late and you get pricked."

Demyx flinched. It was all too true for him. He could never tell her. Being apart of Organization XIII was his dark side. A side he had to hide. He did not want to ruin his friendship with her. He enjoyed how they interacted in such a friendly manner. It made him feel as if he had a heart, even though he did not.

He watched Aerith, her expression unlike her, almost dark. He touched her arm breaking her eyes away from the roses. She turned toward him giving him her usual cheerful smile.

"I'll get the water this time," she said, "Since you are so injured."

She playfully teased him as usual before getting up from her spot. She picked up her watering can and left the little garden to go to the fountain. Demyx watched her leave, startled by the sudden changes in her expression. Yes, he hid his dark side from Aerith. However, did that mean she was hiding something from him?

Every rose has its thorn; every person had his or her dark side. As a member of Organization XIII, he hunted people for their hearts. He used his power to take over worlds, to gain an army of nobodies at his group's disposal. He was curious though. What could Aerith be hiding underneath that beautiful, sweet disposition?

Aerith returned with her watering can. She sat down next to Demyx who was now lying on his side.

"Going back to sleep?" she asked.

"Better than being bitten by a flower."

"You big baby…"

Demyx grumbled and rolled over so he was no longer looking at her. He knew she would continue teasing him if he did not help her. Yet, he was not in the mood to be stung by a thorn again. The Melodious Nocturne wanted to do something fun, something that did not involve flowers. He rolled over, colliding softly into Aerith to gain her attention. She looked down at him and he stared up at her grinning.

"Hey Aerith take a break and let's go have some fun!"

"You are such a kid."

She playfully stroked his crazy blonde locks as if he were a pet. He took her hand and refused to let go when she tried to tug herself free. The two began to wrestle with each other, each trying to gain the upper hand.

"Let me go!" she laughed as he pinned her down on her back.

"Oh come on take a break from your flowers and let's go have some fun." He suggested. "We can go to the beach and eat pretzels!"

"You are such a kid," she said again. "I swear no one would think you were an adult."

"I'm being serious!"

"Unlike you, I have work to be done!" she countered.

Demyx allowed her to get up. She brushed off some stray dirt from her dress and went back to work on her roses. Aerith, she was always busy doing work, always smiling, always the perfect angel. As he gawked at her, Aerith could feel his eyes on her. Her emerald orbs met his and she smiled. She returned to her work but the uncomfortable silence made her stop.

"What is it?" Aerith finally asked.

"What's your thorn?" was his tranquil reply.

"I don't understand," she muttered quickly.

"What are you hiding? You always smile and you are always working. I have asked you a few times to have fun but you are ALWAYS busy. It's as if you do not want to do anything with me unless we're here. Is something wrong with me? Or is there something you don't want to tell me?"

"I don't have anything to hide."

Demyx arched an eyebrow. "You are a good liar. Come on Miss Perfect, tell me."

"Then tell me what you are hiding," she countered. "Mr. I just like to lie around and do nothing. Every rose has its thorn and I bet you have one. So why don't you tell me first!"

Demyx looked away, suddenly rubbing the back of his head. Could he ever tell her the truth? Aerith stared at him her emerald eyes unblinking.

"Do you trust me?" she asked.

"I trust you." He responded softly.

"Then tell me what you're hiding."

Demyx closed his mouth. Aerith waited for him to respond but he shook his head.

"I can't…"

"Why not…?"

"Because…" was his lame excuse.

"Because why? We are friends. We have known each other for a while. What's so wrong with me that you can't tell me?"

"It's complicated… things wouldn't be the same between us if I did."

She looked away. "Am I that untrustworthy?"

"Look, I know how it would end. No matter what, it would change and not for the better."

Aerith stood up looking away from him.

"I thought you trusted me." She said sadly before walking off.

"Well what about?" he snapped. "Why won't you tell me?"

Aerith bit her lip before she continued walking. Demyx looked down. Of course, sharing a dark secret with someone was hard. It required a trust that maybe their friendship did not cross. Their friendship was juvenile, innocent. Their friendship was one that never touched the boundaries that could make either distrust or even hate the other. Demyx stared at the roses.

People were like roses. He and Aerith were like roses. Both had their thorns.

The next day, Demyx found himself in the garden again waiting for Aerith to come. She was late this morning. Something he found quite out of the ordinary. Hours flew by and he soon found that the day had gone by and the flower girl did not come to her garden. Demyx wondered if their previous conversation had angered her in someway. Maybe he was never meant to cross the line and discover what made Aerith imperfect, like him.

She did not trust him because he did not even trust her enough. Why should she share if he was not willing to? Could he ever share that information with her?

No, his firm thought. If he did, she would never understand. How could she?

He had no heart, even if he pretended to. He fooled himself like some of the other members into thinking he did have one. No matter how he tried to rationalize it, in the end it was all the same. Telling her that would change their relationship to a point where he believed they would no longer be friends. That thought alone brought sadness in him, at least one he believed he felt.

Demyx found that night overcame day. Aerith was not coming. Perhaps she was too upset to come today. He stood up preparing to open a portal to return to his home when he heard the sounds of footsteps on a stone path. He looked over and saw Aerith standing a few feet away. Her left hand was holding her right elbow, her face turned to the side, staring at the ground.

"Hey…" Demyx faintly called.

She moved toward him and took his hand. The action startled the blonde haired man. She undid her handkerchief from his finger and looked at the small wound on him.

"We all have our thorns," she whispered.

There was a great sadness in her eyes. She had been contemplating returning here today to face him. She had a secret that no one else knew, her own thorn. Demyx placed his arms around the girl, feeling her body tremble. She buried her face into his chest and he could hear her soft cries. He stroked the side of her head, touching her silky brown curls with his exposed hand.

He pulled her head up and looked into her puffy red eyes. The pain she carried from her secret was a weight on her heart and soul. To cover it up with her smiles, her cheerfulness, her positive attitude was a constant struggle. Something she never shared with anyone.

"Aerith…" he whispered.

She looked up at him.

"What's your thorn?" he asked again.

"What's yours?" she countered feebly.

"If I tell you, would you hate me?" his voice ached in pain.

She did not respond. He took several steps back. He stared at the flower girl nervously. How could he admit what he was to her? Then again, he wanted to know what she was hiding… or did he? The two would have to share their dark secrets, something he was not willing to do.

"Every rose has its thorn… but mine will cut you too deep." He whispered.

He turned around ready to walk away into the shadows when he felt her arms around his waist.

"So would mine," came her reply.

Demyx turned around and faced her seeing her wet eyes struggling to keep the tears in. What he did next was unexplainable. He bent his head and kissed her lips. Not out of love, for he had no love in him. He had no heart. Could he even say it was out of pity? Perhaps he did because it was the right thing to do. A reassurance maybe, to tell her it would be all right.

The two broke apart, emerald eyes looking intently at emerald eyes. Demyx found himself supporting the shaky girl, leading her safely to the ground. He gathered her into his arms, allowing her to sit on his lap.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and found herself kissing him, why though? Why did she want to kiss him? It was not love. Their friendship was not anything deeper. Demyx pulled away from her kiss, gently brushing his thumb on the nape of her neck.

"Would this change everything?" he asked without looking at her.

Would her secret change everything? Would it destroy what the so playfully created?

"... Yes," she finally answered.

He pushed her onto the soft grass, dangerously close to her thorny roses. He kissed her neck, his fingertips grazing across her porcelain skin. He heard her gasp softly as his teeth grazed her. He buried his face against her, unable to look at her. Yet, he would admit his secret because he did trust her and she trusted him.

"I don't love you," he whispered. "I can't love you."

"I know…" she replied. "I have known."

"So… you know what I am?"

"Yes…"

He held her in his arms, supporting her head with his hand. He brought his lips to her ears and let out a soft breath.

"What is your thorn?"

There was a long silence. Then she whispered her reply.

"Loving the darkness…"

X, X, X,

Author Note- This one had been sitting in my computer for months. I wrote it on a whim and never looked at it again. I decided to post it because I am still in love with this crack pairing. Thanks for reading.

Princess~