Okay, so I wrote ths for my friend for her birthday and now she wants me to post it here. I don't really like it, but you are your own worst critic. Reviews and/or writing advice would be nice, but anyway, just enjoy the story.
By the way, is second person allowed? I think it said not to but I don't really understand what the terms were saying with that.
You asked him out yesterday. He said yes. You never thought he'd say yes.
In your eyes you see him as the sun and you as the moon, night and day, black and white, complete opposites.
But he said yes. You still can't believe he said yes.
You think you never loved the word as much as you do now. It might just be your favorite word (replacing pretentious, your favorite word since you were seven. You're fifteen now, half of your life held that word in high regard only for it to be replaced by 'yes.') .
Except, now you're nervous. Naminé has always told you that, aesthetically, you were completely wrong for each other. The blond and the slate-tinted-periwinkle of your hair colors were destined to clash, but to beautiful to dye (something you, regretfully, thought of immediately, even though you love your hair). Your pale skin was too stark a contrast against his slightly tanned skin (nothing close to approaching brown, more subtle), it washes you out and makes him look too dark in contrast (imagine if you were put next to Sora!). She also says that the styles of you two are quite different. Your quiet thoughtfulness and a tendency to dress in darker blues, grays, and black makes you a shadow to his sparkling personalities bright greens, blues, and striking aqua. He's the complete opposite of you (as you've mentioned before) and he's sure to notice. He's an artist, too (albeit of a different kind), he's sure to realize these exact same musings and horrid differences, contrasts.
You think you've successively just made yourself so nervous that you are about to throw up. You hate that feeling and the butterflies in your stomach are only making it worse. You know the date isn't for another… twenty-one hours, thirty-six minutes, and six point four seven two eight one seconds, but it still makes you nervous just to think that he will be alone with you on a date where you are sure to make a bigger idiot of yourself than you do in crowded room fifty feet from him.
The next day you hardly say anything to him, you're so nervous all you can manage are a few 'fine's or 'I'm really looking forward to tonight' (such an understatement) or 'See you seventh period!' (one of the three periods you have together). You fit your small form through the crowds faster than normal so as not to get a glimpse or him (or him of you, for that matter). It's impossible for you not to think of tonight- and Kingdom Hearts, are you doodling your names in fancy script and drawing hearts on your notes?
Only two hours, seven minutes, and fifty-two seconds (on the dot) until your date. You have yet to ask the dreaded question to your younger brother, and to an extent, his boyfriend. You fret to think of what blackmail this could induce but know that it is a lot better than asking Axel and (again) to an extent, Roxas. They would have made your life a living hell (and you rarely use language, so it must indicate how bad it would have been). But mustering up your courage and contemplating all of this has already wasted two minutes and the fifty-two seconds, so you have to act fast. Walking up the stairs and turning to left, you come to Riku's room. After listening for a moment, you deem it safe to knock and enter.
"Hey, Zex. What d'ya want?" Sora cheerfully called.
"I need some… assistance from you two, actually. You see, I have a date tonight and I really don't want to mess this up so-"
"Oh, with Demyx right? This is great! Riku, we can help, right? Pretty please?"
"Fine. I'll get clothes." Riku grumbled.
After an hour and a half of trying on outfit after outfit, they had finally decided on one that would look "cute" enough for Zexion's date, but didn't look like he was trying too hard. The art of this was lost on Zexion himself, but he knew it would benefit him, so he went along with it. The final outfit was a dark-wash jean and black hoodie over a band tee ("because Demyx loves music!" was Sora's reasoning).
"You look great! Fifteen minutes to go, right? You better get going," Riku said, ushering Zexion out of the house.
"You just don't want me to be present when you molest Sora."
"That I don't. Now, leave; you have some amount of driving to do. I presume."
Yes, but…"
"You are not wimping out on this. Especially for the fact that you took up practically two hours of my Sora-time already."
"I'm just really not sure about this. What if this is just a pity date?" you ask worriedly.
"It is not, you're fine, leave." And with that, your wonderfulbrother slammed the door in your face. And locked it.
Arriving at Demyx's house at 6:59, you cursed Riku for making you early. You couldn't wait to start the date, but wouldn't that make you seem to eager? Desperate? You never knew, let alone thought, of these things before. It was never a concern until now. And what really annoyed you was that you couldn't get that old Beatles song out of your head now. I Wanna Hold Your Handalways annoyed you, but now you could at least understand what it was talking about. You really did want to hold his hand. Weird how he brought out those tendencies.
"Heya, Zexion!"
You were apparently so nervous about the person sitting next to you that you didn't even notice him getting into the car. Great, this was practically doomed already. I mean, you can't even stop focusing on him long enough to focus on him. Did that make sense?
"Where're we going?" Well, that was cute. Did he always tilt his head to the right when he asked questions? You never noticed before.
"I thought I would let you decide."
"What about dancing? Do you dance, Zexion?"
"Not particularly well." Actually, I hate dancing.
"Oh, well then, should we just go to dinner? We can decide where to go afterwards." He sounded so cute when he was unsure of himself.
"That sounds enjoyable."
After eating (or not, in your case. You only shifted everything on your plate around in a bout of nervousness.), you proceeded to do the most cliché thing ever.
You went to a movie.
It was a horror movie at that. You don't do horror. Ever. You instill fear in others, but don't do so well yourself. You know you're going to scream like a little girl (in your head at least. You would never be so un-composed in public). But you probably would do that weird girly jump-onto-the-person-next-to-you-in-fear and proceed to bury your head on his shoulder. Or chest. He's quite a bit taller than you.
After going through all the crowds and lines, you ended up in theater 9. At least it was your favorite number. It might not be after this,though.
The room was already darkened for the horribly monotone, boring announcements of 'turn off your cell phones' and 'buy our concessions'. The theater was full and most of the seats were full. The only seats open were upfront. Wonderful. You can practically see the blood and guts in detail from there. Why did you agree to this again? Oh, right, because you, Zexion, are a complete idiot. The biggest idiot there possibly ever was.
You sat as far back as you two could but you were still only six rows away from the screen. When the actual movie began, you felt, suddenly, incredibly weird. You practically hated the people around you for no conceivable reason. That they existed was the thing you despised. They had a right to be here just as much as you did, but you couldn't help but feel that they should be anywhere but here. What was this? you couldn't possible be jealous could you? But you are. For the first time in your life, you're jealous. You're jealous just because they al exist within his presence and they haven't earned it. They just showed up whereas you had to go through agony to get up the nerve to talk to him, to ask him here.
Your thoughts never got any farther as the first person (of course it was the preppy blond cheerleader. At least she won't be so annoying anymore.) was killed. Wonderful, you did, on impulse, practically jump five feet into the air and two feet to the right. You really were short. You barely reached his shoulder.
"Hey, you okay? Zexion?" Demyx asked worriedly.
"Mmmm-mm." Was that a yes or a no? Even you didn't quite know.
"Hey, look at me." You did. "it's okay. Just remember it's not real. That's what I used to always do." He smiled. You think your bones might have just melted along with your brain. You really don't deserve to be with this angel, but you'll take what you get while you can.
It went on in much the same manner. Every time something scary would happen, half the audience would scream and you would jump straight at Demyx. You must look like such a fool. Eventually, you both decided to just put the cup holder in between you up. That was the most embarrassing thing you think you might have ever experienced. He must think that you're such a wimp by now. But he just keeps smiling and looking at you with these eyes. You have no idea what that look means, but you feel like some of this must be a dream. Those eyes hold no emotion you've ever seen. You just hope that they aren't lying, a false emotion behind them.
More violent gore distracted you from analyzing him, instead making you bury your head into him again until it had calmed down. For the next five minutes anyway. Analyzing and inner-little-girl-screaming continued for the next hour until, ultimately everyone was killed and the serial killer was caught.
Afterward, you took Demyx home. There was no way you were going to embarrass yourself further or create anymore situations to make you seem the dorky, wimpy, little bookworm you saw yourself to be.
Getting out of the car, you walked him to his front door. Polite good nights were exchanged and you were turning to go, knowing that this night went horribly, and that he'd probably never want to speak to you again when you felt his fingers curl around your arm and yank you back in one fluid motion.
Then he kissed you. Your eyes widened in shock and you could barely respond. Demyx was kissing you, and you never thought anything like this would happen in a million years, at least not with him. By the time you were ready to respond, he had already pulled back, flushed and rubbing the back of his neck.
"I'm really sorry, Zexion. I mean, I know you probably don't like me, but I was really happy tonight and it was great and I don't know what came over me, I really didn't mean to kiss you like that."
Before he could begin on another rambling sentence, you cut him off. By kissing him, hardly conscious of what you were doing, but knowing that, somehow, you had to do this. that this would never work without risks you never thought to take before.
"What could you ever be talking about?" you asked him lowly.
"Well, I know I'm not very smart-"
"Whoever told you that?" I'll kick their ass.
"Well, I know I don't pick up on things and only get a few As. We always joked that I was the dumb one, and compared to someone like you, I really am."
"You're absolutely ridiculous." You kissed him again. You were getting good at this impulse thing. Maybe you should try it more often. "You are the happy one, the popular one. Can you imagine how hard it was to ask someone out who everyone loves? I swear, thirty girls, and an assortment of boys, will be ready to kill me tomorrow."
"You're exaggerating."
"I am not… do you really like me?" You couldn't help it really. It still seemed to good to be true.
"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, that doesn't matter now. Can we do this again? Soon?"
"As soon as we can, if that's okay with you."
"Of course it is."
And that was your first date. Many things happened from their but the most important facts are that its been six years and your still together. You moved into a nice apartment together about two years ago, learning that it was a task to deal with a person constantly, but that you could handle it pretty well. Tomorrow you're going to propose. Apparently gay marriage was licensed in California and you wanted to take advantage of the time it lasted. You knew the idiots of America would throw a fit soon enough. But that was something to dwell on later. First he had to say yes. But that was something for tomorrow. Well, today, actually. It was 1:58 now. Dinner was only sixteen hours, thirty one minutes and nine seconds away now.