Naminé's sick to the stomach and
bleeding from the ears. She was never
a conversationalist, she much prefers
her crayons and her sketchbook and all
that blonde hair she can hide behind because
she's just Naminé and she hasn't got
anything to prove and she's not showing off
or shouting or acting a hero with hollow words.
Tell me no stories and I'll tell you no lies, but
there are lots of stories and lots of lies and
they never stop, so stupid and empty like holes
in chests and spaces for hearts, so many hollow
words that never ever stop;
'Hey, jailbat.' – Axel, winking suggestively at
hunched-up blondie looking small and tiny and
dainty on her chair so he stands just that little
bit taller and acts just that little more outrageous
and oh my god why is he even bothering? What's
he trying to prove?
'Stupid BITCH!' – Larxene, thunder and lightening
and pale chin trust up with black gloved fingers and
pushed backwards off her chair onto the floor with a
clatter and collecting her crayons up again because
nobody else will.
'Draw me a picture, princess.' – Marluxia crooning
in her ear with lips pressed up against delicate pink
shell and she shudders up and down and body trembles
like paper and rips in two because he's coiling words
around his tongue and hair around his finger and it's
so awfully manipulative and just plain wrong she wants
to be sick, wants to be silent.
'An interesting experiment.' – Vexen, barely giving her
a passing glance and not even talking to her as he
sweeps like a bat into her room and out again in a flurry
of black and purple portal and she's not just wires and coils
and things that react, she's a normal girl but he can't see
past that, lost in his own little world of x plus y equals
nobody child, memory witch, little blonde bitch with coloured
crayons and bleach blonde hair.
'What are you drawing?' – Zexion, not really caring if
he answers either way because he's a social junkie like her
and he'd rather be hold up in his basement and it's just
simple stupid talk because she's a simple stupid girl in his
eyes and he's far cleverer than her and why does he waste
his time with brittle bird bones and large blue eyes and he
looks at her as if she'd know but she doesn't either so
she says nothing and turns her chair to the wall and
wills them all to shut up, hands in her hair and head in
her lap and pretending she can't hear, can only hear
glorious, beautiful, unbroken s i l e n c e.
And then
…
…
…
It's quiet and she looks up and waits for the smirk or
the slap or the sneer or the snigger but none comes,
and standing by her chair is the one member who
values silence as much as she does and she smiles
because he understands what it means to hold your
tongue and maybe, just maybe she's a normal girl
deep down who wants to be alone sometimes. She
smiles secretly to herself and…
…
…
…
They've never said a thing to the other but he lets
her sit with back to him head to the wall and draw
quietly lost in sound of her own breathing and red against
White and the rustling of paper and the beat on non-
existent hearts and that
s i l e n c e
is enough for both of them.
tell me no stories and i'll tell you no lies.
a/n: because even though I don't like Lexaeus I figured he needs some stories about him and I can image him and Nami getting along x3.