Sometimes he wonders if it's really healthy, how much he needs Demyx.
It's probably not, there's probably something wrong with him and maybe he should tell Superior so he knows Zexion might not be fit for missions, but he can't bring himself to care enough and that's that.
Maybe he should have, though, because those crisp orders to report to Castle Oblivion immediately might have gone to somebody (nobody) else; but then again Xemnas would probably (Well, definitely) not care at all.
But they go to him, and no matter how much he wants to stay and be around those bright eyes and bubbling laugh, he has to go, and he does.
He shouldn't have gone but it's not as if he had a choice, he thinks later, when he can feel his own blood dripping through his fingers, and the last thing he thinks about before he fades is those eyes and that laugh, because they're the only thing in his little sad joke of a life that meant anything at all, even if they're nothing just like everything else.
They're the only thing he ever had, and it was better than nothing because at least it was something, even if only in his mind.
A/N: I own nothing.
