It is late at night. I should update my other story but I'm stumped so I wrote this instead! . Not sure what I'll do with it. Depends who likes it really. Might just be a oneshot or something like that. (Prolly since I'm a lazeh bum)
Disclaimer: I know this will come as a shock to you, but I don't own KH. It's true. I know, I know. I thought it was mine as well but boy was I wrong.
Soft, butterfly footsteps made their way down the dark hallway, coming ever nearer to his door. He barely heard the door swing slowly on its hinges as it opened, though the tell tale draft of cold air that seeped in gave it away.
Lightly padding across the stone floor, careful not to trip on the rug, a pale form crouched down beside his bed, hugging their knees to their chest, chin resting on the very edge of the mattress.
He felt a pair of eyes scan his face and drift up and down his sleeping form.
She used to do this a lot when she was younger but she did it less and less. Now that he thought about it, it had been years since the young ninja had tiptoed into his room during the middle of the night.
Her tiny hand slunk out to his wrist. Her fingers wrapped delicately around it as if it were made of glass, if she wasn't careful it would shatter. Subconsciously she began to rock back and forth on her heels along with the steady rhythm of his heart.
He let himself open his eyes a crack to steal a glance at her.
The girl had never grasped the concept of camouflage. The baggy white shirt she wore caught the moonlight and almost glowed whilst the neon green boxers waved violently at him from beneath the shirts hem. The shirt looked suspiciously like the one he had lost the other week. It crumpled and folded upon itself in an attempted to conceal itself as if sensing his suspicions.
Her eyes were closed and a slight smile skittered across her features as she swayed to and fro to the beat his heart drummed out.
He decided that it was about time he stopped playing possum and spoke up. He couldn't have her sitting there all night, by morning she would be cramped and frozen, and he knew that if he didn't say something that's what would happen.
Moving ever so slightly, he pulled gently on his wrist to alert her that he was waking. Last thing he needed was for her to scream and wake up the castle.
He blinked slowly at her as she opened her eyes. She bounced backwards slightly; fingers still dancing on his wrist.
"What are you doing?" he asked quietly. He already knew the answer. He'd heard it so many times for the first few years of knowing her. He could already hear her reply.
"Checking your still here, that you've still got a heart" came the predicted reply.
"Bed" he said.
"Bed" came her soft echo.
Rolling over to reinforce that the conversation was over, he listened as she breathed quietly. After a minute she stood and he heard her stretch, clicking bones together and loosening her cramped muscles. She treaded softly towards the door, sidestepping a chair and stumbling on a stray boot. He heard the soft flutter as her hair brushed across her shoulders to look back at him before she made a quick detour to his dresser.
The draw grunted softly when it was pulled from its resting place and robbed of a white shirt. There was a slight murmur of cloth being shuffled about, accompanied by the gentle footsteps as she continued to the door. A dull thud told him when the door had closed behind her.
He had never minded her visits. It was one of the few ways he could comfort her. She didn't really need to come and check.
He would always be there. He would always have a heart. But most importantly, he would always be there when she needed him.
She was his family now.
He wasn't going to lose his family twice.