M o t s D a n s L' e a u
Words in the water.
Disclaimer: I went to Japan to try and own Kingdom Hearts and all I got was this lousy Square-Enix t-shirt.
Author's Notes: Some of you may know me, some of you might not. Either way, I hope you enjoy this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it.
A b s e n t
When you're not here, you're the only thing on my mind.
It's the rain that ultimately breaks him. It's so much like him – untamable and wild; frightening, even, and yet at the same time, calming, like the nostalgic and comforting sound of pattering against the window pane.
That explained Demyx perfectly, in all actuality. A contradiction to himself; a living, breathing oxymoron as unpredictable as the sea. Singing love songs one minute and crying the next, he never failed to amuse the older Nobody with the mood swings that he ultimately wasn't supposed to have.
That didn't stop Demyx though; he stubbornly clung to the belief that they in fact did have hearts, Mister Smarty-Pants-with-too-many-books; they were just hidden away, trapped within the darkness that overcame them. They weren't looking for Kingdom Hearts; they were searching for light. After all, he often reasoned, amused at his own wit, how can you miss Kingdom Hearts? It's the moon!
And that is why Demyx is able to feel – smile, laugh, cry, yell – all because he says he's already found his light. It was tangible, too – he could hold it at night, kiss it goodbye in the mornings, and even call out its name. Zexion.
The Cloaked Schemer sighs and sets down his pen, staring at the rain drenched window. He's remembering too much – those eyes, those lips – and it's all he can do not to scream. He's been away too long. His mind knows it, and his body does, too. Far too long without touch, far too long without sound.
He'd promised – promised that no, I won't touch anyone else but you, and the words whispered in my ear will never belong to anyone else. I promise you, Demyx, I promise, now please stop crying. I won't be gone long, and I'll be home before you know it.
But they did know it – both of them did. A few days turned to weeks, which turned to months. At this rate, he'd be spending years in this godforsaken place, stripped of the one thing he wants most.
Demyx. He wants Demyx.
The echoing halls are too quiet, too bare without him there. Everywhere Demyx goes he has an aura to him – it brightens the day and makes their lives just a bit less gloomy when he's around.
Zexion's non-existent memories are fading, they're fading back into the nothingness, and he desperately clings to all that he has, because without that, he has no reason to hope, no reason to continue.
His smiles have worn away, and he feels drained of any warmth, any happiness he once had.
He sighs once more, and stands from the white-marbled desk. As he meanders around the lifeless room, he pauses before the window.
I must be going crazy, he thinks, staring as each raindrop caresses the blurred glass. All he can think about is Demyx, Demyx, Demyx, and he's frightened – frightened of what might befall him.
As of late, his work isn't quite, "up to par" as the cursed blossom-haired Nobody had commented, sitting upon his throne where he hadn't so much as lifted a finger to help their cause.
Hypocrisy, he often mutters, rewriting the same report for the umpteenth time. But none of it matters, because it's for Demyx and for Demyx, he would move mountains.
With a huff Zexion throws open the window, the torrential waters drenching his face. And it's now that he smiles, now that he can close his eyes and relax with the chilling but comforting liquid upon his skin.
Because he knows that the one he wants misses him, and he knows that he's not alone.
Because he swears that Demyx can feel this too.
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