Inspired by missyterum's prompt: "Each member of Organization XIII has a distinct appearance and personality. Their dining habits are no different." Hope you like it, missy.
"If you are that devoted to stealing someone's lunch, look elsewhere before I am forced to impale you."
"C'mon, Xaldin. Be a pal and help me out."
Saïx stares fixedly ahead as he struggles to ignore the fight brewing directly behind him. Marluxia stares back from his seat across the dining table, smiling pleasantly with his chin perched atop his laced fingers.
"You hate leeks," Xaldin says.
Xigbar snorts. "Yeah, but I hate cooking more. Gimme."
A shriek of wind as the first lance materializes. Saïx stiffly tucks his hair back into place.
"All right, geez." There's a clatter of glass as Xigbar pulls the refrigerator open. "Nothing looks good."
Saïx hears the soft scrape of a wooden spoon as Xaldin goes back to stirring his soup. "That is not my problem."
"You suck."
"I can live with the knowledge."
Something sloshes in a container as Xigbar goes digging. "Ugh, is Lexaeus back on those protein shakes again? Those things taste like cat barf."
Xaldin sets down the spoon with a soft click and ladles the soup into a bowl. "I suppose only you would know."
"Ha ha." More clattering from the fridge. "Hey, Vexen actually found some fresh salmon. Good for him! Hope he cooked it right."
Xaldin finally steps into Saïx's view as he goes to wash the pot and utensils in the sink. He speaks without looking up. "I am not responsible for any damage he inflicts on your person."
Xigbar snorts again. "Wouldn't be the first time. You have any idea how hard it was to get fresh seafood in Radiant Garden?"
Xaldin goes on meticulously drying the dishes, setting the first back into the cabinet. "Quite, but I would think that—" he gestures to the steak left to defrost on the countertop "—would be more suited to your tastes."
"Dude, Saïx is right there."
Marluxia's smile widens ever so slightly, but he says nothing. Xaldin just grabs his soup and teleports out.
"What're you smiling about, Posy?" Xigbar saunters into view, holding a half-eaten square of salmon in one hand and a small plastic container in the other.
"That is none of your concern," Marluxia says.
"Uh huh. Maybe you should concern yourself with a cheeseburger. That rabbit food you've got in there is the saddest meal I've ever seen." Xigbar dumps the container in the sink before turning to Saïx. "Enjoy your steak, Fido." He licks his fingers clean before disappearing in a rush of shadows.
The two are left in glaring silence. Marluxia considers Saïx from across the table before splaying out his hands and deliberately pushing himself up. He crosses to the now-unoccupied stovetop with slow, purposeful steps and pulls a pan from the cabinet below. "Do you plan on eating soon?" he asks as he sets down a plate.
Saïx doesn't answer, just continues staring straight ahead as something sizzles behind him. In a matter of minutes, the pan is washed, and Marluxia is sitting across from him again, cutting into a steak so rare that it's practically raw.
"I would think such a meal would be beneath you," Saïx says.
Marluxia laughs softly, an airy sound that makes the hairs on the back of Saïx's neck prick up. "If you're referring to those overcooked dregs of slaughterhouse slop the other members dare to call steak, then yes, it is beneath me." He cuts the meat into triangles and gracefully spears one with his fork, a piece from his own collection of fine antique silverware. "But this is the finest cut available, a feast for lords and ladies left unsullied by the touch of fire." He chews it with relish. "Why would I feed my body anything less?"
Saïx's lips twitch, his equivalent of a sneer. He pushes away from the table and goes to the refrigerator, pulling out his own lunch to find it chilled just the way he likes it. He sets the platter down and seats himself to eat.
"I must say," Marluxia murmurs with a smirk, "our resident berserker is the very last person I would have expected to be a vegan."
"I like the crunch," Saïx deadpans, carefully arranging the vegetable platter into sections.
Marluxia's condescending smile darkens just so. "If only we were all so fortunate. You hear a crunch. I hear the dying screams of my treasured element."
"I know," Saïx says, and looks him right in the eyes as he bites into a stick of celery.