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Proof read and edited by MelkMocha.
Axel must have been a sight more angry than I thought... Zexion considered in a state of dissociative disbelief as he stood in the Hall of Empty Melodies watching the flames licking through his library's window. This feeling was a strange one; he couldn't quite place it. The scent of smoke was wafting many yards to reach his nose. His life's work was going up in flame but he couldn't move an inch to stop it. He felt his pulse quicken and a pain blossomed from wherever it originated. Unfortunately, right then, in strolled the last person he wanted to see.
Demyx aimed a crooked smile at Zexion and gave a two fingered wave as he sauntered over.
"Hey, Zexy, you're lookin' paler than usual. Really need to get you out of that library more often," said the oblivious man Zexion was currently paying no attention to.
"I do not believe that will be an issue any longer, Number Nine," Zexion muttered in a derisive tone of voice.
Demyx glanced at the scholar in confusion before following the path of his gaze. The older Organization member watched with something akin to fear, though for what he didn't know, as the sitarist ran toward the burning building with a curse. A crash of thunder was heard, and Zexion watched as the falling rain was directed into a shattered window. One lone silhouette could be seen backed against the dying flames, and Number Six's throat clenched at the sight. Water clones danced in and out of the window frame, everything they touched extinguishing instantly even as they themselves evaporated. Zexion assumed the rain was accidentally misdirected through the window he was near as he felt a drop run down his cheek.
Demyx found Zexion sitting on the edge of the walkway in the Hall of Empty Melodies an hour later, just staring into the oblivion below them. In an unusually serious tone he asked, "What happened Zexion? You're not careless enough to let that come to pass," concern was etched onto his face, accompanying the rare bout of observation. Zexion took in a hitched breath, having tossed away his normal facade of indifference the moment he saw Demyx in the window. Considering what the man had just risked, Zexion supposed it was not the time for his normal illusions.
Again, that jealous ingrate has been sneaking around my rooms, Zexion thought as he caught Axel's scent near his bed. No doubt he was looking for proof of this clandestine affair he's conceived within his demented mind. Well, maybe I'll leave him a little something for his next excursion into my privacy. The schemer then sat in wait for his fellow organization member to spring the trap.
The door Zexion left ajar allowed him just enough of a scent, warning him of the assassins approach. Moving his hands quickly, and reading from his Lexicon, the illusion flowed from his mind more easily than he had anticipated. There on the bed, as Axel's head poked through the crack in the door, was Zexion moaning loudly in ecstasy while Demyx thrust violently into him. A smirk of satisfaction graced the real Zexion's face as he saw the tendrils of smoke rising from Axel's finger tips. He ended the illusion as soon as the other man had stormed back down the hallway. The quirk of his lips fell when his eyes roamed back to the bed, a crease forming on his brow as an unbidden thought returned to the forefront of his mind.
The masterpiece of an illusion ended with Demyx's chin drooping farther than Zexion imagined possible.
"Well, that was dumb," he grinned with boyish charm, "You could have at least given him a real show if you wanted to piss him off."
An indignant scoff left Zexion's mouth as he concealed the light tint running down his neck. Slight surprise managed its way past his mask however, as something in his chest gave a painful thump. The scene changed with a soft melody.
In the darkened doorway behind them, a cloaked figure stood, only visible in a sudden flicker of flame.