The Illusion of a Storm
"... Do you agree to these terms?"
Zexion Silverwind stared at the contract in his left hand, his emotionless left eye fixed on the simple signature line beside his thumb. Silence reigned over the man of twenty-seven years, soothing his need for peace. A sigh escaped his parted lips.
"If only these things did not exist... but i guess one's wishes will never come true, no matter how much that person desires them."
The sound of thunder met the Male's ears, scattering his thoughts. A flash of lightning illuminated the bedroom of night, casting shadows upon the walls the colour of chalk. Zexion set the thin and plain white object down upon the thick blanket of the futon bed fit for two, easing himself up and onto the royal blue carpet beneath his feet. A click was heard as he twisted his neck roughly, causing a hand to rise to meet the aching area.
"I guess he was right about that."
His feet shuffled along the carpet, pausing for a large fragment of a second before resuming movement, exiting the small bedroom.
Continuing down the small hall and into the main room, Zexion made his way silently into the small kitchen cut off from the living room by a simple row of counters, bending down to search through the cupboards.
Seconds passed, and soon, a full minuet. The man let out an annoyed grunt at his failure of finding what he wanted.
"Don't tell me there's none left..." Zexion muttered, his smooth voice lingering in the air for no more than a second. His right hand glided over various objects, stopping at the feel of a paper bag, instantly diving inside for his prize, though it was not what he was expecting.
Pulling his arm out and looking over the item with his left eye of cobalt, the other hidden along with the right side of his face by deep silver locks dangling down to the base of his neck, clumped together in a messy fashion. Dew seeds. A small plastic bag filled with tear-shaped candy.
"Maybe i should cut down, just a little." His stomach growled, clearly against his suggestion.
"Or perhaps not, though another trip to the dentist is only around the corner with these." He shrugged, knowing that his slight addiction to anything sweet would always get the better of him.
The sound of a wooden door opening reached Zexion's ears, causing him to turn his head in the direction of the cursed creaks, the bathroom, where he watched as young Ienzo of eleven years exited said room, rubbing his left eye with a small, poorly curled up fist, his right hidden away behind platinum locks, much like he other, though smooth, thin, and shorter.
"Did the storm wake you, honey?"
Ienzo nodded slightly, bringing his hand down to rest at his side. It was no surprise to the other, not at all. It had always been this way ever since the boy was nothing more than a mere two-year-old. A distant rumble of thunder rolled through the raven skies above the Silverwind home, causing young Ienzo to shake slightly, almost unnoticeable.
"You'll have to go to the dentist, again." His small voice was but just a whisper hiding within the sounds of the storm.
It was nothing short of the truth. It had happened before, with just the simple help of a cola cube and an already damaged tooth. A trip to the cursed building that held the scent of latex gloves and other items was needed. To say the least, Zexion's stomach performed many back-flips that day. He could have sold tickets.
"Maybe i should be in charge of my stomach, and not the other way around. Though second place will always have my name on it." A deep sigh ended his words, bare feet shifting as the man stood.
"Go on back to bed, honey. The storm might very well stay put for a few more hours to come."
Ienzo let out a small, turned his fragile body, and started the small walk to the comfort of his warm bedroom and soft bed, leaving the other in the darkness of the kitchen to decide on what to do next.
A growl, both pathetic and saddening. Zexion muttered not one word and simply obeyed his stomach, opening the small bag in his palm before selecting a tear drop-shaped crimson rock from its contents, pushing it into the opening through his lips and slamming his upper jaw shut, shattering the solid candy.
"Ow..." The word faded away, a hand rising to a cheek. Zexion swallowed and began a silent walk to his haven.
Once inside his "happy place" as it was commonly called, the man resumed his place upon his bed as soft as a sponge filled with water, grabbed the hated contract and began to read its words once again.
A solid hour had passed. Zexion let his head fall to meet the many pillows behind him, frustration plastered across his pale face.
"I hate these things." Before his words could vanish from his ears, thunder entered, shaking the fine glass of the single window to his right. A bolt of lightning, seen even through the black curtains in the distance, and light was once again brought upon the walls. Cobalt eyes closed as Zexion let his head fall to the side. A yawn echoed to the walls.
"Daddy...?"
The man stirred, opening his eyes halfway. Such a timid voice and that one small word could only have come from his beloved son. The storm had indeed woken him, again. But... was that something to be surprised by? The answer was just as obvious.
Forcing the upper half of his skinny, but otherwise healthy body up into a sitting position, he could almost clearly see his only child standing in the doorway, his left hand grasping the silver door handle. The amount of emotion in his only visible eye. Only a man without a heart could say no.
"Come on, honey."
Moving inside and closing the door, Ienzo made his way to his father's bed, taking a seat beside the other. The first thing the boy noticed was the amount of paper scattered across the bed. There was never this many.
"Are they giving you more work again?"
"Mostly because my IQ far surpasses all others."
"That's not fair."
Zexion stretched his right arm around his son, stroking Ienzo's own with his soft hand. The simplest ways of comfort worked like charms. Then again, Ienzo was a simple child. Different from others, yes. But still simple.
"You just have to ignore it, very much like a storm. Just an illusion to distract you from your goal."
A storm... an illusion? That certainly did not make sense to the young Silverwind. An illusion was nothing but a trick to fool the mind. A storm was far different than that. Thunder and lightning, rain and dark clouds, harsh winds.
"But an illusion is just a trick." Ienzo's voice held much confusion. It seemed not to understand much at all. His father was always an expert with these things.
Zexion dove into the small Dew Seeds bag, pulling out one of the remaining pieces of rock candy, before placing it in his son's palm. He always needed to have sapphire, never green, blue or red.
"Well, an illusion is something that is designed to fool others, to play tricks on them and distract them from their goals. This storm is distracting you from your goal, which is sleep."
Ienzo looked down upon what his father gave him, and upon seeing that it was a sapphire shade, slid it into the darkness of his mouth. He needed to have sapphire, no other colour tasted the same.
"Illusions trick you into being afraid, much like thunder, even though there actually isn't anything to fear."
"... But what about the lightning? That can hurt you and destroy. Illusions can't do that."
Zexion stayed silent.
"Okay, so they are not so alike after all."
"Told you."
"But they still do half the job."
"But not the whole job."
Had he been outsmarted? By his son? The smile on Ienzo's face told him yes. He was not as smart as he thought he was.
"Okay then, smart one." The man wrapped his arms around his son and pulled him into the space between his legs.
"Thunder is the illusion of a storm. Happy now?"
"Not really."
"Tch, just like with Dew Seeds."
"They taste different."
"Do not."
"Do too."
"Do not."
A frown formed upon the father's face. He could never win. With a "humph", he lowered his head and pressed his lips to Ienzo's forehead in a loving, but annoyed kiss.
"I think it is bedtime for you."
"You're supposed to be in bed too."
Yes, he was, or did always switch off the lights at eleven in the night. However, it was far past that. Zexion looked over the many sheets of paper scattered about the bed. Some of them were still devoid of his approval, which he could not allow.
"Blame the paper." He muttered as Ienzo moved from in between his legs to the pillows, slipping his body under the blanket of dark colours.
"They're inanimate objects."
"I have to blame something."
"You choose to."
Knowing that this battle was already won by his child, the father admitted defeat and gathered the papers into a pile before pulling the blanket back and crawling in. He could never win with this one.
"How about we both just blame the illusion of the storm?"
"Just the thunder."
Ienzo laid his head on his father's right shoulder while an arm wrapped itself around his frame.
"Fine."
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It was supposed to be shorter... but, meh.
Might not be as good as you were expecting, but i tried.