Emotional raindrops

I hear music. He's playing again. A love song, I bet. A sad love song, about his deep love for me. Love. As if. I've told him over and over again that us Nobodies, we can't feel love. In fact, we can't feel nothing. Not that it stops him from telling me he loves me every time he sees me. Love. It's not real, but he can't see that. Somehow he's managed to confuse physical attraction with emotion. He does play beautifully, though.
I feel like weeping every time he plays. I don't know why. How is it possible for a person without emotions to have a desire to weep? I don't know. But then again, all I know is what I've read, and the books don't say nothing about us Nobodies.
They do say a lot about love, though. Some books say that it doesn't exist. I don't really like those books. I like love stories with soul mates and all that. Preferably with a sad ending, though. As much as I hate to admit it, I do love the clichés. I used to hate the whole star-crossed lovers plot, but it has grown on me. Same goes for the stories that end with the hero dying some kind of brave and heroic death.
However, I haven't read nothing that's even remotely similar to the situation Demyx and I are in. It seems there aren't no books about one person mistaking physical attraction for love, and one person who knows that neither of them have emotions. I'm not surprised. After all, our circumstances are quite unique.
I wish he would just accept that what he thinks he feels for me isn't real. If he came to me and told me he wanted to have a sex with me, I'd jump him on the spot. I can't have no affair with him as long as he thinks he's in love. I don't want no relationship built on an illusion.

I sit outside his room. I often do when he plays. I like to have music in the background when I read. Today I don't read, though. I sit there with my book open, but I rest my head against the wall and get lost in the music. I can't decide whether the music fills me or surrounds me. It feel like I'm floating in the gently sounds from the other side of the wall, but at the same time it feels like the music inside me. It fills every part of me, from my toes to my fingertips, to my head. The music inside me is centered somewhere in the vicinity of solar plexus. The music surrounding me is caressing my shoulders and arms.
I don't understand how he can put so much sadness in his music. How can he express a feeling he doesn't have? Perhaps it's the memories. He might remember his Somebody's emotions. I do, but not very clearly. I remember events more than I remember feelings. I may very well be the other way around for him.
I don't notice that the music stops, I'm too lost in my own thoughts. I jump when he opens the door.
"Merde!" I exclaim before I can catch myself. He turns around, slightly surprised to find me sitting outside his door.
"Why do you swear in French?" he asks. I tell him I don't know. He laughs a bit and tells me he thought I knew everything. He asks what I was doing outside his door. I tell him that I wanted to listen to his music while I read. Not that I got around to do much reading. In fact, I haven't read nothing at all.

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Don't worry, this is a prologue. The chapters will be longer.

I promised someone I'd write a happy Zemyx (yes, the narrator is Zexion. Oh big surprise). I don't know if this will be happy, but I'll try. Can't promise anything, though. I very seldom know where my stories are going before they're finished. This has the potential to become a royal bunch of fluff, but it also has the potential to become the saddest story I've ever written.

I tried to give myself a bit of challenge with the language. I wrote this in my one-shot style, but this will be a long story. I wonder how long I can keep it up. I also used slightly more slangy grammar. I use no slangy words, and I figured this could very easily end up way too formal, so I decided to use the double negations. Who said that everyone's favorite little emo kid has to have perfect language?

And no, I don't have an explanation to why he swears in French. I think it will be one of his little oddities, that he uses words and phrases from other languages. I do that a lot, I use lots and lots of English words (remember that I speak mostly Norwegian IRL), and I swear in German and French. It's just these little habits I have.

I have no idea what the title means P