This is Axel's point of view.

For those of you not acquainted with Xekira: She's an OC made by my daughter, Shannon. She's a bundle of angst because Axel killed her parents and is responsible for her becoming a Nobody. Though the actual fire Axel set that killed her parents was an accident, he's become obsessed with her pain ever since. He has a sick sort of love for her, and thinks she's most beautiful when she's miserable.

Xekira is married to Zexion ;D

You know I love being with you and seeing you cry.

Crimson only looks good on you, I think as I wipe the sticky red liquid on my coat. I've long since come to realize that other people's pain just can't do for me what yours does. In fact, I even get trace of a guilty conscience when I hurt people other than you. It's only your anguish that brings a twisted smile to my lips.

We're not falling in love.

I listen to the rocks outside scatter as your car pulls up. I switch off the light for effect, and sit in the shallow puddle of scarlet fluid on the floor. I fight the grin of anticipation itching its way onto my lips. I can't wait to see your face. It's like a surprise party.

I hear your light footsteps dart up the stairs. You're so happy; I'm getting butterflies just thinking of the way your stomach will flop when you see what I've done. You thought I took it all away before, but you're in for a rude awakening. You were so certain I'd taken everything that I could, but you were wrong. I'll just keep taking until there's nothing left.

"Zexion, I'm home," you chirp, your voice ringing like bells. Why are you always so fucking happy when you talk to him? Your voice creates a current in me, like I've been zapped with electricity. Some call it jealousy, but I call it a genuine disdain for anything that causes you anything but pain.

Not that it matters, anymore.

You push open the door, squinting in the darkness. You've been out in the sunlight; you don't see me at first, or what I've done. I have to bite my lip to keep back the cherubic giggle that's erupting in the back of my throat. You flick on the light.

You scream.

We're just falling apart.

I let you scream long and hard, laying back nonchalantly as though watching the weather channel. Finally, between choking tearless sobs, you whisper, "…Axel…why?" Your shoulders are heaving and you're almost hyperventilating. I watch your thin legs shake, as though suddenly the burdens of the world have become too much for two legs to bear.

And finally, the tears come. Like pearls, they slide down your face and onto your lips, their saline taste like salt to your open wounds. Every part of me feels alive, watching you die inside.

I stand to my feet and walk over to you. Usually you cringe when I approach you, but today you only stare. As I come closer, I watch the grief give way to something else—anger. You hate me. I hate you.

…You love me, though.

I love you, though.

Zexion is dead, and his blood is on my hands. And yet even now, you love me.

Even as your spouse lays on the floor, the life ripped from him by my bare hands, you know in the deepest confines of your being that deep down, you can never fully hate me. Deep down, there's always a part that will love me unconditionally, even if I take everything away. You know that, and I know that.

And so, I always do.

"Why, you ask?" I say, finally releasing my Cheshire cat smile. "You still need to ask?"

"…He never did anything to you," you whimper. "Your fetish is with me, Axel."

"He got in the way."

"Of what?" you hiss, bitterly.

"Me and you," I reply, voicing my jealousy for the first time.

"You're sick," you say through the knot in your throat.

"And you're the only medicine that has ever worked," I say, taking a step closer.

You shove me, trying to push past me to your now deceased husband. Still you're going to that bastard! I grab your wrists, stopping you. I force an arm around your waist, pulling you close to me. Your body is taut, but you're too weak to fight. More tears spill from your eyes, and you can't look me in the face.

"Why, Axel? Why do you take everything away?"

"Because," I reply, cupping your chin in my hand, "When you have nothing, I'll be your everything."

"You're nothing to me!" you hiss, your voice shrill. You squirm in my arms. I scowl fiercely, disgusted. I throw a punch, and my fist connects with your face. I wasn't even going to hit you tonight. You fall to the floor in a heap, weeping.

"I have nothing," you whisper, glancing up at me.

"You have me," I say, kneeling beside you.

You look up at me, with big sad eyes, and for the first time I think you really get it.

I'm all you'll ever have.

So don't let go.

Merry Christmas, Musume

Daddy lovessss you.