Xaldin sat in the gray room late at night sometimes, all alone. He would think about everything that had happened to him in all his years of living – both as Xaldin and Dilan. He sighed on this particular March evening after everyone else had gone to bed. Tonight, alone didn't seem to be what he wanted. It almost seemed like… like he wanted company.

He didn't particularly like anyone in the organization, except Lexaeus, who even after ten years of being friends, was still nice to share silence with. They had met when Aeleus became an apprentice of Ansem, and Dilan had offered to become his first friend. They guarded the entrance every day, and even ended up throwing a couple kids out once in a while. Those kids later ended up becoming nobodies as well, but… that was beside the point.

He shrugged away the memories of past friendships. He liked being alone for one reason or another, so, why did it feel like he wanted to talk? Talking and expressing himself were two things Xaldin never did much of. Sighing, he stood up to walk around the castle he now called 'home'. Why he went – he wasn't sure, but standing felt good on his legs. He walked by himself, staring into nothingness.

Without even realizing where he had gone, Xaldin heard a door open a shut behind him. He turned to see who'd appeared, and saw a tall blonde man striding toward him.

Luxord smiled, and almost seemed to glide over to the older man. "Xaldin, what are you up so late for?" He asked, his thick accent prominent as always.

"Can't sleep." He stated, voice rough and unfriendly. Xaldin just wasn't a friendly people person like Luxord. He never had been, and as a nobody, he was more reserved than ever.

Luxord nodded. "Me either. I don't know what's wrong with me… Dreams've been keeping me awake."

"I see. Same with me as well." He looked away from the handsome Englishman. He wondered why someone should ever look so good… so… striking. Luxord's face looked as if it had been carved from a precious stone, and his eyes were an endless sea of cerulean.

Shaking out of the trance, Xaldin wondered why he was always so distracted by the younger man. At meetings, on missions, and even at dinner. He had created excuses that it was purely because Luxord appreciated his cooking, or that he was a great sparing partner. Neither satisfied his subconscious though, seeing that the dreams kept him awake; dreams filled with number Ten, and Xaldin didn't know why.

"Well, what a shame." Luxord breathed easily. "Hey," he began, "is there any coffee left, do you think?"

"I wouldn't know."

"Ah, I see. Well while I check, would you mind keeping my company?" Luxord offered, unknowing that he was the cause of Three's tormented nights.

"Sure." He stated, almost seeming happy to oblige. For once he wasn't alone at night. For once he wasn't dreaming.

To Xaldin, he knew that they didn't have hearts, that nobodies couldn't feel. However, he also thought that the memories of the emotions were still there. He also believed that thought these memories, some – like Demyx – could feel the remnants of emotion. He however, was not so lucky.

Dilan had loved, feared, and hated all before. This was nothing new. Dilan wasn't a very expressive or emotional person, so when Xaldin was created, the memory of whatever sliver of emotion left was nearly obsolete. The only prominent feelings left were yearning and hate.

Dilan had been hurt – heartbroken – just before becoming a nobody. All he wanted was to be loved, and in return, his heart was handed back to him, and promptly shoved down his throat.

They arrived in the castle's kitchen, and Luxord tapped the coffee machine. "Looks like there's a few cups left." He smiled at Xaldin who grimaced. Ignoring the scowl, Luxord poured himself a cup of black silk, and looked to the other man. "Did you want a cup?"

He nodded sullenly, figuring it would do his depressing thoughts well. "Sure." Luxord handed him the cup that he'd originally poured and got his own. Xaldin walked to the fridge and grabbed the half-and-half with a brusque grip.

"You know, you always seem… so lonely, Xaldin."Luxord stated dryly. "Just… alone." Xaldin looked at him and raised a thick black eyebrow.

"Why do you say that?" He asked, masking his sorrow.

Luxord shrugged. "You are always quiet and alone. You hate when the word 'love' is even mentioned… why?" Patiently he gazed into Xaldin's amethyst blue eyes, grinning.

"…" Xaldin didn't know what to say. "What does it matter?" he asked hastily, looking away.

"Because I'd like to know. We are friends, after all." He paused. "Aren't we?"

Xaldin continued staring at the floor. "When your heart is served to you on a golden platter the day you propose to someone, it makes you bitter."

"I… I see." Luxord smiled. "I understand… you know…"

Xaldin looked up, patiently awaiting more. "What?" He asked bitterly.

"I could change that." Luxord smirked at Xaldin with a smile that sent Three's head spinning. What a stunning man… He thought. "You don't have to be lonely anymore."

"What do you mean?" Growing more anxious and impatient by the second, Xaldin urged him on.

"That I can prove not everyone will make you bitter, or kill all your emotion. You've seen Demyx and Xigbar, right? You, no – we could be happy like them…" Now Luxord was the one looking away. "I've seen the way you stare, and how you almost lighten up when I'm around… You don't notice, but you do the same to me."

Xaldin stood, shocked at what he was hearing. Could this really be happening to him? "I… really? Is that so, Luxord? You think I make you feel again?" Xaldin's voice turned stern and rough.

Luxord looked up at him. "Yes." Smirking, he knew what Xaldin was doing.

Xaldin needed to hear nothing more than that. Within two seconds he realized that all he wanted was another chance. Love didn't make him weak. It made him strong. He knew this because the second Luxord's answer was clear, he felt a surging in his chest and a swelling where his heart should be. "Good." Was all he answered back, before wrapping arms around the blonde gambler, and locking lips like he always dreamt he would.

A dream coming true shows the way to happy days in the arms of lovers.

Of course, Xaldin knew this now; he and Luxord would never be kept awake by these dreams again, but put to a soft sleep in each others arms.