Lucky
So far, it had been a good day, despite being a day that most would call "unlucky". It was Friday the 13th and all was quiet in the halls of the Castle. Why? Because everyone in their wrong mind had locked themselves in their rooms for fear that stepping outside would cause pianos to fall from the sky, or some such nonsense; thanks to their stupidity, the Castle was silent and peaceful for a change.
The first thing he decided to do to celebrate the overall peacefulness was to grab an old novel from the library and settle himself down at the kitchen table. And today, nobody could stop him from finding the marshmallows and the cookies and nobody could stop him from sitting in the only comfortable chair in the room- it was the blue chair usually reserved for the Superior at meal times- and nobody could stop him from reading his book in peace. So he proceeded to do all of those things, and, as a matter of fact, nobody stopped him.
Nothing went better with peace and quiet than books, and nothing went better with books than marshmallows and cookies. Nothing about today spelled bad luck. In fact, he thought, today couldn't get much better.
And then he was hit with an annoying scent that he knew all too well, not even 30 pages into his book. The door managed to push itself open, and the loud footsteps were enough to drive him crazy, but he ignored it, because nobody would ruin his luck today; nobody would stop him from eating as many marshmallows and cookies as he pleased, and nobody would stop him from sitting in the comfy blue chair, and nobody would stop him from reading his book.
"So, Zexy, do you know what day it is?" He had the nerve to sit on the table and grab a handful of marshmallows from the bag. "It's Friday the 13th, Zexy. You know what they say about bad luck and all."
Ignore him, and he'll go away. It always works that way doesn't it? So he grabbed another cookie and ignored the blonde, because he didn't believe in bad luck.
"Ya know, Zexy, too much sugar is bad for you," he smiled, leaning over from where he was seated on the table and biting off half of the cookie in a way that shouldn't have made him blush, but oddly enough, it did, and he buried his face in the book to hide it.
It seems like his luck had all but run out.
"I wonder if you taste this sweet right now, Zexy…," he regarded for a moment, feigning a thoughtful expression and trying to gently tug the book away. "Think I might just find out." And he did proceed to find out.
And, Zexion decided, today was definitely an unlucky day, even if the blonde did taste better than marshmallows ever would. He didn't want it to end, but at the same time, he wanted it to end before it even started.
Because today was supposed be peaceful. Nobody could stop him from eating cookies and marshmallows, and nobody could stop him from sitting in the comfy blue chair, and nobody could stop him from reading his book. Nobody except for Demyx.
And he almost didn't notice, but the door swung open and a young blonde Nobody stood in the doorway and gaped and stuttered and almost dropped the two half-melted popsicles he was holding. IX leaned back and waved to the intruder, greeting him warmly as thought nothing had happened, and VI buried his face in the book again.
As quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut, and the sound of stunned and hurried footsteps faded into the background.
"Annoying you is always so much fun, Zexy. You're too cute when you're all blushy like that."
Zexion silently cursed his luck as he glared at the faded print of the book, because, today, he couldn't decide whether he was lucky or not.
Author's Notes:
This is sloppy and rushed, and so fluffy that I might just go into a sugar comma
It's a companion fic to Unlucky, and oddly enough, it took me longer to write that than to write this. I finished this in a stunning 2 hours! =O
And, of course, I only got it done that quickly with the help of three pieces of wonderfully melty peanut butter pie. If it weren't for that, this would've been a boring and monotone story like the rest of my crap! XD
Disclaimer: I don't own anything, I swear! I don't even own a bag of marshamallows!
This is about 70 words less than Unlucky… just thought I'd point that out
