I've been trying to finish this one for a while, and I finally got it wrong. The title comes from a Cradle Of Filth song. I'm really not a fan, but I heard one of their songs and that line sort of stuck out. So here it is; I hope you enjoy it! Revies are greatly appreciated, I'd love to know know what you thought of it! :)

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts, of course.

[7 years old]

The afternoon scene might have seemed similar to picture book scenes for some, but in reality it was far from it. What should have been a nice, sunny afternoon was a gloomy, cloudy day, and while most of the children were laughing and playing happily, there was one boy with a mood to match the weather.

His lilac hair blew around his face in the wind, as he frowned at the others. It was nothing new, unnoticed by the rest of the passing kids in the playground. Alone, he sat on one of the two swings, like he usually did. The other kids avoided him, though he liked to think he wasn't as perturbed by this as he really was. It's not that he enjoyed the remotely minded the loneliness; he just didn't really know what he was missing out on.

He was only 7 at the time, so he had plenty of time, anyway. Right?

"But muuuum, I don't want to!" His attention was grabbed by a young boy about the same age as him, who was attempting to struggle against his mother, "he's scary!"

A couple of heads turned to the lonely boy on the swing, including the mother, who had sent a sympathetic look his way before chasing after her whining son. He tried to ignore it, but he couldn't hide the slight disappointment he felt at not having even one friend to socialise with - not even one acquaintance. After a while the sun was starting to set, and the crowd of kids was beginning to thin out as they leave for home.

He swung back and forth a couple of inches, admiring the colours of the sunset. Yet again, no one had come to accompany him on the swings, and he tried to feel indifferent about it. But he couldn't. No matter how much he tried to deny it, it was always at the back of his mind.

As he caught two blue spots out of the corner of his eye, he looked up and saw someone looking at him.

A blonde that, from what he had observed, was fairly popular amongst the kids.

But something was different – he was smiling.

[…]

It was a day later and, again, he was swinging his usual lazy pace of a few inches while watching the others. His eyes subconsciously scanned the playground for the blonde haired boy, with no such luck. As soon as he had felt the disappointment in his stomach, he realised what he had been doing and was overcome by confusion.

Why was he searching for someone who had merely looked at him? To him, it didn't make sense. But then again, a lot of things didn't.

Like that, even though his time there was wasted on wishful thinking of company, he still stayed. Right now, his better judgment was telling him to go home, but he just wondered why he didn't just go home already, but before he could ponder it much he felt an impact with the back of his head. Whirling around immediately, he felt the irritation well up in his stomach as a coloured object lands on the ground, but stops dead when he is faced with familiar green-y blue eyes and blonde hair, slightly taller than him when both were at their full height.

"Hi, I'm sorry, could I please have my ball back?" The blonde boy asked shyly, looking at the ground.

"I guess…" The other bent down to get the coloured ball and passed it, expecting him to bolt immediately. When he saw him just standing there, the lilac haired boy looked at him suspiciously, before the awkward silence was broken.

"…My name's Demyx… What's yours?" The blonde asked and, for a moment, the shorter boy did not know whether to answer the question properly, or to ignore him like the rest.

"I'm Zexion." He stood there lamely, not knowing what to say – it's not like he was practiced and this or anything, anyway. The awkward silence stretched on for what seemed like ages, but was soon broken when a tall woman approached Demyx.

"Hi there, sweety, who's this?" She bent down and smiled kindly to the boy, and after a moment the resemblance is strikingly obvious.

"Hi mum! This is Zexion! He's so nice, he gave me my ball back!" Demyx enthusiastically waved the ball in front of her face and smiled excitedly, and she laughed and smiled at Zexion.

"Wow, really? Did you remember to say thank you?" She questions, one neat eyebrow quirked, and Demyx merely looks at the ground, ashamed.

"Oh… sorry, mum…" The boy mutters, and turns back to Zexion, face wrought with seriousness. "Thank you for getting my ball back, Zexion!"

"Umm, it's okay." Zexion tried to smile slightly, and found it was easier than with other people. Upon seeing the faint curve of his lips, Demyx smiled brightly and, for once, Zexion thought his life had just changed for the best. This was not including the jealousy that filled him upon seeing the concern the woman gave his son, as they walked off.

[…]

As his father dropped him off at the park as usual, he wondered if he felt left out because he was the only dad at the park. But his thoughts dissolve into nothingness as he sees something in at his swing, on his seat, in his area.

Someone's in his spot, and he's frustrated and angry, yet thrilled at the same time. But when he saw the familiar dirty blonde, mullet-like hair, it is all replaced with excitement. As he approaches the taller boy, he felt a wave of nervousness at the thought of having a friend. Of not having someone avoid him like the rest.

"Hi Zexion! I thought it would be cool if we hung out today. What do you think?" The blonde was excited and smiling as usual, and Zexion knew that they were complete opposites – he was so determined not to mess it up.

"Oh, yeah" Zexion replied awkwardly, and chose to sit in the swing next to Demyx.

The silence spread on, until Demyx tilted his head in Zexion's direction and replied, curiously, "Hey Zexion, if you don't really talk to anyone here, why do you keep coming?"

Zexion knew he didn't mean to be so blunt, but cannot help the feeling stabbing at his stomach. "Because my dad has to go to work", he replied, a little harsher than he meant.

"Why doesn't your mum take care of you then?" Demyx has halted his swinging and was serious, as if he was trying to work out something confusing in his mind.

"Mum's dead." Was the blunt mumble that escaped from the lilac-haired boy's lips, and although he said it himself, he still felt it stab at him. Staring at the ground for a moment, he dazed into a daydream, until he felt Demyx pull him into a hug.

"Aww, I'm sorry!" The blonde boy let go, leaving the other boy dumbfounded at the sudden movement. "But, well, why don't you hang out with me, it would be fun!"

"Sure, it would." Zexion replied after an instant, and for the first time in what seemed like forever, he was actually proud of himself.

[15 years old]

In ninth grade, Zexion had realised that popularity was not everything, and that his life really had not made a change for the best. For all these years, he had spent so long trying to make friends, that he had neglected his family – or lack thereof. His dad, his only carer, was sick, and there was nothing left to do. No hope that he would live, or that Zexion would live an ordinary, fun teenage life. Sure, his grades were good, but they were nothing to help the current situation.

Zexion's life was stressful, and his blonde haired friend was the only one that could make it bearable.

His best friend. His Demyx, that was friends with everyone. Demyx that had already had a girlfriend, and now having trouble finding the time to comfort Zexion.

As he sat at the lunch table, alone, he watched the blonde talking to his friends and girlfriend. He looked like he was having so much fun, and Zexion felt the jealousy well up in his stomach as he wished that it really was just that easy.

When their eyes unintentionally met, he sucked in a breath and forced a smile, receiving one in return. Feeling happy that he had not been forgotten by his friend, he let out the warm breath and felt reassurance at the pit of his stomach. But then Demyx waved for him to come over, and he had to decline that with a simple shake of the head, thinking, 'He doesn't really want me to come, he's just polite. And nice, maybe even too nice. Too nice to deserve me, anyway'.

Caught up in his dismal thoughts, he was too preoccupied to notice the disappointed and uncharacteristic frown etched across Demyx's face that would've normally given him an inkling of surprise. Now he would just wave it off, thinking he was mistaken.

'There's no reason he would still like to talk to me, I must seem so cold to him. Like a complete opposite.'

He didn't really know that Demyx really did miss his company, and while they were opposites, they still fitted perfectly together, as if balancing out their differences to create the perfect pair.

[16 years old]

In tenth grade, it would have seemed that persistency was on his side. Demyx, as popular as ever, still valued his friendship with the lilac haired boy, who had no idea why. Not that he was complaining, though – the chance to walk home with the only one that would befriend him was most likely the highlight of his day, and he felt like all his troubles had been cured.

As the two walked down the path and stopped just before the path to Zexion's house, turning towards his frowning companion.

"So, Zexy! Got anything planned?" He asked, but figured it might seem that he wanted to organise something, so after a quick smirk he added, "Lot's of homework, I bet."

"Yep. And I have to practice piano." The other replied; he had become more serious about the instrument, as it would help him relax and take his mind off things. The blonde just thought he was doing it for the grades.

"Oh, cool. You know, I reckon you'll be famous for it one day!" Demyx said with one of his signature smiles, and for a moment, Zexion wondered how he could do it so easily.

"Well thanks, but I better go now." Zexion mumbled, and was surprised to find himself enveloped in a hug from the taller male. "See you tomorrow."

"Bye, Zex!" And just like that, Demyx left the boy to finally walk up to his house, dumbfounded by the gesture. He thought about how long they had been friends, and why Demyx would still be friends with him. He decided it was just because he felt obliged to, or pitiful of him.

Later that evening, his dad still not back from his checkup at the cancer clinic, Zexion found himself back in his room, playing his beloved instrument. His fingers flowed over the black and white keys, playing the sweetly melancholic melody, capturing his concentration from anything else. But after a while his peaceful state of mind faltered, and an incorrect note flowed from his fingers, barely noticeable amongst the correct ones.

But, like a lot of other things, it was enough to offset his balance, and he paused, groaning in frustration, and paused, before slamming his hands, fully outstretched, on as many keys as he could, biting his tongue at the effort and letting a slightly satisfied smile creep across his face.

He loved the inconsistency of it all, letting the notes intertwine to create the boisterous, mismatching chords. But somehow they managed to work to fuel his passion. He loved how he could be in control of something, creating it however he liked. And his feelings gushed into the black and white keys beneath his fingers, and out into the music surrounding him, on display to anyone that cared to listen.

But in the end he couldn't stop the surge of emotion running through him, the anger making him hot and flustered, and he let out a strangled scream which wracked the whole house, dissolving into choked sobs. They carried on for what seemed like hours, until he was delirious from the lack of steady air reaching his brain.

Although the curtains were drawn, Demyx could see through the cracks into the room, watching what he could of the other's happenings. It just about stabbed out his stomach, but he quickly tried to concentrate on something else before it could affect him much, so he would not be stuck thinking about it all day. But it just kept nagging at his brain until he felt too flustered to think straight, and turned into his bed early for sleep.

[18 years old]

Zexion was standing in his room with the other, fumbling over thoughts and trying to comprehend what had just occurred.

"Your father passed away this afternoon. I'm very sorry." The words replayed endlessly in his head, as he tried to block them out.

He had nothing left. His father had finally died, and he had no one, except the tall blonde teen next to him. He could not think straight, so he did the boldest thing he could. He placed a short, chaste kiss right onto the other's lips, but instantly panicked when he realised just the extent of what he had done.

It felt so wrong, but right at the same time. It just about broke Demyx's heart to reject the other, but he had to do so; he thought it was just like a rebound. After such a thing had happened, the lilac-haired boy would want affection, wouldn't he?

"Zexion… why did you do that?" He spoke softly, after swallowing; the boy in question tried to think of any honest answer for this, and before he knew it, he was drowning in the possibilities, any choice of speech. He could imagine them; they were dancing a waltz in the lonesome moonlight, they were walking hand in hand on a beach during the sunset, they were kissing in the rain, him on his toes, reaching up to the blonde man. So many other clichéd scenes fluttered through his mind, reminding him of what he would never have. But by the time he looked into those sky-blue eyes, they were all lost.

He was fumbling over words and frantically figuring what to say, but on the outside he just gaped. He turned to what he knew best – lonesome silence – and kneeled, curling into a ball.

"Here, let me help you. I'm sorry." The blonde teen tried to reason with him, before jumping back at the sudden lashing out from the other.

"Don't touch me!" The shorter of the two choked out and tried to claw at the other, before inhaling a long, shaky breath and hastily running off, realising just how lonely he was.

[…]

Desperate for company and an excuse to avoid Demyx, Zexion had finally made a friend. With an unusual array of red, spiky hair, Axel was perky and fun, sometimes too much of a reminder of his former best friend.

They had only known each other for a few weeks, but Zexion was already considering him as a replacement for the blonde man, even if deep down, he knew that no one could ever replace him. It was like no matter where he went, the memories of the blonde boy would be evoked, and there would never be anything he could do to stop it.

One day, as the two were sitting alone on a park bench and chatting casually, Axel stated out of nowhere, "Hey I've been thinking, I think I know a way to make you happier. You know, cheer you up." He had smiled that typical smile of his, and Zexion had instantly turned his head to face the other's. It almost sounded as if it had been planned previously, but Zexion was slightly too mesmerised to care.

He had never been much of an optimistic person, but he had to know that there was someone out there who could love him, if even only a little bit. He could pretend, even if it would ruin him.

A connection between Demyx's curious sea-blue eyes and Axel's slightly amused green ones was made, a mere flicker unnoticed by the other boy, but it was enough to show everything.

But for Zexion, it had seemed like some sort of way out, and for once it felt so nice to just have that attention.

[19 years old]

As the autumn leaves fell slowly and delicately, the lilac-haired man scowled deeply at the sun. He was on his first mission for him unaccompanied, and he was thankful for the fact that he could be alone for a while.

This wasn't how it was meant to be. He should have known that any deal of the sort would be too good to be true, and yet he accepted, ignoring every life lesson he had ever learnt.

They told him he didn't have a heart, that he couldn't truly feel like he used to be able to. He missed the rhythmic beats, which he had often relied on to remind him he was, in fact, human; but now, he just didn't know anymore. He felt like a freak, despite that he shouldn't actually feel.

They told him he shouldn't even exist. But was he really meant to, in the first place? Would anyone really notice he was gone? Did his existence really have any prominent effect on anyone else in the world?

But there's always a way out. There had to be somewhere he belonged. The distance, a young man with a blonde faux-Mohawk watched with almost-tearful eyes, knowing that the person he belonged with was him, but refusing to admit it. He knew that there was something wrong with the shorter man, but he just couldn't tell what it was.

He missed the Demyx so much, no matter how ashamed he was to admit it, and it just made him feel as incomplete as people said he would be without his heart.

And he could slowly feel himself crumpling apart like those dry leaves beneath his feet, yet he pretended to be fine, because for what the rest of the world knew, he was fine, absolutely fucking peachy.

[…]

"So, you're missing Zexion." A man with spiky red hair said to Demyx one day; no introductions, just straight to the point. The blonde's throat constricted slightly at the mention of his old friend, but he ignored it and nodded uneasily. He had recognised him as the one who had been friends with Zexion – his Zexion – so he couldn't have been a bad person, as strange as he may have seemed.

"Well, I think I know a way for you to talk to him again…" He continued with a smirk.

"How?" Demyx instantly choked out, instantly hopeful at the thought of seeing him again.

"Just… come with me." The redhead said, walking off slowly to let the other follow him. Demyx knew that he should not trust someone so easily, but the want to see lilac-haired boy was overwhelming, and he ignored all his insecure thoughts for the time being.

A week later, Zexion walked emotionlessly – or at least, that's what he thought, seeing as he shouldn't have a heart – into the room, halting in shock when he saw the familiar blonde hairdo tilt upwards so that sea-blue eyes could meet his.

The feelings coursing through his body were overwhelming, and despite everything else, Zexion really just wanted to thrash and scream, just wanted to whine like a child, because it just wasn't fair, it was not fucking fair, the way that it had all gone so wrong. Demyx was not meant to be damned to this sort of life, and he blamed himself completely, ignoring the slight flattery welling in his stomach at the thought of Demyx doing it for him.

"We're finally together, Zexy!" He exclaimed as he shot out of his seat and walked jerkily to the other, bubbly as ever.

"Y-yeah." Said boy breathed in surprise, eyes widening as he felt the excitement well in the pit of his stomach.

"Stay with me… forever?" He said in a softer voice, like no one else was in the room, and took a slight, subtle step forwards.

The other man took a deep breath and stepped forward, boldly pressing their lips together. Demyx made no move to push him away and he noticed this, making it seem as if it was disregarded, when really, it meant the world to him.

And when they pulled apart, the alluringly familiar sea-blue eyes that meant so much to him lulled him into compassion, letting him know everything was, in fact, okay. And, for just the slightest moment it was as if he had never known anything better.

[20 years old]

They said that they had died in a tough, unavoidable battle. They said it as if it was a daily fact, over casual conversation. They said that he had done great in battle, but that it just wasn't enough.

Although their time together was short, it was sweet and almost perfect, what the rest of their lives should have been. Demyx wished that he could have done something more to improve the other's short existence, but in the end, it was not enough.

He had wished and wished that it was not real, but knew that it was. At times he thought that it was his entire fault, and at other times unfulfilled. Zexion made his time in the Organization worthy and bearable, and now that he was gone, he just didn't know what to rely on anymore, feeling so lost.

He had so much that he wanted to tell the other, taking all the time for granted. All he wanted was to hear that knock at the door, but it never came, and he knew it never would. How silly it was, he thought, that despite having a heart, it affected him so.

And he whispered his deepest secret, his most valuable piece of knowledge into thin air, where no one would ever hear it; "I love you, Zexion…" He wished that someone had heard him, but was glad nonetheless. But it was okay, no one would care enough to know.

"I love you." He tasted it on his tongue again, and the worst part was, he liked it.