Disclaimer: Kingdom Hearts is the property of Squareenix and Disney.
The Colours of Denial
She dreams of the island, sometimes.
At first, only when she's asleep. The, slowly, she starts seeing it everywhere – in every drawing, behind every brushstroke, every stray dust of pencil, she sees the colours of Destiny Island, swirling vaguely beneath the surface.
No one else can see it. This she knows for a fact after watching Vexen stalk out of her room, ignoring the way the room glowed orange as the sun on Destiny Island set, bringing with it the darkness of night.
It almost frightens her except—
Sometimes, Sora is there.
Sora staring into the sunset; Sora building sand castles with his friends, racing across the beach, climbing coconut trees, chasing fish in the water.
Sora, always smiling, always filled with laughter.
It's only then that she starts drawing him, lining him with warm colours and filling his eyes with the cool of blue. Sometimes she includes his friends; most of the times, she leaves them out. Instead, she shapes the island around Sora, capturing every detail she sees and replicating it with her fingers, bringing him to life with her mind.
Sometimes, when she's sure no one is looking, she adds a tiny blonde figure to the drawing, next to Sora.
And she imagines what it would be like if the drawings were true. If she were on the beach with him instead of here, she'd—
—watch the sunsets with him, help him build sand castles under the hot sun and lose every single race they run.
When Sora exclaims, one day, that when it get this hot, what's the best thing to do? Well, get some coconuts and have a cool drink under the tree, that's what. And she watches as he scurries up the tree with ease, worrying every time his foot slips, hardly breathing until he's back on level ground with her. And then they together, relief mixing with triumph as Sora passes her a coconut and they spend the rest of the day under the shade.
She catches that smile over and over again on paper and hides them under her pillow. At one point, she wonders if it's possible to bottle up laughter so that she can always keep it close. When he's off saving worlds, she waits up for him every night and dreams of him coming back to her, coming back home.
And when he finally comes back, she runs across the beach and throws her arms around his neck, holding him close as she listens to his heartbeat, breathing in his scent and asks him to never ever leave her behind again.
Sora smiles, blue eyes warm, and he promises.
And Namine is never alone again. At last, she has a home; she's finally safe, finally happy and—
She jerks awake, looking around wildly until she spots Marluxia watching her, blue eyes cold, a smile on his lips. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry for waking you. Were you having a nice dream?"
Namine looks away. "No."
Footsteps echo around the empty room as he approaches, stopping by the table. "Namine," he says. When she ignores him, gloved fingers grab hold of her chin and turns her around, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're not very good at lying."
Later, when Namine is alone again, she picks up her latest drawing, tracing the two people holding hands, watching as a star shoots across the night sky and hears, so quiet but so very, very real, a whisper as Sora makes her a promise.
"I'll protect you."
And she decides Marluxia is wrong.
Because she's so very good at lying to herself.
