Chapter 2

Zexion sat up in his bed, his hair sticking out in seven different directions. When he shook his head his bang fell back into his eye and he sighed - maybe Demyx had been right about cutting it. No! No! It was way to early to think about that pest.

He turned his head lazily and looked at his alarm clock. 5:30. Damn, why was he awake? It was Saturday.

Then a loud sound of music echoed through the wall. The small boy made a small jump in his bed. That sound most have been what waked him. He turned his head and stared at the wall. It was from Demyx apartment.

Another loud blast of music!

He groaned and fell back into his covers, - throwing his blankets over his face - but the music still blasted from next door.

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!" Zexion yelled under his blankets, but the music just kept playing.

He opened his Diary and in anger he wrote with big capital letters all over a page "I HATE DEMYX!", before he stumbled out of bed and yanked a pair of jeans on and staggered sleepily out of the door to the empty hallway.

He knocked on Demyx door - or rather, slammed his fists at the door.

"Demyx! It's not even six in the morning! Demyx!" He yelled angrily and clenched his fists down the sides of his body. The music stopped and he heard a lot of stuff getting thrown around and then running steps toward the door.

"What? What?" Demyx asked and yanked the door open. His eyes were shining with excitement, and he seemed to be out of breath, fully dressed and hair already styled in the mullet-mohawk-whatever-style. Had he been jumping around while playing? Gezz! It didn't even matter.

Demyx eyes brightened when he saw who it was, but then his eyes ran up and down the shorter boy's body and had to suppress a laugh.

Zexion was confused at first, but then realized he was standing in his blue pajamas with a terrible bed-head. He flushed embarrassed, but shook it off quickly.

"I'm trying to sleep!" Zexion said, tired and annoyed.

"Oh, you heard?" Demyx grinned and scratched the back of his head.

"Ya think?" Zexion said and let his voice drip with sarcasm. Demyx chuckled and shrugged.

"Sorry, my mom is out of town, so it's just me and I couldn't sleep."

'Funny, I had that problem too!' Zexion thought, but kept his mouth shut. Demyx gestured inside, but Zexion immediately backed away.

"No thank you," he said rejecting and turned to leave, but Demyx grabbed his arm. "What do you want?" Zexion exclaimed surprised and flinched by the touch.

Demyx' eyes had turned serious.

"I wanted to ask you about yesterday," The teen explained with steady voice. "I talked with a few people at school and ... I heard you are usually picked on."

"None of your concern," Zexion said and clenched his jaw. How dared this boy dig into his private business? He never asked for help and never would - and especially not from this troublesome, hyper, overexcited, loud-music-playing teen.

"If you ever need anything-"

"Yeah, thank you, but I don't need anything from you," Zexion snapped, partly because he was tired and annoyed - and partly because he really didn't want to let anyone into his head at the moment. Marluxia's death was still lingering in his mind.

"I have been through stuff too," Demyx said and suddenly looked ten years older. Zexion winced slightly, but then he just gave him a scowl and turned to walk back into his apartment. He hesitated at the door-handle when Demyx spoke again.

"Sometimes you put walls up, not to keep people out, but to see who cares enough to break them down."

"I guess my walls are just too thick to be broken," Zexion murmured and walked into his apartment.

#_#_#_#

Dear Diary

Demyx have a way to make his words into small needles that goes into your brain and poke around, but I won't let anyone into my life. Marluxia is still in my head like a ghost, I miss him. Demyx thinks he knows me! He just met me for gods sake! What does he knows? Why does he even care! And why do I even waste my time writing about the idiot? Demyx is just so...

#_#_#_#

Zexion played with the pen and thought about it. Why did he write so much about Demyx? He shouldn't think so much about him. From now on he would not write ONE word about Demyx again! He nodded to himself in a silent agreement and pressed the pen to the paper.

Then it hit him.

What the hell was he then suppose to write about?

Hell broke lose when he decided to get some groceries.

Zexion had pulled his scarf halfway up his face to keep the cold out and buttoned his jacket all the way to the top. The wind came from all directions and made his hair blow into his face with such force that he was sure it would leave small bruises eventually.

Then the voice he hated the most in the whole world broke through the screaming wind.

"Isn't that the little emo-midget?" Luxord's smooth voice sounded and three options immediately ran through Zexion's mind:

a) Run away - probably pointless.

b) Keep cool and face the teen with an expressionless face- hoping he was in a good mood and wouldn't be provoked by that.

c) Ignore him and hope he left - yeah right.

He was tempted to pick #a, but then he felt Luxord's big palm fall as a rock on his shoulder and trapped him instantly. He immediately picked #b and gave him one of his "What-the-hell-do-you-want-" glares. (Had absolutely no effect, darn!)

"I didn't see you at school yesterday," he said with fake concern, which made Zexion want to puke.

"I decided to stay home, since you were in school," Zexion said with the iciest voice he could find. He had, over time, learned to stay cool in situations like this, even when if he was doomed.

"That was not very nice," Luxord said and smirked. "Keep those nasty comments for your boyfriend." Zexion's eyes flickered shocked, but he hurried to pull his mask back on.

"What are you talking about?" Zexion asked and his scarf fell from his face so his whole face was exposed. Luxord immediately saw an opportunity for cutting the shorter teen down.

"I'm talking about the new kid, Demyx, who you so kindly walked to school- well, halfway," Luxord teased, then added. "Before you ran home crying of course."

'I did NOT cry! You big fat jerk!' "We are just neighbors," Zexion just said with a shrug. Keeping his face calm and indifferent.

"Ah-ha," Luxord said and didn't look convinced. Zexion turned and continued walking – mentally groaning, when he heard Luxord's steps fall into his pace. "You know, my friend, you can really tell me anything." he said and put his arm around Zexion's shoulders. Zexion crumbled a little, but tried not to look too disgusted.

"I almost forgot," Luxord said and tightened his hold around Zexion. "I have a present for you. Two actually, aren't you lucky?"

"No thanks!" Zexion said a little too quickly. Luxord laughed mockingly and Zexion cursed himself inside his head.

"Zexion, Zexion, always so modest, but I insist," he said and reached down his pocket with the hand he didn't have wrapped around Zexion.

"The first gift is this," he waved a picture by his eyes.

Zexion forgot all about his barrier. He forgot to look indifferent and cool. He felt his eyes wide in horror and if Luxord hadn't had his hands tightly around his shoulders he would have dropped to the ground.

He wanted to look away, but his eyes were as glued to the picture.

It was Marluxia. Lying on the floor. Bleeding from his wrists. Eyes blank and with no light.

"Remember that my parents are cops? They found him. Poor guy killed himself. I heard you two had a thing and thought I would show you how pathetic he really was," Luxord whispered and smirked when his words had the wanted effect. "Look he managed to cut himself. So. Many. Times. He most have been in a lot of pain - don't you wish he had had someone close to him? Maybe a boyfri- oh wait… that was you, right? Too bad he didn't love you enough to stay alive."

Zexion didn't say anything and with a poor attempt to hold them back, a fresh set of tears fell down his cheeks. He hated it! He hated looking weak in front of Luxord, or anyone else for that matter; it would only be used against him later on.

He managed to bend his head forward and tried to wipe the picture out of his memory. Mission impossible.

A drop of water fell on his forehead and he clenched his hands. Rain? Luxord let go of his shoulders and let him drop to the ground with a surprised gasp. He let out a groan when he hit the ground and ended on all four. He hurried to his knees and looked at his hands that had gotten filled with dirt.

"You should have stopped it Zexion," Luxord said and to Zexion's surprise his voice was cold and serious - not the usual teasing tone. He looked up and met Luxord's eyes, full of hate. "You could have saved him."

"Wha-?" Zexion began, but choked on the word. Luxord laughed mockingly.

"He was my best friend... and you couldn't save him," Luxord said hateful and reached down his pocket. "You were suppose to take care of him!" he was louder now and Zexion flickered in horror. Luxord had pulled a razor from his belt and pointed the blade toward Zexion's forehead. "I left him in your care, because he said he loved you! But you... you... let him die!"

He threw the razor by Zexion's feet. Zexion stared at the shining blade.

"Why don't you just kill yourself?" Luxord asked, his voice almost a whisper. "That's my second gift. It was expensive, but whatever."

Idiot. Didn't he know that a knife was much better for cutting? A razor gave a weird pain. A knife was preferable.

Zexion looked at the knife with sad eyes. His hands shaking slightly and he tried to steady them, but failed. Luxord turned and walked away. Zexion didn't move. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathings.

Your fault... my fault... You could have stopped it Zexion... you let him die... My fault... it's my entire fault.

The rain soaked into the boy's clothes and he felt all his limbs turn weak as he sat. He let his limbs collapse and hit the wet ground with a wet thud. He was too mentally exhausted to move anywhere. He closed his eyes and fainted.

"Zexion? Is that you?" a stunned voice asked and suddenly the rain didn't hit him anymore. He opened his eyes... had he passed out? He felt more cold and wet than before, so it was definitely a possibility. He could hear the hard drops of water hit something plastic above his head.

He looked up weakly and stared into a bright green umbrella and ... a shocked face.

Demyx?

He looked absolutely horrified. A look that Zexion hadn't thought the cheerful boy could have managed.

"Oh my god! What happened to you?" Demyx asked with a breathless voice. His umbrella fell out of his hands when he almost fell to his knees beside Zexion. His eyes fell on the knife. "Are you hurt?"

'Define hurt,' Zexion thought, but just shook his head slowly.

"Don't move," Demyx demanded and carefully put his hands under Zexion's small body. Normally he would have screamed and struggled in protest, but he was simply too... exhausted.

He felt Demyx lift his body, bridal style, and then his mind turned very blurry. He could feel Demyx slender muscles move under him as they ran down the wet street.


Please review your thoughts. : D