I'm really proud of myself for making this chapter longer than the last one, I feel like my chapters are never long enough. I was originally going to make this story a giant one-shot, but I'm not completely finished it and I really wanted to put at least some parts of it up.
Also, a big big thank you and warm fuzzy hug to those who reviewed the last chapter! When I read the reviews it made me feel like unicorns were jumping over rainbows in my heart 3 I'm a bit afraid this chapter won't be as well received, however, because it moves away from the youthful Demyx and Zexion and onto their college aged counterparts. I hope people like them all mature and well-cooked, as well as the kiddy-meal versions :D
Enjoy!
"You do realize the ridiculous amount of space that thing takes up, right Dem? Dorm rooms are only so big."
Demyx gaped at his best friend, "You think I'm leaving my sitar at home? No way, are you nuts?" He clutched the instrument to his chest possessively.
Axel sighed, rolling his eyes, placing his hands on his hips. He often found himself in this pose while trying to rope in his friend, "I know its special to you, Dem-"
"Damn strait! This is a hand crafted instrument of the finest quality!"
"-but seriously, I don't think we can even fit it in the car." Both young men turned to the station wagon beside them. All the windows were blocked out by numerous boxes and bags and random items hastily thrown in at the last moment. It had taken the two of the nearly 10 minutes to simply close the trunk, and neither were looking forward to opening it and braving the cascade of objects when they arrived at the University.
"Well then I'll just hold it. I'm not leaving it behind!" Demyx argued, and headed over to take his seat in the car.
"Why'd your parents let you take lessons for such a goddamn gigantic instrument?" Axel muttered angrily, slipping into the driver's seat. Demyx struggled beside him, trying to maneuver the large sitar into a position where he could sit comfortably.
"It's a classic instrument of my native world, they wanted me to retain something from my heritage or whatever." He mumbled, finally settling into place. "Besides, I really like it, so shut up!"
"Excellent argument, Dem." Axel laughed, starting up the engine, "Let's get going before my mom runs out of the house and drags me back inside."
Pulling out of the driveway and heading out of the little town, Demyx breathed a sigh of relief. He and Axel were heading back to college for their second semester. They had come home for the winter break, and since their dorm was being remodeled after they found out it wasn't in regulation to fire safety codes ("So you could say that I did them a huge favor!" Axel argued with his mother, "They would have never known it was unsafe unless I had set off that alarm!") they had been forced to bring home all of their stuff. They now were lugging it back to campus, dreading having to unpack it all again.
After high school they had both chosen the same university, quite against the others knowledge. Demyx was going because of a music scholarship, he had no idea what he was going to major in. Axel, on the other hand, was going because of the University's chemistry program, one of best on this world, and because of the reduced price for students that were in-world natives. Demyx had run over to Axel's house after he accepted the admissions offer, only to find Axel online, choosing courses. They had stared at each other for a few moments before Demyx piqued up, "Do your housing contract yet? Let's be roomies!" to which Axel smacked him upside the head.
They were housing together though, after hearing Demyx's father's story of his first roommate ("And then the curtains were completely ruined! And the RA wasn't being much help, having fainted from all the blood and whatnot.") they decided it would be best if they didn't leave their fate up to random room assignments. So now they were all packed up, headed back to school. Demyx was relieved to be going back. He loved his parents dearly, but he didn't know how much longer he could have stood all the love and attention before he snapped. He was craving the freedom of college life.
He and Axel alternated between making idle chatter and silence as the ride continued, Demyx falling asleep for a bit and Axel fiddling with the radio. Eventually they got closer to campus, and their conversation picked up, mostly about all the people they were finally getting to see again.
"Is Marluxia living down the hall again? I remember him saying something about moving off campus."
"Yeah, he's getting an apartment." Axel scoffed, "Good riddance to him."
"You know, he wasn't that bad Axel. In fact, he was actually really nice. You were just a jerk towards him, so he was mean to you." Demyx chided him.
"Whatever, I don't like him."
"Suit yourself. There is one good thing that comes out of his leaving though."
"Besides the unending joy of his absence?"
"No, the unending joy of Larxene's absence!"
"Oh God, you're right!" Axel grinned like a maniac, and Demyx laughed at the expression on his best friend's face. Axel had every right to be excited about the removal of the pink-haired man's blond friend. Though friend may not have been the right word. No one really knew what word was supposed to be used; they didn't seem to be dating, but they were attached at the hip. Larxene was a nearly constant presence on their dorm floor, much to the general populace's displeasure.
"What's your schedule like?" Axel asked him, turning off of the highway.
"Pretty good, I don't have to be up before 11 most days, except Mondays and Thursday s, unfortunately. I have a class at eight in the freaking morning." Demyx answered solemnly.
"I'm sorry man, that's harsh. What class is it?"
"Some stupid history class I have to take cause I'm from off-world. Regardless of the fact that I've lived here since I was, like, seven."
"Well, at least it should be easy then, right?"
"Hopefully. My brain doesn't start functioning until at least ten."
They laughed together as Axel pulled onto campus. Both men were happy to see the familiar buildings, while at the same time disappointed to know what would be happening inside them. As Axel often mentioned, college would have been a lot more fun if there was less learning and more partying. To which Demyx would punch him in the arm and tell him to get back to reading his textbook.
They pulled up to their dorm and braved opening the trunk. Only a few of the random loose objects fell to the ground, and Demyx grabbed a few things before heading into the building to open up their room. He pushed the button on the elevator, waiting for the number above the door to light up and let him out. As he saw familiar faces in the hall he passed out cheery hello's, wanting to get unpacked instead of stopping to chat. There would be lots of time to talk later. After the door was unlocked and Demyx inside, he surveyed his living area. Two beds, two desks, it wasn't any different then how they had left it. He was jolted from his musings as Axel ran into him from behind.
"Watch it Axel!"
"So sorry, its just that all these boxes are heavy and I can't see around them. But don't worry, I've totally got this. You just relax and I'll lug all your shit up here."
"Oh, cool, thanks!"
"Go down and get your own crap, Demyx!"
After lugging their worldly possessions into the building and up to their room, setting up what they would immediately need for the night, they perused the hallway to check who had arrived. Familiar faces and familiar voices told them tales of winters spent at home or on vacation. They learned of the new addition to the floor, a silver-haired boy named Riku. He, thankfully, seemed a heap more reserved than the flamboyant Marluxia.
Demyx fell into bed that night, thankful to be back, but dreading the morning. Staring at the familiar ceiling, he prepared himself for Monday, the most un-holy of days. And eight am history class, his worst subject. He set his alarm, dreading its harsh cry that drew him from his precious slumber, and it was less of a 'drew' and more of a 'forcefully yanked and bitch-slapped'.
And the alarm did just that. At seven in the morning he was rudely awakened, and after a sharp slap of the sleep button, went promptly back to sleep. However the alarm would not be deterred so easily, and eventually Demyx had to admit defeat. He dragged himself to the shower in an attempt to wake up. Not long after that he found himself walking across campus, chewing on a granola bar. He was barely willing to wake up for a shower, going to the dining hall for breakfast was asking too much of him.
Thankfully the building his class was scheduled in wasn't too far from his room, so he only had to endure the cold January winds for a few minutes. He stumbled into class, falling into his seat and unbuttoning his coat. He paid little attention as the others walked in, instead letting his eyes explore the room. The class was small, only ten to fifteen students probably, as evidence by the tiny space and number of desks. Most students who went to the school were on-world natives, so not many were required to take this class. Demyx was still a little miffed at being considered an 'off-worlder' but perhaps it was a blessing in disguise; an easy A would be a nice boost to his GPA.
The professor finally walked in, about five minutes late. Demyx had been starring out the window, fingers tapping a broken rhythm on the desk. The professor handed out the syllabus and then cheerily announced that the class would be largely discussion based. Demyx joined in the collective groan when he asked for everyone to arrange their desks in a big circle. They grudgingly moved about until all the students were arranged in a shape similar to that of a circle, but anyone familiar with geometry would cringe at the sight of.
As they went through the syllabus Demyx's mind wandered in an attempt to stay awake. He doodled on the edges of the page, wrote a few lines of a song stuck in his head in the upper margin, every once in a while listening to what the professor had to say. He was jolted back to reality when the professor asked them to go around the circle and introduce themselves. What was this, Demyx thought, grade school?
One by one students stood up, giving all of the general college information: name, major, what year they were in, their original world for the sake of the class, and, at the professor's insistence, a 'fun fact'. When Demyx's turn arrived he looked around nervously.
"Uh, hey," He waved nervously at no one in particular, "My name's Demyx, I'm a freshman. I don't know what I'm majoring in yet. I'm originally from Atlantis…it's the world with the crystal heart." A few of the other students nodded in recognition. Demyx wasn't surprised, not many had heard of his original world unless its odd heart was mentioned. The story of how his world had bestowed its heart's power to a princess and she had saved the world from annihilation by giant wave was a common bedtime tale.
"And my fun fact is that...ummm…I'm a musician. I play sitar." He shrugged and sat down. What more could they want to know? The girl to his right stood up and continued. He tried to listen as the rest of his classmates introduced themselves, but he found his mind straying as class time winded down. He was brought back to reality by a shocking phrase.
"I'm from Traverse."
The entire class was suddenly at attention, staring at the boy who stood calmly, gazing back at those in the circle. Traverse, home to the infamous Traverse Town, was the most dangerous world one could find. This boy was from that place. That dead dying planet, home to a mottled collection of inhabitants among whom hid fugitives and thieves; this boy called that place home. Demyx surveyed him. Steel-blue hair, a short stature, but he held himself with confidence. He took in the gazes of his newly interested classmates evenly, his blue eyes gazing back with a blank stare, almost bored. He was expecting that reaction, Demyx though, he knows his world's reputation.
"I could be considered a freshman, though the program I am in is structured such that I do not have an official class standing. I am majoring in MWH."
Demyx's eyes widened. MWH was the school's acronym for Multiple World History. It was essentially a History major on crack. You learned not only this world's history, but that of numerous other worlds nearby, the number varied on how in-depth you wanted to go; the more worlds, the tougher the major became. And if this guy had come from Traverse, which was quite a distance away, he must me studying a lot of different worlds. If Demyx had known he was going to have a genius in his class, he probably would have put on a nicer shirt.
"My fun fact is that I enjoy reading and studying literature from different worlds in my spare time." He informed them, then sat down and nodded to the boy next to him. The boy stuttered a bit before introducing himself. Demyx couldn't take his eyes off the student from Traverse though. Why hadn't he been listening when he said his name? The other man sat, hair over his left eye, listening intently to the remaining students spout off useless facts about themselves.
How could someone from Traverse have gotten into such a difficult major? The place was notorious for its lack of a civilized education system, it just had scattered schools here and there. It was even more notorious for its decrepit towns and poverty stricken people. This guy must have been some sort of genius to get accepted into any school's program, and more than likely he had been given a huge scholarship to boot. How else could he have made it off Traverse?
As the professor announced the topic of discussion for the next class period, the students began to pack up. Demyx shoved everything in his backpack, his eyes never straying from the blue-haired man. Hoisting his bag onto his shoulder, he walked to the door, behind most of the other students who were more anxious to leave than he was. The object of his attention was in front of him as he walked out the door. Before Demyx realized what he was doing, his hand reached out and tapped the other man on the shoulder. He turned, eyes curious.
"Yes?" he asked, stepping out of the flow of students and stopping to look expectantly at Demyx.
"Umm, well, it's just that…" Demyx stuttered, still surprised at himself for reaching out to the blue-eyed stranger, "I kinda missed your name in there."
"My name is Zexion." The other told him gently.
"Oh, okay. I'm-"
"Demyx, I know. It's nice to meet you." Zexion extended his hand and Demyx took it to shake. Goodness gracious, Demyx thought, had this genius memorized everyone's name after only hearing them once?
"Do you mind if I ask you something, Demyx?" Zexion asked quietly, and Demyx nodded, "Does Traverse really have such a reputation as to make the entire class react that way?" His eyes were on the ground as he asked, hands hidden in his pockets.
Ahhh, so he hadn't been so calm and collected after all, Demyx thought with a smirk. This guy had guts. He's from Traverse after all. Demyx thought about how to phrase his answer without insulting Zexion.
"Well…it's just that…Traverse is sorta generally known as a pretty…rough…place to live. We don't really meet too many people from that far off, anyway…" He scratched the back of his head, hoping he hadn't said anything too stupid. Zexion seemed to consider his words carefully, his brow creasing in thought.
"Have you been on this world long enough to know that not many of my people come here?" he asked, surprising Demyx.
"Uh, what do you mean?"
"Your attendance and introduction in class signify that you are not from this world, but you speak as if you have been here for longer than your freshman standing indicates."
"Oh, yeah! I moved here with my family awhile ago, when I was about seven or eight. But since I'm still technically an off-worlder-"
"You were forced to take the class." Zexion cut in, a look of pity on his face. Demyx shrugged and nodded. Zexion chuckled and looked at his watch, "I apologize Demyx, but I must be getting to my next class. Thank you for answering my questions. It was…enlightening." A small smile graced his face, and Demyx couldn't help but beam back at him.
"It was great talking to you too! We should hang out sometime!"
Zexion looked a little taken aback by the statement, and Demyx found that he was too. He hadn't really meant to be so forthcoming, but Zexion just seemed like someone Demyx could get along with. There was something about the slate haired man that he found himself drawn to, but he couldn't put a finger on it. Was it his confidence, his calm demeanor? But then Zexion smiled, and Demyx lost his train of thought.
"That sounds nice." He said, and turned to head to his next class, "I'll see you later then, Demyx."
"Yeah…"Demyx muttered to no one as Zexion headed down the hallway and into a stairwell, "See you later."
And this is how the little boy, who threw a message in a bottle out into space, finally met his new friend.
\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\/\
Bright.
That was the word that came to mind when he walked through this world. Its colors, its scenery, its literature, its music, its history, its people; they were so bright. They looked you in the eye when you spoke to them, walked with confidence, held their heads high. Zexion had been in awe of this unusual behavior since he had left Traverse. Slowly, as he had moved farther and farther from his own world, the people had been getting more and more outgoing, more accepting, more trusting. It was as if the more he moved away from the sorrow and rubble of his own world, the people became more and more human. And he had finally reached this place, this beautiful world, where the people all but shone, like the bright stars he had seen out of the window of the Gummi Ship.
He often would find himself starring at commonplace objects, a tree with all its leaves, a dripping faucet, and smiling face, entranced by these normal items that were so rare on his own world. He would wonder at how he had managed to make it off Traverse at all. He thought back to the struggle he had gone through, how he had saved every cent he owned to mail off those applications to different programs, for scholarships, for anything that could get him off his dying home world. It nearly killed him when he sent those applications. He had run his fingers over the envelopes numerous times, wishing he could tear off the postage and use it to mail the letters that had been sitting on his desk for years. But he had restrained himself with the thought that, while the letters would reach D, the applications would allow him to meet D…hopefully.
His mother had fretted over him throughout the process, but in the end she knew that what he was striving for would be best for him. He often thought of his mother, back home in that decrepit town, alone. When the neighbors had heard that he would be leaving, not just the town, but Traverse altogether, they had promised to watch over his mother for him. He knew she would be safe, and happy knowing that her son had escaped the fate she had met, the fate of being trapped on a world that was slowly fading away. But he was still allowed to think about her, to miss her. But no matter how much he missed her (and really she was the only the thing from his home that he missed) he found himself enraptured by these new worlds he visited, so enthralled by their beauty and openness and life, that he could never see himself returning to his dying home.
And now he was here, in this bright world, and he was sure that he never wanted to return to Traverse, never wanted to leave this place at all. And it wasn't just the brightness of the places and people, the life that ran through everything in the same way that death ran through Traverse. That wasn't what made him want to latch onto this world and never leave; there was something much more important here.
This was the world on the return address of D's letter.
It had been smudged, like the rest of the letter, but this was the world, this was the place that D resided. He would find him here. He needed to find him here. The letters to D had come along with him when he left Traverse, and he intended for them to be delivered. One way or another, he would find the man he loved. Of that he was absolutely certain.
But for now, he had to go to class. Yes, it was ridiculous, knowing that D was walking about on this planet, knowing how close he was, that Zexion had to attend something as simple and mundane as a lecture. However, he was adamant to not let his mother's time and teaching be wasted on him. So the last few months had passed, week after week attending classes, knowing that beyond that horizon was his one true reason for being on this world.
As he sat and listened to the professor, his eyes scanned the lecture hall, resting on figures here and there. Once again marveling at the brightness of the people here, he thought to his newest friend. Demyx had been a strange acquisition. It wasn't to say that he hadn't made friends on other worlds. He still kept contact with the sturdy Lexaeus, who was in the same major as he, but a year older. Lexaeus had been extremely helpful in explaining the ways of worlds other than Traverse. How you didn't have to be constantly watching the horizon for raiders, how you didn't need to be afraid of people you hadn't known all your life. Lexaeus was a mentor as much as a friend.
But Demyx was different. He was open, he was cheery, he was kind. In essence, he was everything Traverse wasn't, and at times Zexion thought himself the complete opposite of Demyx. Zexion had been taught from birth to be cautious, be quiet, to dread the future and what it may hold. Demyx's very being was in complete contradiction to that logic. Zexion wondered how he could have such camaraderie with someone like Lexaeus, someone of few words but strong logic, but have fallen so easily into a true friendship with someone like Demyx. But then the blond would mutter something so impressively profound that Zexion found himself at a loss for words, and he would realize that Demyx was just as intelligent as Lexaeus. But instead of being a man of few words, Demyx was a man of many many words.
On that Monday morning, a few months ago, Zexion had walked into that eight am class expecting everything and nothing. It was his first class on this new world, and the knowledge that somewhere nearby D was waiting was still fresh in his mind. He had listened to the others introduce themselves with little interest, storing away names and faces absentmindedly. A few of them, a boy named Dajh from Cocoon, another named Demyx from Atlantis, a older girl named Dona from Spira, stood out to him, but only because their names began with a D. Things took a strange turn when he had introduced himself. He had been expecting a reaction, something like a look of pity or a disapproving eye, like those on previous worlds had given him. But some of the other students looked downright terrified of him, like he could reach out and destroy them with a flick of his wrist.
When Demyx confronted him, he was assuming the boy was just being trying to be friendly, after the frightened reaction he had gained in class. His heart had done a little skip when Demyx had mentioned that he had moved here when he was young, when he may have been young enough to send a letter out into space looking for a friend. But Zexion pushed that thought away. Running into D in one of his classes on the first day of school? The odds of something like that actually happening were so infinitesimal that it was near impossible. He expected that the end of their conversation would be the last close contact he ever had with Demyx. But the blond had made good on his promise to hang out, and Zexion soon found himself dragged to group dinners and weekend outings. Demyx had introduced him to his friend Axel, who had promptly asked him if Traverse was really the shithole it was made out to be. When Zexion replied that, no, it was in fact worse than the descriptions, the redhead had let out a curt, but amused laugh.
Since that time, Demyx had promptly decided that Zexion was some sort of lost puppy, and it was his job to take care of him. He had been dragged around campus, shown all the secrets and back alleys, and knew every building, regardless of whether he had a class there or not. He had sampled the many restaurants nearby, because when Demyx had heard that they didn't have fast food on Traverse (in fact a rather poor amount of food at all) he had been flabbergasted and had immediately moved the conversation to the nearest building that sold cheeseburgers. But their friendship was more than Demyx simply showing him the sights and many types of cuisine. Zexion couldn't seem to understand why they had become so close, until it finally hit him. Demyx simply wouldn't let him go, and Zexion had responded to that by actually opening up and letting Demyx in.
Numerous times, after they had first meet, Zexion had thought himself a burden to the cheerful man. He saw Demyx's light, his brightness, and saw reflected in that his own darkness. Zexion had attempted to keep his distance, so that he wouldn't put out that light. Why should Demyx want someone as solemn as Zexion around, anyway? Someone from a frightening dying world who was more interested in the library that the stores and bars downtown. But Demyx refused to let him sink away. He was always there with a 'Hey, have you eaten yet?', or 'Want to see that movie tonight? You know, the one Axel won't shut up about?' He had even stood up for him, when some other students had confronted him about being from a dead world of lunatics, Demyx had been there to tell them, in no polite terms, to fuck off. Zexion had never had a friend like that, never had someone who willingly stayed by his side and fought for him, with no gain in it for themselves.
And now the months had passed by, and as Zexion sat in lecture it suddenly occurred to him that he could say with confidence that Demyx was the first real best friend he had ever had. At home he was so concerned with studying and learning and getting off Traverse that he didn't really make friends with any of the town's children. Why should he make friends there when he was going to be leaving someday anyway? D was the only friend he had needed.
Zexion felt a wave of guilt suddenly wash over him. He had never told Demyx about D. He wasn't trying to hide it from the other man, but he didn't really see the necessity of it. D had nothing to do with Demyx, and Demyx never questioned Zexion about the box under his bed filled with letters. Then again, Demyx had no knowledge of this box, but that, Zexion argued, was against the point. Demyx was his truest friend, and he didn't want anything to ruin that. If Demyx knew that Zexion was in love with an arguably imaginary person, and it was Zexion's main goal to find this person in real life and confess said love to him…needless to say, Zexion was completely aware of the absurdity of the situation. If Demyx were to ask about it, Zexion wouldn't lie. He could never lie to Demyx, bright caring Demyx who would grab his hand and lead him around campus on 'adventures' that were simply excuses to spend time together while Axel and his new friend Roxas spent some alone time in the dorm room. He would never lie to Demyx. But if he happened to leave out certain things from conversations and avoid certain topics, no one could blame him for that.
Later that night, he sat in his apartment, writing a letter to D. He had kept up his letter writing as he had moved from world to world, eyes always focused on the goal of finally meeting D. He read over the letter, checking for mistakes and making sure everything he wanted to say was said. As he moved to put the letter down and reach for a textbook, he stopped mid-motion. He pulled the letter back to his eyes and read it. Then he read it again. He couldn't seem to understand what he had written, it didn't make sense. It wasn't that the wording was incorrect or the grammar was wrong, all of that was perfect. It was something much more distressing that had finally, but abruptly, wormed its way into his mind.
He never mentioned Demyx.
Not once.
He dove under his bed and pulled out the box with D's letters. He grabbed a few off the top, the ones he had written on this world. He read through them quickly, his heart racing faster and faster, but he wasn't sure why. A small part of his brain pointed out the realization that the more time he spent with Demyx, the fewer letters he had written to D. He had found himself busy, studying with his new found friends, attending the school's orchestra concerts to watch Demyx play, and the number of letters he had written had slowly dwindled. But the content was what interested him now. He always wrote about what he was doing, but only with his 'friends'. He mentioned Axel's name once or twice, but he never explicitly talked about Demyx. He had never written about things they did together, or the adventures that they went on. Not even his name.
Not even Demyx's name.
Zexion grabbed the front of his shirt, desperate for something to cling too as his heart tried to beat its way out of his chest. Why would he leave his best friend out of the letters to his true love? Why would he not tell D about Demyx, in the same way he never told Demyx about D? But he already knew. It was obvious really, he had just never stated it to himself, afraid of the consequences. He had kept it hidden away in the back of his mind, locked in a dark recess. But now Zexion unlocked that door and fully realized the truth.
He was falling for Demyx.
His heart didn't know whether to burst with joy at the sudden revelation, or shatter into a million pieces at the betrayal he had committed. His mind raced with the consequences of his realization, trying in vain to formulate plans on what to do, where to go from here. He looked again to the letter in his hand, and realized with a start that it covered in droplets of water. He reached a hand to his face, and found that he was crying.
Why did it feel like he had committed a crime? Why did it feel like he had broken someone else's heart? D didn't know who he was, D didn't know that Zexion loved him, D wasn't real. He was just a character that Zexion had made up, an idealized friend, the perfect love. But he wasn't perfect, because he wasn't real. Demyx was real. It made sense for him to love Demyx, not some imaginary figure he had created to fill the empty void in his chest. So why did it hurt? Why did it feel like there was a gaping hole in his chest, like his heart had been torn out in the same way Traverse's had, leaving him once again the boy standing in the run down town with no friends and no protection from the cruel and hateful world? He thought of Demyx, of his bright eyes and confident smile, his practiced fingers flying along the strings of his sitar, his beautiful voice as he would sing. Demyx was real, Demyx was here in his grasp, he loved Demyx. So why was there this pain?
He knew why. It was because somewhere, D did exist. It wasn't Zexion's D, but it was D nonetheless. That thought had kept Zexion moving forward, that had been his drive, his motivation for most of his life. If he loved someone else, where did that leave him? How could he move on? His love for D had pushed him forward, pulled him from Traverse and into the stars. Was that all for nothing?
So he stopped thinking…and he just let himself cry. He let the pain of his own betrayal wash over him, he let his joy at the realization of love and the sickness that came with it fill him up inside until it was impossible to hold it anymore, and he let it fall from his eyes onto the precious words he had written to a person who didn't even know he existed. He let his anger at himself boil over, his anger for chasing after a stranger while being blind to the beautiful loving person right in front of him. He let these emotions reach into the deepest part of him and tear him to pieces, and in the letters scattered on the floor he saw those jagged pieces, like a jigsaw puzzle. He then knew what he had to do to put the puzzle back together, but the thought only made him cry more.
And this is how, arriving with intentions of studying, Demyx found Zexion; kneeling on the floor, sobbing silently to himself, clutching letters to his chest in a desperate attempt to hold onto his own being.
Well well well, that took a harsh turn rather suddenly.
Like I said last chapter, I really really really appreciate critiques and suggestions for improvements, on this chapter more-so than the last one.
Honestly, I don't know if I'm fully satisfied with this chapter. I'm just not sure that I wrote it convincingly. I would really appreciate a comment telling me whether or not you thought that Zexion's emotions were too...too something, I'm not even sure myself. Too sudden? Too unbelievable? You tell me...
Just imagine that every time you leave a review, I float through the interwebs and give you a hug, because that's what I wish I could do :D