HURT: (zemyx)

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Laying in the gutter. How the fuck did he get here? He knew how. How long had it been since he'd seen Demyx? He'd been so proud of him, and what had Zexion done? He'd walked away. What he wouldn't give to hold him. To take away the pain. Please Demyx, I miss you. He'd give anything to hear the boy's voice again. How could he blame him? Demyx'd taken the rat in, in the first place. He could almost bet that Zexion was hurting more than Demyx.

He pulled himself up. Fuck, his wallet was gone. But still, he was going to find him again. There was nothing he wouldn't give to see him again. And so he grit his teeth and squeezed the locket around his neck before taking the step he could never take back.

If he'd had more time, would things be different? Would life be good? Would Demyx still be alive? Still, Zexion would find him. And no one could say he didn't see that car coming.

I'm sorry for blaming you... Demyx, I'm coming home.

I've hurt myself by hurting you.