Demyx


After spending the entirety of the night laid awake pondering the strange incident in his wardrobe, Demyx was only half-aware for college the next day. His mind kept throwing the vivid memory of cold hands on his hips at him, the feel of chapped lips against his own, and it made him seem incredibly zombie-like to his classmates. After doing nothing more than staring into his bottle of water at the table during the morning break, Axel clicked his fingers in front of his face. Demyx grabbed Axel's wrist before the older boy could so much as blink, yanking him forwards so that they were almost nose to nose.

"I hate that!" Demyx hissed angrily, clicking his own fingers at Axel to emphasise his point. Axel smirked.

"My, you're touchy today. Still pissed off at me for my weekend stunt? Maybe you got some?" The last sentence was said with a smirk and a wink, resulting in a blush as red as Axel's hair to flare across Demyx's cheeks.

"No!"

"Rejected, then?"

"No. But talk to me about rejection when you've finally understood Roxas' actions towards you." Demyx grinned childishly as he spoke, and Axel narrowed his eyes at his best friend.

"Mhmm, he totally wants me." Although this was spoken sarcastically, Demyx only grinned further and cocked his head to the side.

"Sure he does. I can see it plain as day." Axel scowled in reaction, but said nothing, and Demyx stared into his bottle once more. Roxas was currently Axel's latest pursuit, but unlike the last several of Axel's partners, Roxas was actually younger than the redhead. Axel was seventeen and, like Demyx, in the first year of the Sixth Form, and had decided to attend it after persuasion from the blond musician. He'd never seen Roxas before, whereas Demyx had first seen the boy when he was in his second year of Secondary, as he'd attended the school and then gone straight on to the sixth form instead of going elsewhere. Roxas was in his final year of the school and, if Axel kept going the way he was, likely to move elsewhere instead of staying on. Demyx voiced as much, earning a grim look from Axel.

"I know, I know. I just, I don't understand why he won't talk to me. I've done nothing wrong to him." Axel scowled as he spoke, and sunk lower into the bench. Demyx noticed he was reaching for his packet of cigarettes, and promptly swiped the redhead's bag away from him.

"No, you can't smoke inside, remember? There's a smoker's area for a reason."

"Yeah, yeah, I don't want to go out there, they all give me dirty looks and I'm not allowed to get into another fight." Axel snatched his bag back from Demyx, rifling through it for a nicotine patch instead. Demyx shook his head fondly.

"Hey, I need you to do me a favour." At those words, Axel looked up suspiciously.

"Depends. I'm not breaking into someone's house again just because you-"

"It's something else. If my mum calls you tonight, tell her I'm in the bathroom and that you'll get me to ring her right back. And then text me to tell me she called. If she asks, we're doing a media project together and we're editing film footage or something." Demyx spoke quietly, not wanting anyone in the canteen to overhear. Axel raised an eyebrow.

"Give me back my cigs and it's a deal."

"Fine."

"Then it's done."


Midnight


With his bag at Axel's flat, his mother sound asleep at home, and his nerves fraying and his senses on edge, Demyx slowly made his way towards the woods. He was well aware that, the further he walked from the pavement to the edge of the wood, the less likely the possibility that someone could hear him scream. He was shaking, and the hairs on the back of his neck were standing up. He knew, the moment he crossed into the woods, that Zexion was behind him, following him in the darkness. It was unnerving just how easily the man could slink into the shadows; Demyx was only aware of his presence because he could feel the man's gaze on his back. Demyx kept walking until he reached a clearing in the forest, completely forgetting that he was actually supposed to just wait at the edge of the woods for the slate-haired man. Zexion must have been too curious to see where he was going to stop him.

Demyx walked into the middle of the clearing, where the moonlight was bright enough for them both to be seen, and sat down crossed-legged with a frown. Zexion left the safety of the darkness of the woods and sat opposite Demyx with his knees folded beneath him.

"I know… I know you may be wondering about what is going on…" Zexion started, cautious so as to not alarm Demyx. "And I'm well aware that you want to ask me questions. And that you're pathetically worried. So know this: I'm not going to hurt you."

For a reason that the blond couldn't quite find, he believed him. Trusted him, even. The man who had tried to kill him not three days earlier!

"Can I ask questions?"

"If you must." Zexion raised one slate-coloured eyebrow as Demyx started to fumble with strands of grass, frowning as he attempted to word his question.

"How many people have you killed in the past five years?"

"Eleven." Zexion spoke quickly and bluntly, stunning Demyx with his honesty. The thought of that many people being murdered caused his stomach to roll.

"And overall?" Demyx's voice was barely above a whisper, making Zexion want to cringe at his next answer.

"Fourteen." A lie.

"Why?"

"My first babysitter abused me. She would starve me, beat me, ignore me and leave me locked in my room for hours on end with nothing to do. When I turned sixteen and left school, I hunted her down and killed her. After that, I'd see a babysitter through a home window and just kill them." Zexion answered honestly; after all, Demyx wasn't a threat to him, he was simply curious. Demyx frowned.

"How did you not get caught?"

"I was careful. And before you ask, I got into the houses through anything large enough for me to slip through easily. Windows, unlocked doors. All I needed was a good pair of gloves and the occasional lockpick." At Demyx's raised eyebrow, Zexion had the grace to avert his eyes, however he looked up mere moments later, stared straight into Demyx's aqua eyes and spoke. "I don't regret a single thing I've done." He said those words with such clarity that Demyx felt a shiver go down his spine. Yes, Zexion was a killer, cold-blooded and unremorseful, so why was he here again?

"A final question. Why, Zexion, did you let me go?" Zexion seemed momentarily stunned at this question, although the look on his face was quickly covered up with a grimace.

"I don't know. I simply… I looked into your eyes, and something just sparked. I couldn't kill you, every part of my mind was screaming at me to stop immediately. I've always been able to control my mind and to have that happen…" Zexion shook his head. "All I knew was that I had to see you again."

Demyx gave a sympathetic smile, examining the man before him. His face, clearly one unaccustomed to many facial expressions, looked so confused and curious that Demyx had to refrain from awing at him. Almost on instinct, he leaned forward and placed a finger under Zexion's chin, forcing the man to look up at him directly.

"How old are, Zexion?"

"I'm twenty-six." Demyx had to stifle a gasp at that. This man was quite a bit older than himself!

"Ah. I'm seventeen, although I've only just turned it. I'm only in my first year of college, you see."

"Seventeen? You're handling this well for a- Shh!" Zexion cut himself off halfway through his sentence, leaning forward and clamping a hand down over Demyx's mouth. Demyx felt a surge of fear course through him, heightened by the view of Zexion's midnight eyes analysing the woods to their left. Demyx followed the direction of Zexion's eyes with his own, and swore his heart stopped at the faint silhouette of a man stood observing them from the thicket. When both of the young men's eyes reached him, he turned on his heel and ran through the woods. Zexion flew to his feet and cursed under his breath.

"Who was that?"

"If I knew, I wouldn't be this agitated would I? If he heard our conversation…" Zexion snapped, starting to pace as he looked torn between staying with Demyx or taking chase after the man. Demyx made the choice for him, grabbing Zexion by the lapels of his coat and thoroughly snogging him before releasing him.

"Get after him, now. When will I see you again?" Demyx's voice was oddly weak as Zexion darted towards the edge of the woods. The slate-haired man turned and glanced at Demyx.

"I'll find you when I know I'm not being followed. Go back the way you came, I'll make sure you get home alright." Zexion gave him one last look as he removed a long length of rope from his coat pocket, pulling it tight as he blended into the darkness of the surrounding forest.

Demyx didn't need to think twice before he was running in the opposite direction.