prologue.
prompt - - - 004. jealousy
genre - - - drama, suspense
rating - - - T
synopsis - - - Seeing her with him brought back memories of their shared past, resurrecting his old, long-forgotten fear. What if she had chosen him instead? Would their friendship have been the same?
disclaimers - - - I do not in any way, shape or form own Kingdom Hearts, or any of the characters portrayed in this work of fiction.
- - x x x x x - -
He sees her first, the moment he sets foot into the Grey Area that evening; under normal circumstances, he would have trotted straight over to greet her, with a hand lingering fleetingly on her narrow shoulder, or a mocking jibe veiled with whatever affection was possibly available to a Nobody. However, he is not blind: Axel catches sight of the tall, expressionless man, with his scarred visage – a remnant of the attack that claimed his heart – and long indigo hair, silvered by the light of the moon; unwilling to be seen by the duo, the redheaded man slinks unobtrusively out of sight, lurking suspiciously in the darkness of the corridor leading to the Organisation's lounge.
Their words barely reach him; the snippets of murmured conversation he can catch are indistinct undertones he has to strain his ears to catch. Larxene gesticulates eloquently, black-gloved fingers trailing through the air like the spread wings of a jackdaw, coming to a rest on Saïx's shoulder. The Organisation's second-in-command's features register no visible reaction: he makes no attempt to move, to shift away from their physical proximity, amber eyes narrowing as he inclines his head, a faint smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Axel is unprepared for what he sees unfolding before him: with a laugh, high and unexpectedly cruel, Larxene pushes the berserker against the plate-glass windows, pinning him in place with slender arms braced against his chest; the man remains in place, barely winded, still surveying his would-be assailant with something approximating cold, sardonic amusement. A twinge of unexpected fear ripples through Axel's spine, an icicle of trepidation which radiates cold numbness towards his nerves: what is she thinking?
Evidently, Larxene is not thinking about the repercussions of manhandling a superior; adding insult to injury, the superior in question is a man renowned for his bloodthirsty savagery when bathed under the light of the moon – as he is now – during which he forgot all reason and tore through all, not bothering to discriminate between friend and foe. The Lunar Diviner, Axel knew, was more than capable of snapping the Nymph's neck without a thought if so inclined, having cast away the vestiges of their past. Instead, though, defying all expectations, number VII's gaze was unflinching as he met Larxene's eyes, surveying the woman from between lowered lids.
His query carries across the distance to Axel's ears, his voice quiet and reasonable, laced with boredom. "To what do I owe this late pleasure?"
As he shuffles closer, endeavouring to remain hidden within shadows, Axel catches the blonde's response, mirthless and filled with mockery. "Do you remember?" Her voice lowers to a suggestive whisper, the syllables of the berserker's past name catching in her throat as she hissed it, sweetly mellifluous tones bubbling with malice. "Isa?"
Saïx mirrors her expression: his face is a mask, closed and empty, a thin smile curving across his lips. "Remind me."
Before any of them can even blink, Larxene pushes against him, forcing the breath out of his lungs; Axel does not need to see her face to be able to imagine the expression she wears, twisted into one of mingled fury and hatred. His breath hitches in his throat as he watches the blonde press herself against Saïx, locking her lips with his.
For several moments, all he hears is the feverish pounding of his blood in his ears; for several seconds, the two he – as Lea – used to cherish as his closest friends, remained together, locked in a passionless embrace. Finally, Larxene pulls free, wiping her mouth, taking with it a smirk, bitter and brittle. "So, you really forgot." The words she throws forth are not so much a question as a statement, heavy with implication. Saïx does not deign to respond, and, with a disgusted snarl, the Nymph pushes herself away from him, turning on her heel and storming towards the corridor, straight into Axel's path.
At her approach, he summons a Portal, allowing the darkness to consume him; the last thing he glimpses, before the roiling shadows whisks him away, is Larxene's face, eyes glazed with something he cannot quite identify.
- - x x x x x - -
He should have known he was not able to satisfy her; after all, were they not all beings without hearts? Perhaps she missed that vital spark from when she was still Aerlen, and searched for that same searing intensity, an intensity he could not provide. Why, then, would she look for it in Saïx, who had been cast adrift even further than he had?
If anything, seeing Larxene with him had brought back unwarranted memories from the past, dredging up fears from when he was still a teenager, hapless and uncertain: Isa had taken things gamely enough, cracking jokes at his own expense. Now, Axel wondered if there were signs he'd missed along the way, if he had ever heard his friend questioning his place in the trio, in the unofficial couple Lea and Aerlen had become, despite their vehement denials.
What would he have done, Axel wondered, if Aerlen had chosen Isa instead?
The sound of footsteps, brisk and angry, jolts him from his reveries; glancing up, he catches her at the upper balcony of the Hall of Empty Melodies, storming away from the Grey Area, and steps forward to intercept her path. He remains stubbornly in place until she stares up at him, gaze bland and disinterested, with teal eyes as cold and dark as the deep blue sea. "I saw you."
As soon as the words leave his mouth, he knows it's a mistake. Once more, he is Lea, the gawky, naïve boy, and not Axel, the Nobody. Why should he be pretending to have emotions, to feel resentful of the attention Larxene had just bestowed upon the person who had once been his closest friend?
Her laugh is harsh and almost derisive, and, with an arrogant toss of her head, she glares at him, a defiant fire blazing in the depths of her eyes, chin raised with sneering insolence. "So? What do you care? We were never exclusive."
"That's not the point." He forces himself to speak despite the dull throb of anger at the back of his mind, and Larxene only gazes steadily at him, a crafty, cunning smile flickering across her features.
"Do you want to know what he tasted like?"
Before he can speak, before he can react, Axel feels himself forced against the wall, the edges scraping against his back through his leather coat; a growl rumbles, deep within his chest, and he feels her pressing against him, edging him into an alcove. Her breath is hot and hungry against his cheek, and he tastes blood on her lips, feels chafed skin and knows, without having to think about it, that Saïx has already left his mark on her. The taste on the tip of his tongue is not quite the same; he remembers an Aerlen who tasted like summer, sweet and fresh, like elderberry wine. What he experiences now is not the same as then, during that stolen, accidental kiss they shared under a starlit sky.
Instead, he discovers a residual trace of something else, a stinging tang that leaves a lingering aftertaste in his mouth.
Huddled in that alcove in a tangled knot of limbs and leather, they are locked in a fierce embrace which seems to be more fight than anything else; he hisses under his breath when her fingers crawl to the zipper of his coat, dragging it down by degrees, and their kisses are all teeth, the two parties barely even wincing as sparks of static skip between their heated skin. Larxene pulls away momentarily, eyes aglow with a feral intensity; he feels her supple, lissom curves beneath his fingertips, whispers an oath as she presses her calf against his, shoving him further back; before they can go any further, voices wrench them from their trance, and Axel rears back slightly, pressing a finger to his lips.
Demyx's voice edges closer to the alcove; he complains about target practice with Xigbar, and the voice of the youngest Nobody in the castle, number XIII, responds.
Larxene's gaze shifts; she reaches up to trace a gloved finger along her companion's jawline, beckoning him downwards. "Why don't we bring this elsewhere?"
He gives her a hard, mocking smile – he has not quite forgiven her for what he witnessed earlier – and nods. "With pleasure."
- - x x x x x - -
epilogue. Ho ho ho! Things start to get steamy now. -shot for bad pun- Yes, two updates in about as many days, I'm really on a roll. This prompt is awesome, and once more, is related to Fractures. I think by this point, Letters and Fractures will be set in the same universe, and what Fractures does not cover, will certainly be explored in Letters, or in some other as-of-yet-untitled-but-planned oneshot collections I will be working on.
Yes, I've said this lots of times: I love Saïx. And, after reading some fics, I've decided I quite like Saïxene as a pairing, (even if it has like, nada evidence and is pretty much a crack pairing) though not nearly as much as Larxel. I mean, once you look at the Fractures-verse, it all makes sense. -shrug- So I'm keeping it that way.
Mmhmm, even in such situations, dear Larxene is still very feline in her behaviour, and Axel is surprisingly well-equipped with dealing with it. Heh heh. Perhaps this will be continued further along the series, we'll see how things go.