It was a very long wait, but eventually Zexion had spoken again. We had agreed to meet up again the following day, in the Yellow Meadow, at midday. And then, small victory having been achieved, we had fallen into mournful silence again.

And so that was how I came to find myself sitting at noon on Friday in that field of purest golden flora, waiting with bated breath for my friend to arrive.

I didn't care to admit to myself that the curious feeling in my chest was excitement, or nervousness; of course I didn't. What reason was there for any of that, after all?

As I stared out across the endless sea of flowers, I wondered quietly if Zexion really did see them as being as beautiful and optimistic as I did. Their vibrancy was in such contrast to the torments inside him, their lustrous glow so much brighter than the stars in his eyes.

Did he see them like false hope, trying to distract him from an eventuality he could not prevent?

I tried to brush such miserable thoughts from my mind. I had already decided that around Zexion, I must always act as cheerful and playful as possible, even if it didn't reflect how I felt inside. The poor kid scarcely needed my own thoughtfulness atop his own, after all.

I lay back into the masses of rich yellow fauna, staring up at the azure sky and playing absentmindedly with the many charms and bracelets adorning my wrist, beginning to become impatient for my friend's arrival. I wondered what we might talk about today; if, indeed, we were going to talk much at all. Yesterday certainly hadn't been full of nonstop chatter. But then, how could I expect such?

Considering the utter silence of my surroundings, it wasn't particularly surprising when I eventually heard the soft footfalls signalling the small, slate-haired boy's arrival, and sat up slowly to see him, feeling a slightly goofy, unnecessary smile pulling at the corners of my mouth. He looked even more fragile and feeble than the previous day, but at least he had come. And I was here for him; maybe I could alleviate some of that melancholy from him, if he asked me to. In the back of my head, I knew that this was one person who would never ask for help, but the point still stood. I would try to save him, if he allowed it.

"Hey…" I murmured softly, keeping a small smile plastered to my face as best I could while Zexion settled himself down delicately by my side. I received a quiet nod in reply, and for a moment I panicked; I didn't want it to be all silence right from the start..! But luckily for me, his lips parted just a moment later, the soft voice carrying easily. It didn't matter how many times I heard it; I simply couldn't get over the beautiful, soft quality of it – like a flute or an ocarina, delicately played – minimalistic, perhaps, but as pretty a sound as ever I'd heard.

"And how are you today, Demyx?" The question was spoken pleasantly, and I guessed that he was trying to get away from the troubles he had left in the B&B as quickly as he could, trying to absorb himself in my life instead of his. Fair enough, I could manage that for him.

"I'm fine, thanks," I grinned quickly, picking at the buttercups between us and vacantly starting to create a chain from them, enjoying the cool stroke of the silken petals over my fingertips. "Had to spend a lot of my evening doing coursework, though… It's not something I enjoy."

This prompted a small smile from my friend, who quietly began to create a flower chain of his own, barely even seeming to see what his fingers were doing as he worked. "No… Forgive me, but you don't exactly seem like the academic type."

I laughed softly, shaking my head to show I wasn't offended. "Not even close, I'm afraid. I'd prefer to just kick back with my sitar or go for a swim, anytime… Intense stuff like coursework kinda ticks me off, you know? What with all those deadlines, and…"

I trailed off, shaking my head slowly, devoting some more attention to the growing string of buttercups in my hands. I was itching to ask how Zexion was, too; it was just the norm in conversations, after all. If someone enquires as to how you are, you ask back. I didn't want to seem rude and not ask him. On the other hand, his little sister was dying and his mother had no time to listen to her son's problems. He was not in a good place, and he wanted to forget. I knew this. I still wanted to ask.

But I think Zexion could sense what was going through my mind, and he gave me an answer without me even needing to voice the question out loud. I had to admire, just for a split second, how perceptive he could be. He hid it well, but it was certainly there.

"Ah, I'm all right… It's good to be here. You're very pleasant company, you know…"

I had to fight to restrain a small moan at his words. As it was, I couldn't help but flinch a little. I didn't really know what I had expected to hear. But hearing a lie, and knowing it was a lie… Another of those curious stabs of pain twisted in my stomach.

I wanted so badly to confront him about it. I wanted to help him; I didn't want to just sit here and listen to him trying to fool us both into thinking he was all right. It just wasn't true, damnit! And I think he could tell, too, that I'd seen through his lie at once. He was silent, waiting for my reaction.

I struggled with myself internally for a few moments, eventually letting out a long sigh, trying to focus solely on my hands as I spoke.

"You're not, are you? You're not all right. We both know that."

My words came out flat and lifeless, but tinged with a sympathy and concern I hoped he would hear. I didn't want to just watch him hiding things from me. I wanted him to let me do something, anything, to help him. But almost immediately, running my words over in my head, I began to doubt myself; had that been a step too far? I'd never had to deal with a situation like this before. Had it been right to be so blunt like that?

Zexion remained static and terribly quiet for several long moments, long enough that I looked up from my forlorn little flower-creation, sudden worry streaking through me as I raised my head. I had gone too far, hadn't I? He must be angry now.

I turned my head almost nervously to the side to see him, already ready with an apology in my head. But the sight that greeted me was far more frightening than I had expected, and not for the reason I anticipated.

He was crying.

I could hardly believe what I was seeing, but they were certainly there; tiny, pearly droplets smearing down those pale cheeks, leaving behind shining trails and wet, spiky eyelashes. I was utterly bemused; he was like a stone, so emotionless, so solid and brave. Stones didn't ever cry. Zexion couldn't cry either, surely!

It took me a few seconds, but eventually I managed to get myself past the confusion, and onto the next phase. So, he could cry, but I didn't want him to.

He'd probably just throw me off if I tried to hug him, or hold him in any way. But, at the same time... I didn't know what else to do. And there was no way I was just going to sit here and do nothing.

Tentatively, I shuffled up closer to the boy and wrapped my arms around him, holding his body awkwardly to my own, not wanting to touch him more than necessary at this stage, in case he decided he didn't like me being there. Which, to be honest, I would fully understand; I was being stupid. I barely knew the guy. I shouldn't be getting inside his personal space like this just yet. I thought, briefly, about backing off a little.

But before I could fully comprehend what was happening, the boy had all but crawled into my lap, clinging like a baby to my t-shirt, hands curled into tight fists in the material as he sobbed into my clothing. They were ugly, choked sounds, and if it had been me, I would've despaired if anybody else had ever heard them. But I supposed, as he wailed softly into my body, that he was just too far gone to care about that; he'd been brave for too long.

This was it, then. The combined factors which had been tormenting him had at last put a deep crack into his armour, and now here was all the pain he'd bottled up, leaking out like blood from a knife wound onto the closest warm-bodied thing - me.

The little mewls and whimpers of anguish got more and more insistent as I pulled him closer to my body, rocking gently, and they grated on my slightly panicked mind. I didn't like hearing him in pain, not at all. I wondered what to do, and eventually fell to just rocking and making pathetic hushing sounds under my breath. That might calm him, mightn't it? Something had to. I couldn't let him continue crying. That would not do.

The unbearable tears continued softly, and hesitantly, I tried to push my face closer into the little ball of weeping teenager. I wanted him to look at me; I wanted to see his eyes, and for him to see mine, and for him to know that I wanted to help him, please.

I hadn't realised just how close I'd gotten to his face, but suddenly I felt my nose brushing against the soft skin on the other side of that thick, secretive fringe; skin I had never actually seen. I could smell his unique, vague scent, mixed with the frantic tears still scurrying down his face, and quite suddenly, I felt something bizarre stirring in my chest; I had no idea what it was, but I think it may have been linked to what happened next.

Zexion twitched as he felt our skins collide, clearly unused to the proximity of another person, and for a split second I thought about retreating. I couldn't see his eyes, couldn't tell his thoughts exactly; but what I did know what that he was already upset, and I certainly didn't want to worsen things.

But he didn't give me the chance to turn away. His face whipped around in a way so jerky it seemed almost feral, and our lips met.

I froze up, completely. I had never been in this situation before, and I had no idea what was expected of me. Did he want me to react, to stay still – what?

He didn't move away by the time a couple of seconds had passed, and so I could only conclude that this was no accident after all. The realisation seemed to soothe my frozen facial muscles, and suddenly I felt myself responding, without even putting any thought in. My lips parted quietly, just a fraction, and I tilted my head slightly, giving him an easier angle of attack – if you could call it that. His approach to the kiss was far less delicate than my own, his lips moving against mine in a way that seemed oddly desperate; although that barely mattered right now. All that mattered was the contact itself, existing, however little I had expected it to ever happen. Hell, I hadn't even known I wanted it to happen.

Eventually, the sweet pressure on my mouth began to decrease, and our faces moved apart. I heard my own soft, shaking breaths, and accompanying them, quiet sniffs and whines from Zexion. Of course – I had almost forgotten the state he had been in prior to the – the kiss. Our kiss. I could hardly believe it had actually happened, it was so improbable.

My arms were still locked tightly around the smaller boy, and just as I looked down into his face again, he looked up. Tears tracks were still sparkling on his face, and his mouth hung slightly open, breath coming in small, ragged sobs. Despite this, I couldn't help but remark to myself that he was sort of – beautiful. I reached up, wiping away the spatterings of sadness as best I could, earlier apprehension all but forgotten. There was something in his bluebell eyes which I couldn't place, a slightly wild, detached look which unnerved me slightly; but I could overlook it, for now.

"I'm so sorry..." he whispered eventually, head ducking away in shame. "I don't know how I can explain myself..."

"You don't need to," I murmured, truthfully, refusing to let go of his body yet. "You didn't do anything wrong, did you?"

"But..." There was hesitance in his tone, as if he had some kind of ulterior motive behind it all which I wasn't allowed to hear. I decided, again, that I could let it slide. He was just embarrassed, perhaps? After all, it didn't seem to be in his nature to share any of his pain or feelings. "...Thank you so much, Demyx. Most people would have pushed away an advance like that..."

"Yeah, well..." Now it was my turn to feel awkward, at a loss for words. "I... Let's just say... I find you quite – interesting. Catch my drift?"

The quiet boy offered a small smile to show he understood, before squirming away from me slightly, back onto solid ground, eying me seriously. "I know I am certainly invading upon your plans for the summer a lot recently... But do you think, perhaps... We could meet again, tomorrow?"

"Of course," I mumbled, instantly frustrating myself. My breathlessness, the sudden delight, was beyond pathetic. "Maybe we could go back to my house for a while."

"I would like that," Zexion replied, his gaze turning back to the dazzling sky above us, eyes resuming their normal vacancy and serenity. "Tomorrow is my last full day here. If you can distract me just for one more tiny day, Demyx... I'll be in your debt forever."

I smiled at this, regardless of the seriousness threatening to swallow us both up. "Hey, hey... Friends, right? No debts."