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two
high
hopes
She first meets him in the park where she's drawing another happy future for herself, one she'll hang up on the wall and hope for, one she knows she'll never really get.
He's in his twenties, with dark auburn hair and intense blue eyes, dressed in all black despite the weather, and she can hardly believe him, can hardly believe the situation at all.
She never gets attention from boys, much the less men, and she smoothes her skirt and throws her hair over her shoulder and smiles, really smiles, because she hopes her eyes may sparkle when she does.
He introduces himself to her.
His name's magic on its own.
Marluxia.
And when he says her name, when he says Naminé it's all she can do not to faint into his arms.
They sit underneath the tangerine tree and talk about the world, how it was when they were young, all magnets and miracles, and they watch the world spin on without them.
---
He starts visiting her at her tree, every day. She should take it as a bad sign: it means he doesn't have a job, her mother would say. Her father would add that no man his age shouldn't be able to contribute to society. And Kairi would call him nothing but a lazy bum.
But he brings her flowers, brings her pale roses and alyssum and carnations to match her skin, her hair, her dress. He calls her his garden girl and she falls asleep more than once in his arms, dreaming underneath the heavy summer sun.
And he holds and holds her, sometimes too tightly, but she doesn't notice, because as long as her body can breathe, nothing is wrong in the world.
---
She knows it's better to keep him a secret.
Even if he's the best thing to have happened to her, even if he makes her world better, her grass greener, her sun brighter, her sky bluer, even if he's her highest highest hope, nobody would ever ever understand.
Friends of hers keep trying to set her up with boys: there's Sora down the street with the pretty smile, but not as pretty as Marluxia's; there's Roxas with the bright blue eyes, but not as bright as Marluxia's; there's Zell with the rip-roaring laugh, but not as good a laugh as Marluxia's.
She tells them all she isn't looking for anyone.
(And why would she?
She already hopes that one day, Marluxia will choose her.)
---
It's only later that she notices it, when she lets herself see a little clearly again: he has dark circles under his eyes.
Are they new? Have they always been there?
She doesn't know. She's always seen him as perfect, flawless, an angel.
And she asks him if he has a place to stay, food to eat, a home and a family in it. It's really none of her business, but she can't help but worry.
He tells her that when you have Hearts, you don't need to worry about any of that.
She asks him what Hearts are.
He only smiles.
---
Hearts is the new drug sweeping the streets. It's everywhere and oh darling, if you want some, you better know just what you're getting into. Hearts isn't for the faint of heart, oh no, Hearts is something you're addicted to from the very start and Hearts is better than every goddamn drug you've ever had combined.
There's no describing it.
You have to feel it for yourself.
And that's how fucking good it is.
---
But Naminé thinks nothing of the Hearts, or Marluxia mentioning it.
Her mind is on other things.
She thinks a lot about what would happen if he kisses her. She wants it very badly, and she hopes he does too.
All she's seen is movie star kisses, so she hopes it's at a barbecue with firework smoke in the air and lights in her heart.
The way it always is. The way it's supposed to be.
It falls out differently.
---
She is in his arms, working on a drawing of a beach time scene a kid requested about twenty minutes ago.
The ball bounces on the page, all bright color and memory; the people sway with the wind, sleepwalking back again to their cars loaded with shovels and film and sunscreen; the sun shines bright on the sapphire sea, and she sighs because oh, the people in the picture are so, so happy.
She tells Marluxia this and feels slightly worried when his eyes go a little dark.
"And you aren't happy with me?" he asks, more curious than hurt.
"N-no," she stutters, "I am, it's just that I…"
He shoves his tongue past her lips to swallow the rest of her question. It hurts at first, hurts because Marluxia bites her lip and she can taste her own blood, but he's still kissing her and if a boy kisses a girl, then the girl is always very very happy, so she kisses him back, tangles their tongues together. She is sloppy, uncertain; he is stronger, more confident.
And when Marluxia pulls away he only smiles.
"You won't leave, Naminé," he says darkly. He doesn't phrase it as a question. She's very very scared.
"I-I won't, Marluxia," she says nervously. "I-I promise."
And she doesn't move, doesn't say a word for the rest of that day.
And Marluxia knows now that he doesn't need to do anything else.
He already has her.
---