A/N: I don't really have an explanation for not updating in eons. There was a certain part of the story I got severely stuck on and there was point I seriously just considered deleting the story. But I told myself I was writing this fic for a reason and that I was just having a bad case of writer's block –dies- Anyways, I'm here updating now, so hopefully this chapter pays off. I tried to make it as long as I could for you guys!

All I know is that once this chapter is over, it'll be gone and I won't have to deal with it again! –dies- I'M SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!!!

I pray that you'll enjoy this.

Opinion: Fear is Rational

Two weeks later. A Saturday morning to be precise and the house was as silent as usual. Zexion's father was gone again; taking early shifts and probably wouldn't be home until the afternoon. Fuu was supposedly dormant in her room, though it was highly probable that she had snuck out long ago and met up with her thug 'friends'.

Zexion padded into the kitchen, running a hand through his bed-head hair. He grabbed a box of cereal from the pantry and milk from the refrigerator and sat down to eat his breakfast alone. The only sound in the house then was the clinking of the spoon and the soft crunches of cereal being eaten.

It wasn't that big a deal – being alone, that was. Zexion was used to it by now. And actually – if it wasn't apparent yet – the teen liked his solitude. There was no noise, no people…just him and quiet. But that was something Zexion learned to live with and love.

Losing yourself in nothingness, he thought as he began to wash his bowl, is the most enjoyable feeling to me. It is the closest I've ever felt towards euphoria. I don't feel lonely. I'm never lonely. If one were to experience such a thing…it would indicate a want for company. But I don't need other people. I just need myself. I just am. I am me – and that's all I need.

The only things wrong with that philosophy was that no one else seemed to accept it. No matter what you think or know, there will always be someone to contradict you; say you're wrong.

"Just talk, Zexion! Goddammit, you act like the whole fucking world is against you!"

"Ngh…!" The bowl fell into the sink, the clatter echoing in the house. Zexion's countenance was contorted in pain, and his heart suddenly felt heavy. No, that was the wrong word, the wrong expression entirely. He wasn't bleeding, so there was no way he could be in pain – his heart most certainly couldn't be in any harm. The teen quickly scrambled to think up facts to blow away his emotions.

The heart cannot feel emotional pain. The heart is not some central organ that gives and receives emotion. It's all in the head – just your mind. Zexion gripped the counter, his knuckles turning white. Since it's just my head, I need to stop. Stop thinking about her. Something else…!

Ring! Ring!

Zexion jumped, the phone's rings wailing like a siren in the empty house. Back to his senses, he stepped out of the kitchen to answer the phone. "Anderson residence, Zexion spea-"

"Yes, yes, I know it's you, Zexion! You're the only one ever home, like, ever!"

The teen resisted the urge to bang his head against the wall. In his world, there was only one person he knew to be as irritating and chipper as Demyx. Unfortunately, this person also happened to be the co-manager of the store he worked at, and – as a miniscule employee – had to answer straight to her.

"Selphie, I would appreciate it if you didn't repeat words so closely together," he murmured, brushing back his bangs. "It makes me irritated to hear such errors in speech so early in the morning."

"Whatever, you're always irritated, Zex," Selphie pointed out with a bottom-lip-stuck-out voice. Another thing worth noting was that Selphie was the only one other than Demyx to dare give him a nickname.

Zexion sighed, wishing he hadn't answered the call now. "Well, what is it you need?" he asked, perching the phone in between his cheek and shoulder as he crossed his arms. "That is, I am assuming you require some sort of assistance if you're contacting me?"

"Yeah! See, we're going to be short-staffed today, which is never a good thing on a weekend." Perking up, she said cheerfully, "So I need you to come here and fill in!"

You could practically visualize the phony heart at the end of that sentence…

"…Fine, expect me there within the hour."

"Yay! But hurry, pretty please? Thank you, Zex!"

Zexion twitched, a rather jock-worthy retort building up when he heard the audible click on the other line. The teen huffed, placing the phone back onto the cradle. It was going to be one of those Saturdays – the one in which persistent co-managers would take advantage of defenseless, solitude-craving employees. Much like a hawk stalking its snake prey, if you wanted to put it into an analogy. But why didn't Zexion fight back like a sane person, one may ask?

The teen remembered a certain day when a fellow worker had stood up to Selphie back in his sophomore year. It hadn't really ended well – the woman pulled out a seemingly innocent jump rope from the children's aisle and literally whipped the poor sap's ass out the store. And like any other foreboding recollection, it had an ominous ending – no one ever saw the guy again. And Zexion was a smart guy – he learned from others' mistakes, so he made sure never to cross the brunette without care.

I mean, that jump rope was more evil than it looked!

But Zexion just had to keep telling himself that he needed the money. That – being the eldest and only son – he had to help his father support the family. Although his kin would probably care less….

"Zex-i-oooon, aren't you finished putting price stickers on the tampons, yet?" Selphie asked, nearly causing the slate-haired teen to jump out of his skin.

Taking a collective deep breath, he asked, "Selphie, please inform me again as to why I'm pricing…tampons?" He lowered his voice to emphasize the dreaded female product. "If anyone was to come by…they might presume me a…a…"

"What, a pervert?" she supplied nonchalantly, tucking a lock of brown hair behind her ear. Her emerald eyes looked up into empty space thoughtfully. "Hmm, in any case, we had to restock. I think it's because a lot of girls have their periods around this time of-"

"Alright, alright, you made your point!" Zexion exclaimed, waving his hands in a plea for her to cease. It so happened that right at that moment, a pair of girls – no doubt cheerleaders with their clothing, or lack of – walked by. And one look at the teen in his pitiful predicament had them in a fit of giggles. One even sneered in clear audio, "Fetish alert."

Now Zexion, for all his intelligence and rationality, also still had his pride. And with that comment the girl uttered, it had definitely been knocked down a couple of pegs. When they left, the teen rested his forehead on the cold metal of the shelf. "This is utter torture," he muttered in contempt.

Selphie rolled her eyes, but brought Zexion's head back up. "Aw, quit your angsting, Emo Kid," she ordered, handing him another package to price. "The sooner you get this done, the sooner you get to get away from the scary tampons!" She waved the package menacingly, her voice changing mildly ominous.

Zexion snatched the package away form her. "I'd like to point out for the up-tenth time," he shook the price-stickering device at her threateningly, "that I am not emo because of the style of my hair!"

"You know," the brunette started, ignoring his protest, "if you don't stop complaining, Zex, I'm going to have to partner you up with Marluxia. And we all know no one wants to see two seemingly gay guys price tampons together."

"You and your goddamn stereotypes," he muttered as Selphie walked away. Reminding himself of what she said before, he hurried to finish up his task.

At least he was a senior this year. This was a year he'd been looking forward to for a long time. After June fourth, that was it; he was moving out – out of that house and away from that family. He already sent up his application to Never Was University and had gotten a letter back that said they were interested, but it all depended on his graduating status. But that was an easy prerequisite for Zexion to follow up on. Now all that was left was raising enough money to support himself. And he dreaded ever asking his father for a loan – Zexion was a do-it-yourself kind of guy.

"..Finished," he declared through a relieved sigh. He began to gather the empty boxes when his headphones suddenly buzzed to life with a familiar voice in his ear.

"Zexion, are you there?"

Dear god, if it wasn't one thing, it was another. The teen put on his communication device and replied, "Yes, Selphie? Do you need some assistance again?"

"Yes, I need some customer help, but I have my hands tied with the boss and a meeting," she said. "Have you finished doing the tampons, yet?"

Zexion froze in horror as she said that, but what was even more stupefying were the audible snickers in the background – obviously the customers he was to assist. But now there was just no way in HELL he was doing that when Selphie had said such a palpable sexual innuendo!

"I have…not," he lied, hoping the fib wasn't apparent.

Unfortunately, Selphie was more perceptive on lies than she was on suggestive comments. "Alright," she began with a voice that clearly said she had chosen to use her selective hearing, "I expect you in aisle 5 in two minutes." In her tone was the underlying venom known only to Zexion's trained ears.

He sighed, resigning, "…Fine." The click on the other line told him the brunette had hung up and was now waiting. The teen looked down at the empty boxes next to him and the price-sticker device still in his hand. He tossed his head back and groaned. How was he supposed to do all this in only two minutes?

"…Um, h-hey, you think you m-might need s-some help?" A hand brushed against his, making Zexion's mind fall back down to Earth. His light-blue eyes were suddenly met with ocean-deep ones, framed by blonde hair and plastic glasses.

"You," Zexion said, near close to yelping.

The girl was startled for a moment, snatching her hand back. "Ah, y-yes, me!" she exclaimed without making much sense. She waved her hands in an embarrassed gesture. "S-sorry, I d-didn't mean t-to eavesdrop or a-anything, I-I just…!"

Zexion scrutinized the blonde. She looked familiar for some odd reason – that hair color, those eyes and face… "You're Demyx's cousin," he finally concluded. He looked at her navy-blue employee uniform shirt, sweeping his eyes over the white embroidery of her name. "Yes, Roxanne, wasn't it?"

The girl looked up in mild surprise. "Y-yes." She licked her pink lips, calming down some. "I, um, heard the call Selphie gave you. M-Maybe I can help? You know maybe take these boxes out back for you?"

"You'd do that?" Rarely did someone ever speak to Zexion willingly, much less offer him help.

Roxanne looked at him with confused eyes. "Um, yeah, why shouldn't I?" Then her expression lit up with a sudden clarity. "Oh geez, u-unless you don't want me to? Th-this is for listening in to your conversation, wasn't it? Sorry, I-I didn't mean anything bad by it!"

Zexion raised a brow at her weird actions. "Um, please stop overreacting. It was just a question," he said slowly.

She cringed slightly, like his words physically struck her. "Sorry," she apologized, a flush staining her cheeks.

Zexion took a deep breath. The girl was a lot like her cousin when she was crestfallen. Maybe it was because of that he decided to tone it down a bit. "And actually I would appreciate it greatly if you helped me with that endeavor." He looked at his watch and widened his eyes incredulously. "I apologize for leaving on such short and informal terms, but Selphie gave me a time limit."

"O-oh, s-sure!" Roxanne exclaimed. The queer expression she gave him was the last thing the teen remembered before dashing down the aisles, in search of a certain brunette.

Never let it be said that Zexion wasn't a merciful person.

On top the innuendo Selphie had made earlier and the excruciating time limit she gave him, the customers he was to assist had been none other than a pair of basketball jocks from school who had apparently took great pride in mocking previous stated sexual comment in various ways the whole time Zexion helped them. Ignoring that idiocy for even an even greater one, the so called 'help' they had needed was locating the aisle that sold – to the teen's horror but nevertheless was expected – condoms. Two guys buying condoms.

Once again, never let it be said Zexion wasn't a merciful person. Although the teen strongly surmised that it was their subtle way of saying, "Guess who is and isn't getting some tonight?" Whatever, like Zexion cared about the dominant species' mating habits.

"Oh, you're back," a voice commented beside him. Zexion looked over to see Demyx's cousin, Roxanne, approach him. She offered a tentative smile and asked, "Um, er…so…so how did the assistance thing go?"

The slate-haired teen frowned. It struck him as sort of odd that the blonde was still talking to him. They had worked together for awhile now, not that Zexion had been much aware of that until he learned she was a relative of Demyx's. Still, Zexion thought that if she insisted upon a conversation, he'd at least give her something – he knew a guy like him was hard to approach for a girl like her. "It was irritating, to put it nicely. Honestly, why waste our time hanging signs fifteen feet in the air that clearly indicate what each aisle's products are if no one uses them?"

Roxanne emitted a small chuckle. "Yeah, we should probably stop giving that, um, kind of assistance."

Zexion ignored her and continued walking.

And…Roxanne kept following.

Sighing deeply, Zexion turned to her and asked, "Is there…something you need?"

She blinked in surprise. "Wh-what?"

"I just have a notion that you won't leave unless I indulge you in some way."

Roxanne considered this, and then asked a bit randomly, "S-so what do you like to do?"

Zexion raised a brow. "Excuse me?"

Her cheeks tinted red in embarrassment. "Um…you know…what do enjoy doing?" she asked again, tentatively at the teen.

"…" Idly, Zexion checked his watch, doing anything to avoid answering any questions. "My shift is just about over. I'll see you another time, perhaps?"

Roxanne looked stunned at the sudden change of topic, but nodded. "Oh, um…y-yeah, I'll see you later."

Zexion gave a small wave and turned away. As he walked down the aisles, he couldn't help but recall the slight hurt and disappointment in Roxanne's voice. It was a tone he used to hear a lot back in middle school when his parents sent him and Fuu to counseling. A sense of distaste flooded through his body as he recalled the days he used to spend stuck in a too-white, too-organized room, sitting on an uncomfortable chair as a stranger's eyes would drill into his, scrutinizing him with such a calculating stare…

Zexion never liked it when someone gave him that look, like they were trying to figure him out, like they were analyzing him. Questions about himself always got him unsettled and he'd avoid them. He couldn't help it; it was a natural defense mechanism of his.

Protect yourself, got to put that impenetrable barrier around yourself, he chanted inside his mind. Don't let them see inside you. I'm the observer not the observed. Got to stay on top of them. If I don't, they'll take over, they'll descend me to their level; make me lesser. They're all stupid, stupid-!

"Stupid! It's all so stupid! And I'm not dealing with any of it anymore! If you can't change, Zexion, then I'll change things for you!"

Why did everything feel so dizzy all of a sudden? Why did…the world feel so surreal? Zexion swayed, but quickly collected his proper footing and went into the employee locker room. Once he was alone, he took a deep breath and undressed from his work uniform.

What's going on with me? he wondered, still breaking out his daze. Why am I remembering so many things…about my mother lately? He walked out of the locker room in the jeans and black shirt he had on previously. He pressed a hand to his forehead, feeling the warm skin radiate against his palm. I wonder if my memories are...beginning to…plague me…physi….cal…ly….

"Whoa, hold on there, Zexy!" A hand constricted around his arm suddenly, pulling him back from the pole he had been about to run into.

The teen blinked, his senses gradually returning to him. The hand on his arm spun him around. Oceanic eyes locked onto him, pink lips spread in a dubious smile. Demyx tilted his head to the side. "I was going to just let you keep walking, because I thought you'd step aside or something. I mean, you look more coordinate than that." He chuckled lightly, looking at Zexion teasingly. "But like the saying goes, right? 'Don't judge a book by its cover'?"

As nonchalant as the blonde was, the same couldn't be said for a quasi-dazed Zexion. Seeing Demyx there all of a sudden had easily caught him off-guard. "Are…are you stalking me, Demyx Watera?" he demanded, eyes wide in incredulity. He looked down at the hand that was now holding his wrist. Zexion quickly wrenched his hand away, wondering why his skin felt hot where Demyx touched it.

The swimmer wasn't fazed, but sighed. "I help you out and the only thing I can get from you is if I'm stalking you? Didn't you pay attention in kindergarten? You're suppose to say, 'Hey thanks, Demyx, you really saved me from losing brain cells right there!'"

"Never will you catch me saying that," Zexion said, quickly amending the blonde's quip.

"I'm not stalking you either, FYI," Demyx added, an embarrassed blush tinting his cheeks.

"…Really, now?" the slate-haired teen asked in full disbelief. "So you mean to tell me that you just happened to walk into this store in which I'm employed and that when I was about to bump into that pole, you just happened to walk by and stop me?"

Demyx offered an up-beat smile. "Haven't you ever heard the saying about the Fates having a strange sense of humor?" he asked through a shrug.

"I don't believe in such ridiculous notions." Zexion turned heel and began to walk away but Demyx quickly caught up.

"Okay, I'll be the bigger man here. Whatcha doing?" he inquired, putting his fingertips together and giving the teen an expectant look.

"Incidentally I was about to ask you the same thing," Zexion remarked, raising a brow. The automatic doors of the store opened as they approached the exit. Zexion took a deep breath upon stepping outside, the slight autumn breeze gently blowing his bangs into his face. Noting that Demyx was still following him, he gestured pointedly at the bus station on the other side of the street. "I'm going home, okay? I'm assuming that my company is no longer required, so if you'll excuse me…"

"Well, hey, why don't I take you home?" Demyx asked, smiling widely, looking like he thought up the most wonderful idea ever. Except it wasn't, and Zexion told him as much. Still, the swimmer wasn't daunted. "I was supposed to stay until my cousin Roxanne got off her shift, but I still have another hour. I got here early to check out the CDs, but whatever, I can do that whenever."

They were still walking side by side and almost at the end of the street now. Zexion looked over at the blonde when they were two feet from the road. The end of the street was farther away and it was easier to jaywalk when the bus stop was literally just ahead. "You can go now," the teen said insistently, looking behind at the store. "Really, I can just use the public transportation."

"Dude, there are crazy people on the bus. One time I was riding on one back in my freshman year and there was this old guy just talking on and on. I thought maybe he had a phone or a Blue Tooth but the guy was just having this conversation with someone who wasn't even there. Plus, the buses smell," Demyx added, wrinkling his nose in emphasis.

"Good-bye, Demyx Watera," Zexion repeated, waving his hand tersely. He turned and looked at the street before him. The cars were whizzing by, the wind they left behind blowing through his skin as they tore through the air. Zexion's heart sped faster, something keeping him in place even though inside he wanted to run far away from the dangerous road.

Oh, this was the part of the day Zexion hated – crossing the damn street, especially on the weekend where there were more people about. It really shouldn't be a big deal, so he needed to stop acting like a child! The teen swallowed his fear – when had he recognized his feeling a fear? – and just as he took another step towards the street…

Another car sped by, the engine roaring and the bass of the music within vibrating under Zexion's skin as the backing wind nearly swayed him towards the raging car. Zexion gasped and backed up, his heart thudding, his mind reeling… His back met something warm and soft, something human. Demyx. The teen looked up at the swimmer. "You're still here?" he asked breathlessly, meaning to sound frustrated, but it came out as a little abashed.

"Good thing I still am. You look traumatized," the blonde pointed out, oceanic eyes scrutinizing Zexion's face. "You okay? It's like you saw a ghost or something." He looked off at the cars going by and then back at the slate-haired teen's countenance. "You don't like crossing the street, do you? The way you're acting…it's like you're scared to," he said, with a note of amusement.

Zexion scowled at the swimmer's expression and moved beside him, facing away from the road. "Why do you look so complacent?" he murmured, something hot tinting over his skin. He realized he was blushing and quickly shifted his bangs to better cover his face.

Demyx chuckled and leaned into the slate-haired teen's face. "I just never pegged you to be afraid of something before. You usually act so superior." Zexion glanced at the small grin on the blonde's face. "It's a bit weird, like you're actually human."

"You never believed me to be human before?"

"Haha, not like that. Don't take it so literally."

"…" Zexion wrapped his arms around himself. He was reminded of that same day he spoke to Demyx for the first time, when he heard the blonde's laugh ringing in his ears so pleasantly. Why? Why did Demyx intrigue him so much even though he was supposed to be unappealing? Why did he continue being this queer mystery even though Zexion was supposed to have him already figured out? It made no sense. "My…my fifteenth year, I was…walking to my bus stop…"

"Huh?" Shoes scratched against the cement as Demyx stepped closer. Zexion could feel warmth and…he smelled something unfamiliar to his senses… Was Demyx standing so close?

Zexion rubbed his hands against his arms, consciously gliding over and over the smooth scars on his left forearm. "I was walking to my bus stop…" His mind was a little short in bringing up all of the memory. All he remembered was the darkness of the dawn, the street lamps bathing the roads in orange. And then… "The bus pulled up just as I arrived across the street. I ran to cross but then a car came. I hadn't noticed it, so preoccupied with catching the bus…"

He chanced looking up, and saw Demyx's eyes staring at him in surprise, his lips in a thin line – he knew what happened next. Zexion pulled up his sleeve, revealing the scars along his left forearm. "The first impact I remember was the edge of the hood cutting into my arm – it was always ajar because it was broken, or so I was told later. I was…too short to fall onto the car, and instead I landed onto the street. The driver hadn't noticed – it happened too fast…but next thing I remember was…everyone at my stop crowding over me."

Oh yeah, he remembered that part. People he hadn't even met shouting his name, bending over him. He hadn't been able to make out the faces in the darkness of the dawning sky. He hadn't even felt the blood that had been escaping through the back of his head. He had, though, felt the humid morning air sting the cuts along his shoulder and forearm. His eyes had been overflowing with tears before he had known it, his screams of pain were ripping through the had-been quiet air.

Then it had been just a rush of movement and pain and siren wails and white walls, white coats, white sheets… "I was hospitalized for a while, but eventually there was nothing left but scars …" He pushed down his sleeve and felt over his clothed torso. "Bloody bruises over my chest, one of my ribs had cracked…nearly my whole left side had been useless to me for weeks."

Demyx tentatively traced over the spots Zexion had, the delicate brushes of his fingertips sending the teen's body into some frenzy. Quickly, Zexion pulled away, and the swimmer snapped his hand back. "S-sorry, man," he apologized, but out of pity or for his actions Zexion wasn't sure. Either way, he didn't want to speculate.

Zexion looked over at the street behind him and almost glared at the passing cars. "It doesn't matter how many times I try to tell myself that it's over and done with… I'm still dragged back to that day every time… And I resent it." Fear is how they get into you. Fear is how they prod you apart, trying to evaluate more and more…!

Demyx tilted his head to the side, observing the teen silently. "Well, I don't think you can help that. Even if you try to set your mind to forget, your body…" He swept his eyes over Zexion's left side, "…will always remember. Or so my mom told me."

"…"

The swimmer offered a smile and gave a backwards nod toward the parking lot. "Listen, not to seem like I'm manipulating your fears, but tell me: does it sound better to wait to cross the street or to come with me and I'll take you home?"

Zexion set his lips in a thin line and murmured, "You don't know where I live."

Demyx held up his hands. "Well, by all means, Zexy, tell me. Unless you want me to leave you here?"

"It'd be an inconvenience to you," the slate-haired teen argued feebly.

Demyx took it as submission and grabbed Zexion's wrist, very near dragging him away from the street. "Not at all! C'mon, my car's over this way. You don't live far, do you?"

"No…an acquaintance of mine takes me to school, though…"

The blonde sighed, looking like he was going to chastise the teen. "Zexy, can't you even call someone your friend?"

Haven't we gone through this before? "...You bring up the most awful conversations…" Zexion said dryly. "And you ask the most stupid questions."

"Incidentally, I think you give the stupidest answers," Demyx countered with a smirk. A moment later, the teen found himself inside the swimmer's car. The first thing he noted was that, just like Demyx's room, the blonde's car was horribly unkempt. Demyx chuckled after they settled into their seats. "Um, sorry about this. You just always seem to catch me at my, er, messiest."

Zexion didn't say anything, merely clicking his seatbelt into place as the blonde spoke. He frowned slightly afterwards. There was something about the scent of the vehicle...it was something vaguely familiar - a mixture of chlorine and citrus and an unknown frangrance. The teen felt an odd stirring within him when he realized it was Demyx's scent. He remembered smelling it a few minutes ago when the swimmer had leaned close to him. He couldn't recall if he had noticed it when he had gone over to Demyx's house. Zexion leaned back in his seat and inaudibly inhaled the scent as if it were a breath of fresh air.

"Alright then, Zexy, what's the course?" Demyx asked, oblivious to the slate-haired teen's musings.

Zexion quickly caught himself and answered tersely, "Um, Wilcrest Drive, the Meadowglen apartment complex."

Demyx nodded in understanding as he pulled put of the parking lot. "Hey, you don't live far from me at all!"

"Don't get any ideas," Zexion quickly dead-panned. "Otherwise you might just find you tutoring yourself."

The swimmer scoffed, turning the wheel to get onto the main street. "Zexy, you love me way too much to give me up that easily," he said confidently. His aquamarine eyes shifted briefly over the slate-haired teen's form. "I can tell you can't live without me."

"Is this a special occasion or is exaggerating just a favorite past-time of yours?"

Demyx shivered. "I think I actually got some frostbite from that cold comeback..."

Zexion stared blankly ahead. "...For the up-tenth time, it's 'Zexion'. Nothing more, nothing less." Somehow he knew pointing this out was completely futile, but for once, he just didn't want to be silent. He had some weird urge to keep some sort of conversation with the blonde, even though his social skills were about the equivlant of a rock.

Demyx hummed in passive disagreement. When they approached a red light, he took out a CD holder and picked one out, putting it into the CD slot. "So, Zexy, do you listen to much music? I hope you like Linkin Park."

The slate-haired teen threw his hands in the air in exasperation. Did the blonde in the world choose to use their selective hearing when he spoke? "…Whatever, I won't even bother," he murmured.

Demyx chuckled as he pressed 'Play'. "Does this mean I can call you that without fear of being killed with your death-glares?" he asked hopefully, although there was that ever-present teasing in his voice. "Hmm, Zexy?"

Heavy electric beats suddenly sounded around them, then a pulsing bass that preluded the singer's verse,

"Why does it feel like night today?
Something in here's not right today.
Why am I so uptight today?
Paranoia's all I got left..."

Zexion sighed, futily tossing back his long bangs. "I think you were born just for the sole purpose of tormenting me, Demyx."

The swimmer smiled proudly. "You mean torment you with my irresistable looks?" he smirked. "I think I fulfill my role quite well, don't you?" He looked over at the slate-haired teen, mocking a sultry expression.

There was a moment when their eyes had locked into a stare, and Zexion almost forgot how to properly function. Quickly, he looked away before Demyx began to tease him again. "...Whatever." He shifted his light-blue eyes outside, trying to focus on the blurring streets, the music, anything to keep himself from wondering why he always received these odd sensations when he was around the blonde. It was something to familiar, that it hurt him to even think about it. But it was because he closed the lid that tightly.

"Everybody has a face that they hold inside
A face that awakes when I close my eyes
A face watches every time they lie
A face that laughs every time they fall..."

He had created a spot that he concealed all his emotions and memories in, and vowed never to have recollections of them again. By keeping this lid down, he was protecting himself. Protecting himself against the world, against stupid people.

Demyx tapped his fingers against the steering wheel, banging his head along with the song, lip-synching the verses. Zexion distantly wondered if the blonde was in a band or something. He had that guitar-looking thing in his room and he was always tapping or singing something. Maybe one day he'd ask, just to throw something out there.

Zexion looked back out the window, feeling the heavy beats of the songs vibrate under his chest. It wasn't an unpleasant sensation, and what was even more surprising to him was that he wasn't annoyed by the music. He didn't listen to alot of it, considering he was a man of silence. There were those occasions when some people had their iPods and their phones on too loud during free times, but other than that, Zexion didn't really listen to music at his leisure. Music seemed like senseless noise produced by people who had nothing else going on for them. Listening to Demyx's music, he wished he had given the subject more of a chance.

After a while, Demyx began to audibly sing along and even Zexion found himself tapping his fingers to the beat, repeating the choruses in his mind because it'd be too weird to sing them out loud.

"You like to think you're never wrong
(You live what you've learned)
You have to act like you're someone
(You live what you've learned)
You want someone to hurt like you
(You live what you've learned)
You want to share what you have been through
(You live what you've learned)..."

Demyx just had to be in a band, otherwise it was such a waste of a great voice he had. Zexion never would've figured out there were so many...likable qualities about the blonde. He never would've figured out he'd meet such an unassuming person. He began to wonder what else he didn't know about Demyx. How is it I've never figured out this much about him before? I thought I knew everything about people like him. Did I...miscalculate? He's doing things I've never expected him to do, like...helping me. He could've left me there, but he didn't. How many other jocks would do that?

"Ah, here we go. This is your complex, right?"

Zexion was snapped from his thoughts when the blonde spoke. He looked up and saw the familiar black rooftops of the apartments. "Yes, you can just turn right here. I live not too far from the main office." He expected Demyx to just pull up and wait for him to get out, but the teen was surprised once more when the swimmer parked and turned off the engine.

"Alright, I'll walk you up to your door," he stated more than offered.

"Wh-what?" Zexion turned to the blonde, but before he could protest, Demyx had closed his door and was waiting outside. Zexion scrambled out of his door and out onto the lot. "H-hold on, I thought I told you..."

"Hey, you want to lead the way or am I going to have to start taking guesses?" At Zexion's stunned look, the swimmer smirked and went on ahead. After about two minutes of heading to several wrong doors, the slate-haired teen sighed in exasperation and half-bailed, half-led the way towards his apartment.

At the door, Zexion's curiosity peaked, and he found himself asking, "Why did you decide to help me to earlier?"

Demyx looked over at the teen. "Hmm?" Scoffing, he said, "C'mon, Zexy, do you really need to ask a question like that?"

The teen fished his keys out of his pocket and murmured, "I suppose it was a rather mindless inquiry..." And really, he hadn't known what he had expected Demyx to say anyway. 'Because I'm your friend,' or 'Because I couldn't leave you there like that?' After he locked the door, he began to shoo the blonde away when a hand took his wrist. Out of nowhere Zexion's heart nearly shot out his skin.

Demyx gazed at him with...affection? "Because I really wanted to do something nice for you."

Zexion widened his eyes. Well...he hadn't thought of that one, and yet it was as...equally odd. It was a little unnerving, especially since that look and those words were so... "Demyx?" the teen began slowly.

"What's up?" the blonde replied softly, leaning closer to the shorter male.

"Are you...a homosexual?"

THUD! Zexion looked in shock as Demyx's face suddenly connected to the still-closed door. Before he could even ask why in the hell he did that, the swimmer slowly turned his head and asked incredulously, "WHAT?" His face was reddening, but it was hard to determine whether it was from the impact or if it was a blush of embarrassment.

"You just seem a little too taken to touch me constantly. I just wonder if you do this with all males," Zexion explained, yanking Demyx up with the back of the blonde's collar. "Not to mention you blush rather easily and your overall appearance...leads me to that conclusion. Then again, you might always be this flamboyant."

"I...I see..." the swimmer rasped, rubbing his nose.

Zexion had to suppress a laugh at the sight. "My words aren't to be taken to heart," he remarked through a smirk. "'Don't take it literally,' I think your words were?"

"Wha-what? Were..." He narrowed his eyes at the teen. "Were you teasing me?"

The cornersof Zexion's lips twitched upward. "Perhaps," he replied nonchalantly. Demyx pouted then, his cheeks coloring a bit. Aqua eyes glinting indignantly and arms crossed…the image was just so cute, and Zexion immediately reproached himself for thinking it. He quickly surmised it wasn't a good idea to stare directly into Demyx's eyes for long; it only brought a strange, transfixed spell to overcome him. He wiped the forming smile on in face and cleared his throat.

"In…any case, you need to be going, correct?" he asked, looking down. Demyx looked at him in mild surprise, maybe because he sensed how strange Zexion was acting all of a sudden - in this case, making a suggestion without being a smartass. Nevertheless, he check his watch and widened his eyes.

"Ohmygod! You're so right! Well, see you later then, Zexy!" He dashed down the stairs, waving profusely when he got to the bottom. The slate-haired teen decided to offer a small wave in return. Once Demyx left, he felt his face turn hot, and he let out a breath he didn't even realize he had been holding.

When Zexion went to work again that Monday afterschool, he went up to Roxanne, who was running the cashier. When she finally had a spare moment, he murmured, "Reading."

"H-huh?"

He looked her in the eyes and repeated, louder this time, "I like reading, chiefly Charles Dickens. And...I also enjoy writing in my leisure." At her wide-eyed stare, he shuffled his feet idly and looked away. "You asked what I liked to do, so...there's the answer."

Roxanne blinked, then a small smile came across her face. "Y-yeah. Yeah, I asked you and you... Um, c-cool. That's, er, cool."

Zexion ran a hand through his slate locks. "You're Demyx's cousin," he stated rather than inquired. "T-tell me... What does..." Dammit, there it was again! That same uncontrollable blush crawling over his face!

The blonde girl peered at him curiously. "What about him?"

What about him indeed? Zexion wondered. I'm not supposed to be this curious about him... Trying to calm himself, he quickly muttered, "Nevermind," and left.

Xelruna: I'll have you know now, this is the most time I've ever spent on a single chapter. Right now I'm trying to figure out if it was a good or bad thing...:/ I REALLY hope it came out alright, though. I feel like I could've done a whole lot better but there was just this barrier and its name was this chapter. I think it got better towards the end... I typed out most of the chapter, but there had been only snippets I liked. I was going to keep it as it was, but I realized being an author was about sacrifices. So I deleted about half the chapter and started from scratch.

But I'll be back in shape next chapter, honest!

Reviews make me happy and make me believe I actually have a knack for writing this fic!

PS, Sorry for this being late, Jake :P