A/N: 'Ello, little duckies. :P It's been QUITE awhile, eh? I can't believe I haven't updated since frickin' June! D: Ack! And people still reviewed throughout the months. I thank you so much for keeping this fic alive in my absence. All I really have to say is a MILLION apologies! -bows repeatedly- School has completely taken over my life. I'm lucky to even write in my classes T_T But I'm alive! And quite honestly, I'm appalled I don't hve anything left to say. D: Hopefully I'll think of more later...

For now, it is Thanksgiving and I'm here at my aunt's house, updating. So eat your turkey and here's something to be really grateful for: the long-awaited update for Hybrid Theory! I did do my bst to make it worht your wait... (Even then, I may still fall short -dies-)

For Purple Glass and her friend: You two were the deciding factor that I had to get off meh arse and UPDATE! :D Much love! And enjoy -bows-

Opinion: Some Things Can't be Defined

Uncle Auron was a tall and broad-shouldered man (which made Zexion feel all the more short and scrawny). His shaggy, short hair was graying. A long scar ran down his face. He spoke little, but it didn't make him bad (although it didn't make him any less daunting, either). And, Zexion noted approvingly, he traveled light.

"Auron, are you sure this is all you need?" Zexion's father asked, frowning at the single luggage case and large backpack.

"Clothes, tiny essentials, and a small supply of books, Max," Auron explained tersely. He shed off his jacket and set it gingerly on the coat hook. "It is all I require. And it is not as if I am staying forever."

"I suppose so…"

Zexion watched the two of them idly from his place in the living room. Between his hands he was holding a well-used copy of Great Expectations, his favorite of Charles Dickens. He found that when he could never make sense of life, when there came along an anomaly or two, he could find peace of mind once more when he read this book. It was akin to how one felt when being with an understanding friend when you were down, or so Zexion analogized.

"Dickens again, hmm?" Auron asked the teen knowingly as he suddenly appeared before him.

Uncle Auron was perhaps the person closest to understanding Zexion. He never complained about Zexion's lack of communication, or thought he was an uber-nerd with a stick up his ass like most of the student body who noticed him believed. And probably even more notable was that he enjoyed reading just as much as the teen did.

"One of these days, I will convert you to Stephen King," Auron threatened lightly, a light smile on his face. Case in point. "Just you wait."

"Not until I am able to witness you get through A Tale of Two Cities," Zexion countered, offering what was his version of a grin.

His uncle chuckled. "How are you, Zexion? Your sister Fuujin…" He didn't finish the sentence. Auron was also very wise to the Anderson family situation. He never tried to avoid the subject – much to Zexion's annoyance – although he did approach it tentatively. He seemed to be the only adult who gave the matter another thought. Zexion's father had long since severed any real communication with his children.

Zexion's gaze fled to the safety of the bounded words of the book. All at once, his words were hollow and could-care-less. "She's out. If we are fortunate, we will be seeing her before eleven."

"This is a dangerous town when it wants to be," Auron warned quietly.

The slate-haired teen turned a page, continuing to read. "But it is my hypothesis that is the very reason she is not currently home," he replied impassively. "She gets a thrill out of danger."

"Another suspicion?" his uncle asked.

"No, just a fact," Zexion replied point-blankly.

Zexion's father came up then and patted Auron on the shoulder. "Alright, went to get set up in the study? I'll drag out the spare mattress and I already rearranged the furniture."

The scarred man nodded slowly, turning to his brother. "Very well. I'll follow you."

Zexion's dad gave his son a glance. "Reading again?" he asked, sounding pleased. "Have you already finished your homework?"

"Yes, I have. It was fairly easy," the teen murmured. He returned his gaze to his book, trying to focus on it - maybe hoping his parent would disappear if he did so.

No such chance. "Excellent. Keep that up, alright? That's the proper way to a top-notch university. Did Zexion ever tell you he's aiming for Never Was?" His father looked over at Auron, continuing to talk about Zexion's academic excellence. That's the only time he really noticed the teen. It was Zexion's only redeeming quality to his father, it seemed. Everything else was invisible to him.

"Your official applications are in winter, right?" his dad asked, dragging his son away from his book again.

"That's what the counselors say," Zexion murmured a bit sardonically.

"Alright. Well…don't forget to study. Don't fall behind now when it really counts."

"Of course not."

The two adult men headed out. Auron gave Zexion a meaningful look as he was escorted out of the room, leaving the slate-haired teen was left in silence once more.

But as past events should've taught him, the blissful peace would not last another minute. Just as Zexion was absorbed into Pip's world once more, the house phone rang right next to him. Sighing, he answered it reluctantly.

"Anderson residence, Zexion speaking," he intoned.

"You mean people actually answer like that still?" Demyx said in slight awe. "Oh, what am I saying? It's you, Zexy. You're old-fashioned like that."

Zexion almost dropped the phone. But he quickly caught himself, his heart accelerating so fast it was practically buzzing under his chest. It had been a week since the realization at Demyx's house and during school, the teen tried to keep as much to himself as possible. He spent lunches in a hidden corner of the library and made sure to hurry to his next class as soon as the bell rang. Not crossing Demyx Watera was a central objective in these tasks.

"How did you obtain my house phone number?" he growled. Angry. Dammit, he was angry! Zexion had worked hard to block Demyx from his life, yet the blonde just popped in like a cordial weasel. The jerk…

"Eh? Oh, that, I just asked Lexy," he explained in his usual upbeat way. "It wasn't very hard, you know. I should've asked him for it sooner, now that I stop and think about it…"

Lexaeus helped him! Argh, that auburn-haired boy was SO having a dictionary thrown at him: maybe then he'd know the meaning of the term 'sell-out.'

"But anyway," began Demyx again, "where have you been this week, man? It's like I haven't seen you at all!"

"That's because you haven't," Zexion affirmed. He slipped his bookmark in between the pages of Great Expectations. It was Demyx, so he knew this was going to be awhile… "Is that the only reason you're calling me? You're interrupting Charles Dickens."

"Oh, him! Don't tell me, I know who he is… Got it! He's a writer from way back in the day; he writes poetry! One of his collections was called 'The Flowers of Evil,' right?"

Zexion paused. "Demyx…that's Charles Baudelaire."

Now Demyx was speechless for a moment. "Seriously?" he asked in disbelief. "Aw, I can't believe it, all that for nothing…"

While the slate-haired teen had no idea what the swimmer was going about, but he was surprised at the information Demyx had spouted out. "Wait, so you've actually read Les Fleurs Du Mal?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh, that's the real title, right? French or something? Er, yeah, I skimmed through it," the blonde admitted. Then he chuckled. "Dude, did you know he wrote poems about lesbians?"

Zexion couldn't help but roll his eyes. "Of course you would notice that, Demyx Watera…" Checking out books for peeks at porn (even if it was in words) - seemed like the teenage thing to do.

"Well, what poem did you like?"

"Actually, I never read it," the teen replied quietly.

"What? I thought you were the bookworm, Zexy!" Demyx exclaimed, but with a hint of pride - he seemed pleased to have read something Zexion hadn't. And the slate-haired teen had to admit, he was pretty abashed about it himself.

"Well, I don't particularly read poetry," he elaborated, picking at the pages of Great Expectations. "I know of many poets and their writings, but seldom do I actually study them."

Demyx sighed. "Hmm. Too bad, you seem like a poetry appreciator-type person. And not just because you're a little geek," he added in good humor.

Ignoring the quip, Zexion decided to ask, "Well, what possessed you to read Charles Baudelaire, anyway? I never believed you to have the capacity to read something of that nature," he said - and he'd be lying if it wasn't a bit of a retort to Demyx's teasing.

"Who, me? Oh, well, I…I…" Demyx struggled for words. "I just stumbled upon him - really," he added in a self-ironic tone. "And anyway, I just figure poetry is the same as music only without instruments. They express through words, isn't that right?"

"Poetry is nothing like what teenagers listen to."

"It's all a matter of perspective," Demyx insisted.

Zexion scoffed. "Isn't it always? Perspective just makes differences all the more apparent. If every solitary person inputted their own view on something, then that thing can never be truly defined."

A short pause before Demyx answered lightly, "But isn't that what poetry and music are? I mean, why don't you try to define them: in an un-Zexion-like way – as in, no dictionary terms."

Zexion floundered. "I-I… No, look, we're getting off course," he quickly evaded (and he knew Demyx would catch it). He shook his head again at what he said, "No, wait! There isn't even a course! You called me out of nowhere, alright?"

"Oh yes, because I was expected to forget all about you when you fell off the face of the Earth this past week," said Demyx sardonically. "I just wanted to know what's been happening. What, it isn't reason enough for you?"

He specifically called to just ask where I've been. Initiatively obtaining my number…maybe…thinking of me… Has he…really missed me, perhaps? Zexion didn't know if he was becoming more or less tense. His mind was on edge but the frown slowly slipped from his face.

"Hardly," the slate-haired teen said. Then - maybe he was fishing for a certain answer - he asked, "Don't you have anything better to do?"

"Like what?"

"Like…homework, for example. Or some form of socializing?"

"I'm talking to you, aren't I?"

"That's not-"

"And how can I understand this gibberish slave-labor - aka "homework" - if I don't have my brilliant teacher to help me?" Demyx inquired rhetorically. At the question, Zexion, for a second, lost his marbles.

"Do I exist just to help you pass your classes?" he asked tersely, momentarily forgetting that that was why he was with the blonde in the first place. Screw all the points Demyx earned before, he just wanted to know where his portable teacher was. Zexion had almost forgotten the reason Demyx needed a tutor in the first place - to retain his position as Twilight High's swim captain.

Demyx sounded surprised when he spoke again. "Huh? Wait dude, what's up? Aww…did I say something wrong again?"

Zexion was quiet, thinking about what to say next. It seemed like nowadays he was saying more and more things on impulse. He knew why, and he knew who he always did it around. What he didn't know was how to absolve it.

"Zexion, I need your help upstairs."

The slate-haired teen looked up at his father staring down at him. His ears completely blocked off Demyx's voice as he locked eyes with his dad's eyes. Zexion's mind warped for a minute, and just for a split-second, he was transported into the therapists' office. He was a boy his parents hadn't wanted. He had a husk of a heart with nothing inside - just like those who created him.

("Zexion, can't you feel anything?")

The teen's attention was drawn back to Demyx when he heard the phone-muffled voice ask, "Zexy? You still there?"

"Um… Excuse me, please. I have things to attend to here," he said, giving in to his father's expectant gaze. "I'll…be at my regular table with Lexaeus tomorrow. We can talk then - after all, you have a lot of practice to catch up on and I have to wring his neck..." He hung up before he could hear a response.

One hand resting leisurely against his hip, his father repeated, "We could really use you. Let's go, we can't keep Auron waiting."

"Yes, sir," Zexion murmured, putting the phone back on the cradle and quickly following upstairs. As he did so, he couldn't help but think, once more, that he wanted Demyx's warm presence with him. The slate haired teen cast his eyes downward: looked like tonight he would need to write again.

Miss Lockhart was her usual energetic self – which, of course, wearied the impassive Zexion down when he went to her office Monday afternoon. A regular female Demyx she was, now that he stopped and thought about it…

Hands laced under her chin, she asked cheerfully, "So, how's the tutoring been going – ah, for you, I mean."

"I think I want to redo the past few years of my life, starting from when I first stepped into your office freshman year."

"Do I detect sarcasm from Zexion Anderson – almost as if he were a normal teenager?" she retorted triumphantly. She chuckled. "And it's not as if you didn't know what you were getting into when you signed your name."

"It should be confessed, however, that what I 'got into' is a lot more frustrating than what was originally postulated," Zexion murmured sardonically. As afterthought, he added, In more ways than one.

"Oh, you're two for two. I think Demyx is rubbing off on you," Miss Lockhart teased before turning to her computer (which was just as well since Zexion's composure faltered lightly and he averted his eyes). "But your efforts aren't for naught, it seems. Demyx is improving in math and science. Wow, you've got him into a B minus average in those subjects. See, I knew you were good for him."

Zexion licked his lips: a distraction from the tugging sensation at the corners of his mouth. Since I've skipped out on a week of lessons, his average could've been higher, but…he's surviving. The B minus was good news. The slate-haired teen felt a slight swell of pride as he thought of Demyx's improvements were the effects of the blonde remembering what Zexion taught him.

"Good to know he's not completely feckless," he finally replied, with his usual wit.

"Hmm," replied Miss Lockhart in a non-committal hum. "Oh, but he's still struggling in English, I see. Have you gone over that yet?"

Zexion rubbed the back of his neck as the counselor continued to survey the screen. Actually, no. At that point in time, neither teen even glanced at the at subject yet. Zexion thought it was the easiest lesson, so he sort of put off that subject for last. He told Miss Lockhart as much.

"Alright, just make sure to take care of that soon, please," she requested, leaning back on her chair. "I hear Demyx's coach is giving out grade checks within the month. It'd be nice if Demyx got good marks so he could stay on the team, hmm?"

"Yes, I know," sighed Zexion. There it was again – that constant reminder of Zexion's relationship with Demyx Watera: just a tutor to keep the precious swim captain on the stupid team. Afterward, there would be no relationship other than distant classmates.

Just as Zexion thought it should be.

"We're beginning our novel for the first nine weeks," he began to explain, trying to get his mind back on track. He pulled out a small book from his white binder and presented it to Miss Lockhart. "The Scarlet Letter. I figure that is as good a place to start as any."

Miss Lockhart smiled, lightly clapping her hands. "That's great, simply perfect! Ah, you're doing such an excellent job, Zexion," she complimented. "See? And to think you didn't want to do this-"

"What's leading you to believe my impression has changed since then?" Zexion interrupted, but his counselor ignored him.

The bell rang, signaling lunch. Miss Lockhart's eyes widened at the time. "Oh man! I was supposed to meet Cloud fi-I-I mean, I was supposed to be at a meeting-"

"It's okay, Miss Lockhart, even adults are allowed a social life," the slate-haired teen assured sardonically. "Especially since they still have the mentality of a high schooler…"

"Hey, I came back here for a reason," she defended lightly, shaking a finger at him. She quickly gathered up her bag and said, "Oh, Zexion, I'll call you up again in later this month to check up on things with you and Demyx again, alright?"

"Noted," the teen replied tersely, following the frenzied counselor out the door. Taking a deep breath, he willed his feet forward in the direction of the cafeteria.

Teenagers bustled past him, chatting loudly with friends as the cafeteria filled with a cacophony of idle chatter. Some bumped into him without so much as an apology, leaving Zexion with dirty sensations where they touched him. He balanced his lunch tray onto his binder after he got through the line. He tried to compose himself as much as possible as his light blue eyes quickly looked onto his usual table at the far side of the room. No one was there presently, which Zexion found he surprisingly panicked to. At least if Lexaeus had been there, he wouldn't appear as…vulnerable. And God knows how many vultures there are in high school…

He quietly settled onto the scene, staring down at his food. He couldn't believe how on edge he was. He was supposed to not give a damn about these people or what they thought of him. Yet it suddenly felt like they could all read his mind, see his flaws, observe his confusion, poised for attack…

Zexion choked on the macaroni in his mouth, the breath being squeezed out of him as warmth suddenly encased him. And that chlorine-citrus scent… Only one possibility…

"Nngh! G-AH!-God dammit, Demyx Watera – ack!"

"Couldn't hold back, Zexy," replied the blonde point-blankly. "I haven't seen you in eons and you were all alone-"

Blood rushed to Zexion's face. "You water-clogged little-! You're cutting off my circulation – enngh!"

"Alright, Demyx, get off him," came Lexaeus' voice behind the two teens. "Your homo hormones are causing a scene and drawing passerby."

"Oh yes, wouldn't want to traumatize the freshmen, now would we?" Demyx's arms left Zexion's body, leaving the slate-haired teen very hot all over and his heart racing. The swimmer immediately plopped down next to Zexion. Lexaeus silently sat down across from the two, an extra tray with him.

"Demyx, here's your tray," he said, sliding the extra lunch to the blonde. "And next time, give warning before you dump your stuff on me."

"My bad, Lexy. Thanks though, man."

Zexion cast a weary glance to his auburn-haired companion. "'Homo hormones'?" he repeated blandly.

"Don't feel creeped out, Zexy, all kids our age have them nowadays," Demyx replied placidly, having no qualms in expressing his opinion.

"Wait, wait." The slate-haired teen tried to get organized about the situation. He looked over at Demyx pointedly. "So…are you saying you really are homosexual?"

Demyx stopped eating, pausing mid-chew to glance at Lexaeus. The muscular teen returned the look, and the two seemed to be silently arguing about something. Zexion impatiently waited, thinking that this was tense enough for him without the answer to this question being denied him. He tried not to think beyond the answer to the inquiry – like why he wanted to know or what he'd do after he knew.

He sighed, flipping aside his bangs. "I know I made an observation of it before, but if you're heterosexual, then I meat no harm by it," he explained, picking at his food idly. "And as you've previously stated, experimenting with the same sex is quite common in our age group."

Demyx cleared his throat, patting his chest. "Uh, yeah…let's go with that. Er...experimenting or…whatever." He got quiet, proceeding to chug down his milk in one swing. Lexaeus emitted a hardly audible sigh of disappointment. Demyx heard it, and seemed irked by it as he scowled.

And Zexion tried to let it drop. The only problem with that was that he wasn't satisfied with his answer. He felt like he should've gotten something more; maybe he should pursue the subject… But he decided against it based on Demyx's new ambience. He seemed a bit withdrawn – maybe the teasing wasn't meant to be taken literally and the inquiry pissed him off in some way? After all, guys seemed to take offense in being called homosexual. Zexion never saw what was the big deal with sexuality in the first place. Among animals, if one decided to have intercourse with the same gender, it didn't even stir a ripple. Humans could afford to learn a thing or two from their wild counterparts.

In any case, whatever silent argument had been going on with Demyx and Lexaeus seemed to reach a stalemate. Speaking of which, when had their relationship reached a point where they could argue wordlessly?

"So, Zexy," began Demyx with a renewed smile, "when-oh-when can we resume our precious bonding time?"

"I suppose as soon as possible," Zexion replied with a shrug. "I've actually just spoken with Miss Lockhart: we should proceed to your English troubles when we can."

"Argh, English," groaned the swimmer. "Well, how about tonight? Better we nip this in the bud, right, and get it over with? Besides, I have practice to go to Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. Friday I'm going out with my friends. Hey…do you think maybe you'd want to come with us? I already invited Lexy but he said he couldn't make it," he snipped sardonically. "You're not going to let me down, too, are you?"

"Eh?" Zexion frowned at the offer. Well, what the heck did Demyx EXPECT him to say? Oh yeah, thank you, I feel so honored going out with your crowd? Yeah, not likely. He had enough idiots surrounding him daily and had no desire to be around them in his leisure. "Um, no, I don't want to go."

"Whaaaaaaaaat?" groaned the blonde. "How could you, Zexy? You could've at least made up an excuse instead of denying it so bluntly."

"What would've been the point in lying?" inquired the slate-haired teen. Knowing it wouldn't do for it to be cold, he resumed eating. "Now then, back to more important matters, would you like me to come over to your house right after school, or should I go home first? Your mother seemed surprised that I wear my uniform so often…"

"Actually, this is what I was thinking," Demyx interjected, casting a knowing glance in Lexaeus' direction. "I actually wanted to go over to your house for the tutoring session tonight. I've never been there except for that one time I dropped you off."

"And you never will be there ever again," Zexion quickly assured.

"Oh c'mon!" the blonde exclaimed. "Is there a real reason why I can't come over?"

"Is there a real reason why you should?" Zexion countered.

"And it begins…" murmured Lexaeus. The slate-haired teen opted to ignore him, aimlessly playing with his macaroni.

"Look, I just think it would be better for me to remain at your house," Zexion said. As an afterthought, he admitted, "And quite honestly, the notion of you in my home makes me uncomfortable."

"Unless you have zombies in your basement or porn hidden in your room, I see no reason why you'd be uncomfortable," Demyx said, drumming his fingers on the table. "And even then I'd want to go. C'mon, Zexy, just one time, it won't kill you."

"I…" He wished Demyx would just drop the matter, but the actual chances for that seemed, at best, slim. And truth be told, Zexion was nervous in more than one way about the swimmer in his house – in his room – touching things, making his presence known… What if after the blonde left, Zexion would still see the afterimages of him there? And then what: just long for him even more?

Longing. Zexion frowned at the word. He couldn't believe this was real. He was actually looking at Demyx Watera this way. He thought he quashed all this nonsense last night, when he stayed up writing – pages of it – just so he could get rid of it all. He wasn't used to his head being filled so much and…his chest, too. That was what Zexion resented the most; what made the least sense to him: the tight feeling in his chest. Especially now, when he was near Demyx, and conversing with him like all was balanced and undisturbed.

But everything was just not that.

"…and you can make up whatever rules you want, okay? And if it's your family you're worried about, don't worry, I totally know how to present myself. I mean, I have when I met past girlfriends' pare-"

"If I let you come over, will you just…shut up?" Zexion asked, a little tense. Demyx's eyes immediately lit up, and Lexaeus blinked in surprise. The slate-haired teen ignored these looks and pressed on, staring Demyx straight in the eye. "It's just one time, correct? Then I'll do it. But since I know that if we set up a time you'll be late, you're coming straight home with me."

The blonde blinked, then a small sultry smile formed on his lips. "Zexy, give a little warning next time: I didn't know you were so aggressive!"

Ignoring the quip, Zexion murmured, "My persona has always been as such, believe it or not." Actually, his therapists didn't even guess that back when he frequented their offices. Quite the opposite in fact: he was too passive. Chuckling to himself, the teen wondered ironically, If only they could hear Demyx's claim. Even if it was just a quip.

With a jangle of keys, the door was open. As Demyx stepped inside and surveyed the entrance hall, Zexion took off his shoes and placed them in a closet. He turned to the blonde, who was already strolling about.

"Demyx, get back over here and take off your shoes. It's a handful within itself to keep this place clean with Fuujin and my father without you dirtying it as well," Zexion snapped. Actually, that wasn't entirely true. Neither Fuu or his father were home long enough for there to be much mess to clean.

"Huh? Are you talking about Fuu? The same one in Seifer's gang?"

Zexion tried to ignore the disbelief, instead mentally punishing himself for not choosing his words wiser. Impassively, he replied, "She's my sister. Now get over here and take off your footwear. The sooner we get started the better."

The swimmer came over and kicked off his shoes. "Oh, sorry about that," he apologized, neatly placing them in the closet beside Zexion's sneakers. He loosened up his uniform tie and unbuttoned his shirt a little. Zexion, very much to his chagrin, observed the action and felt the slightest warmth creep to his cheeks at the sight of tan skin. "Hope you don't mind. It's hell just to keep my uniform straight at school."

"Um, no, that is fine," Zexion assured in a murmur, but he doubted Demyx heard it as the blonde stretched and looked around.

"So where's your room, Zexy?"

"It's just upstairs," Zexion said, rolling his eyes. "Contain yourself."

"Zexion?" came a voice up the stairs.

The two teenagers looked up to meet Auron's misty eyes. Oh. Zexion had forgotten all about his relative staying over at his house. He should've remembered it sooner; he'd have had another excuse to not let the blonde over for the tutoring session.

The older man stood at the top of the staircase and looked from his nephew to the tall blonde boy next to him. "Oh, you brought a friend."

Zexion was surprised to see Demyx straighten up, a sort of nervous expression in his countenance. "Good afternoon, sir. I'm guessing you're Zexy-um, Zexion's dad, right?"

"My uncle," the slate-haired teen corrected, and Auron nodded. "He's staying here on account of his transfer at work."

"Chief of police," Auron specified. "I actually start at that position tomorrow, which is why I'm here today." He gave Zexion an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, Zexion, I don't mean to impose."

"Not at all, Uncle Auron," the teen returned with a slight smile. He glanced over at the swimmer beside him. "I'm just helping a classmate study, so we'll be in my room."

"Alright, if you boys need anything," he held up a copy of A Tale of Two Cities pointedly, "I'll be taking care of some light reading. Zexion, you owe me."

"I just take pride in knowing you fell before I did," Zexion said, beginning to climb up the stairs, Demyx close in tow. As Auron chuckled and returned to his room and the slate-haired teen led the way to his, Demyx stared at him in amusement. It sort of made him uneasy, so he quickly opened the door to his room and settled his binder onto his desk. "Well, here we are," he announced. "Please don't touch anything; I'd like everything to remain as immaculate as possible."

"Does immaculate mean freakishly, Twilight-Zone-clean?" Demyx asked incredulously, his eyes wandering from the desk, to the neatly made bed, then to the stainless carpet. "Does the word 'decoration' mean anything to you? I can actually see your floor!"

"Yes, the world is a mysterious place sometimes…" retorted the teen blandly. He searched through his drawer and found a plain black barrette. Clipping back his bangs, he went through his binder and pulled out his copy of The Scarlet Letter. "Alright, Nathanial Hawthorne… Let's see what you can do with him… What?"

At present, Demyx was staring at him with a stunned expression: lips slightly apart in a gape, and aqua eyes wide, captivated, it seemed. Zexion felt his blood get hot and rush all over his body. A little impatiently, he snapped, "Demyx, we can't get anything started if you just stand there like an-"

"Y-you, um… You actually pulled back your bangs," he noted quietly.

Zexion's heartbeat sped up, but kept the scowl on his face. "Is that observation really what's got you so appalled?" he asked incredulously. Huffing, he said, "I just gathered that using these accessories are much easier for keeping my hair back rather than brushing it aside all the time when I study. Granted, I'll never do this at school-"

"Why not? You look…" Demyx stopped, any possible adjective lingering in the air.

The slate-haired teen fidgeted, busying himself by looking through his binder for notes that didn't even exist. Actually, this was the first time he had his bangs back. The barrettes he obtained from a box kept in the closet. One day for her birthday, his mother had given Fuu the accessories, but after she left, they were put away and forgotten. The night he took them, he holed himself in the bathroom, 1) to figure out how to put on the damn things, and 2) to see some sort of appeal in his appearance when he had them on. This was, of course, after he realized his relationship with Demyx. And he didn't see what was so amazing about his face: his nose was small and eyes a bit too wide, like the swimmer's.

But in his defense, it really was less bothersome than simply brushing his hair aside then having it fall back. He still felt naked for sure, but willed himself not to get the girly thing out of his hair.

"Okay," he finally said, sitting down on his desk chair. "Let's just get started with this. I know the English classes don't officially start reading until Wednesday, but with your nonexistent prior knowledge of anything before 2005… What are you doing now?"

"Nothing, just checking out your room."

Zexion sighed. "This isn't a museum, you know."

But Demyx ignored him, browsing the large bookshelf. Zexion huffed again, flipping aside the bangs that weren't even in his face. He began to think maybe it really was a mistake to bring the blonde here. He should've persisted more, or maybe he should've hung up when he picked up the phone and heard that cheerful voice on the other line.

He's making me into such an idiot…

After a few seconds of watching the silent blonde, Zexion began to get annoyed. "You're not going to find any books of your interest in there," he assured, albeit icily.

"You have so many," Demyx observed in awe. He laughed softly. "And yet…for all this knowledge… I can't find a single book about Zexy. I'm hoping somewhere in here is a book about you."

Zexion found himself narrowing his eyes. "Why on Earth would such a thing exist?" He shook his head. "You're so simple-minded, really…"

"But if there was a book about Zexy, maybe I'd be able to learn something about him," Demyx said, voice quiet still. He turned and locked his large oceanic eyes to the shorter teen. "I mean, I didn't even know Fuu was your sister. Heck, I didn't even know you had a sister."

"Present tense, Demyx, she's still related to me."

"Either way, I didn't know. I thought I told you I consider you a friend."

"It doesn't mean you have to know every solitary thing about me," Zexion defended, because he certainly did remember when Demyx told him that. It was the same day he realized why his body warmed up near the blonde, why he never left his thoughts for long…

"Which is why a book would be pretty helpful, huh?" joked the swimmer.

"Just keep wishing, Demyx Watera..." Zexion pointed over at his bed. "You can sit there while we study."

"Yes, Mr. Anderson, sir," lilted Demyx, sitting on the bed. As his hands smoothed over the blankets, he began, "So... This here Scarlet Letter... I'm thinking a red 'A'..."

The slate-haired teen smirked. "Nice to know you can observe a cover."

"It's a start, isn't it?" the blonde insisted, taking out his own copy of the book from his backpack. Zexion tried not to notice the disorganization in the inside of it. At one point in the session, as Zexion was explaining Puritan beliefs, he asked Demyx a question to quiz him on the subject. What he got for an answer though, was a soft smile and incredible eyes that seemed to adore him. "You really do look...handsome without your hair in your face."

Zexion threw his book at him, trying hard to keep hs blood pressure down. "Water. Clogged. Idiot!"

"I bet all the girls would chase you!" Demyx laughed, holding his arms up in defense. "The boys, too!" He ducked as another book was chucked at him, laughing as Zexion felt light sensations in his chest, almost lifting him.

Yeah, maybe he could get used to Demyx Watera at his house.

End A/N: And there we have it, folks! A complete update! And not a second too soon because my family's Thanksgiving dinner is now ready :P Time to get fat, lmao!

I hope everyone has a happy thanksgiving...even if it is a lie...and about people killing each other... (You'd be surprised at how much of a downer history can be :P) Of course, I'm not sure when I'll updat again. It's pretty likely I'll only update once more before the school year ends. Then again, given my schedule, you all might have to wait until summer. Yup, 'tis very sad. Next chapter will have conflicts! Please review :D I'm thankful for you guys, and for caring for my fic when I am absent. Only this emoticon can express what you mean to me: :'D (Tears of Joy).

Now if you'll excuse meh, I smell asparagus :D (Am I worthy of a review after so long?)