A/N: See? I told you I'd update when school ended. xD I finally kept a promise! -ray of light shines down on her- BEHOLD MY AWESOME POWER! -gets shot down by Zeus-
So anyways... -twiddles thumbs- there were a lot of songs I listened to keep me going. I like having little theme songs/jams when I write. And even though I hate Avril Lavigne (I like her older stuff...) I couldn't stop myself from thinking I'm With You was a good match for this chapter. Maybe it's just me? I don't know, listen to the song yourself and decide! 8D
For Melodious Zombie. Sorry for the wait D: I hope this chapter does not disappoint! :D
Please enjoy!
Fact: Empathy Goes Against Egotism
But this wasn't going to keep up. He couldn't let it. These damn walls were there for a reason. Walls weren't meant to be torn down. That's why they were created in the first place. For this placid exterior to crumble; for this cold heart to dream of warmth...it went against everything.
It would mean he was all wrong. And Zexion was never wrong. He knew the facts. He knew what was true and he knew what hurt. The best thing was that he knew how to avoid it all – all the mistakes that people made on a daily basis. But he had the upper hand in life, because he knew the logic, applied the reason...
...And no damned happy-go-lucky blonde was going to change that.
The only light in his room was form the silver over-head lamp on his desk. A notebook was sprawled open in front of him, and a pen was fervently filling it up with lines of words:
If there was an ocean
That could absolve all my uncertainty,
Surely I would find you there
To grab my hand before the tides took me
If there was an endless field
Where I could wander and die,
Surely I would find you there
To chase the comfort from my mind
He licked his lips, trying to transfer everything in his mind to the tips if his fingers and onto paper in coherent words.
There's a reason, I know,
That you keep appearing to me
But whether you're the poison or the cure
I'm not sure...
I don't know who you're supposed to be
After a minute of the pen's ballpoint tip lingering on the page, Zexion finally emitted a frustrated sigh. In a burst of agitation, he flung his pen across the room with a cry and buried his face in his hands.
It was the third night in a row he stayed up at night, just writing continuously. It was as if the shadowed security that night brought was what allowed Zexion to write so freely in the first place. His thought, his feelings were exposed, only to be shrouded by the dark hours. This was how Zexion was supposed to balance himself again and regain the equilibrium he so valued. But as the days went by, the late-night writing sessions became more desperate, words pouring out more frantically. The ink filled the pages, but didn't fill the uncertainty and apprehension stabbing the teen's chest constantly.
Get rid of it, get rid of it...! He repeated it over and over in his mind like a madman, engraving it in his head whenever it felt like its effect was slipping. His breaths were shallow and he was sweating. Get rid of it. Make it go away, get out of my head... I don't want it... I DON'T WANT IT!
"This...," he began in despair, "isn't working."
Zexion was at the front desk where Selphie worked, a note pad in his hand and writing down whatever the brunette told him to.
"...And out in the back are our the empty boxes from the Halloween shipments; don't get rid of all of them just yet. We'll wait until October ends for that. Which reminds me, get Xaldin to fix the Halloween display he put up – it's scaring poor children, which wards off customers!"
"Alright."
"Also," continued Selphie, counting off on her fingers, "remind Marluxia at some point that he needs to take out those dying lilies from the greenhouse. I know he has an obsession with flowers and all that, but presentation of merchandise is principle."
"Got it..."
"Ohmygosh! I can't believe I was going to forget this! Speaking of dying, Quistis had to take the week off to attend to family matters." Her green eyes looked up at Zexion hopefully, her fingers laced together. "So I'm going to rework you into her duties, alright? You'll be in co-charge of the pharmancy until she gets back. Vexen will show you how to do things there."
"Starting today?"
Selphie blinked. "Um, yes. Don't worry, Zex, it won't be like double-shifting or whatever. Roxanne is enough help and I'm sure she won't-"
"Alright, I've got it," the slate-haired teen replied tersely, but it lacked any usual bite his tone had. He closed up his pad and looked at Selphie blankly. "Is that all?"
The brunette offered an up-beat smile. "Yup-yup! That's it!"
"Then I'll get started."
"Ah, Zex is being such a good boy today~!" cheered Selphie. "Did you finally start taking vitamins?"
Zexion almost rolled his eyes. No, that's not it at all... Just as he was about to get started on his first task, Roxanne Keyli was standing in front of him, with a look on her face that suggested she had been waiting for him.
She licked her lips with her usual air of awkwardness, but with a determined breath, her large blue eyes looked up at him. "Um... Hi, Zexion," she greeted, waving weakly.
The teen nodded in distant acknowledgment. "Morning."
Her hands buried themselves in her jean pockets, her eyes just staring at his chest as she spoke. "Hey, uh, are you...okay? I mean, maybe it's just me, but, uh...you seem a bit out of it lately."
"Out of it?" Had it been obvious? Zexion had – for lack of better words – hoped that he had been behaving as he normally had. He tried to calm himself and he constantly kept his thoughts in check so something like 'being out if it' was impossible.
Apparently, he hadn't tried hard enough.
Roxanne nodded. "Is everything...alright?"
"I never even stated yet whether or not I am ailing," Zexion pointed out, evading the question. He didn't – couldn't – let anyone know about his weird thoughts. Especially Roxanne, who was connected to the source of this craziness in the first place. He could handle it all himself. Totally. Completely.
...He could...handle it...
Tentative fingers brushed against his arm, the same one with the scars that he always tried to cover with his long sleeves. "No, I can tell," Roxanne said to him, a peculiar look in her azure eyes that suggested deep empathy. "You're not tired or mad or whatever excuses people say all the time. It's like you're yourself...but you're...different at the same time."
I'm "me," but I'm...not "me"? Zexion had to admit, he didn't quite understand it. Then Roxanne said something that sent a strong surge of fear down his chest.
"It seems like you're resisting something. Like yourself."
Zexion almost staggered from the sudden heavy feeling inside himself. He could feel panic rise, bubbling high in his chest and head. For a second, he lost his breath. But he composed himself once more – he was quite good at that, even at times like this.
And it was only then did he realize.
"Roxanne...if I may comment-"
Her blue eyes suddenly got wide behind her glasses. "Oh God! P-please forget that! I didn't mean it like that! I-I know it sounded, um, weird." She waved her hands frantically, avoiding eye-contact with him. "Nothing's wrong with you! Nothing! I'm sorry I made a scene of it! I-It's just a-!"
"No, really... It's...fine," Zexion said, slowly trailing off. Luckily, the panicking blond girl relaxed some, an abashed expression on her face. "You don't have to apologize. I told you that."
"Y-yeah...you did..." In the silence, Zexion decided that he'd best get to work on Selphie's list, otherwise he might not get off shift as early as he thought. Before he could act, Roxanne asked, "Hey, Zexion? What were you about to say? You wanted to, uh, 'comment' on something?"
"Oh, that..." He ran a hand through his hair as he elaborated, "I was merely going to remark on your behavior."
"My behavior?"
"Yes, I can't help but notice that you've seem to undergo a variation yourself. That is to say," he looked at her intently, "just now, you spoke to me without a hint of hesitation. You seemed...confident. You made eye-contact with me, didn't stutter, and," he brushed his arm lightly, "even touched me. Past experiences lead me to conclude that a 'same you' would never had done any of that."
Roxanne blinked, a confused expression on her countenance, but it soon changed to something more solemn. "O-oh really." It wasn't a question. She knew what he was talking about, but just didn't want to admit it to herself.
Like I am, Zexion briefly thought. He pulled out his notepad and flipped through the pages to review Selphie's list. "Agreed. But please, for the record, there is nothing on my mind. Now if you'll excuse me," he turned around, "I should be getting started on my chores."
"Ah, Zexion! Don't...don't lie, please!"
"...Excuse me?"
"I'm sorry, but...I don't think that the 'old Zexion,'" she began, "would have noticed me change. He wouldn't have."
The slate-haired teen narrowed his eyes. "What evidence could you possibly have to back up that conclusion?"
"That's easy." Her voice was wavering, but she didn't stop advancing. "But I think there's...someone else who you should be talking to this about."
"I don't have anyone," Zexion stated firmly, turning to her slowly.
"You haven't talked to Demyx lately? I'm sure he notices."
What in the name of knowledge was wrong with Roxanne today? Did Demyx's whole stupid family have to be so worried and prying and nice and frickin' all up in his stupid business? And anyway, Demyx wouldn't notice anything because there was nothing to notice! Zexion just had to work harder at hiding it. Maybe writing just wasn't the answer. Maybe he'd become a balloon-headed irrational teenager like all the rest of them – because right at that moment, he just really wanted to punch something.
"And why would he be endowed with this ability?" the teen mocked, crossing his arms. He tried to tone down his anger in order not to intimidate the blond-haired girl. He required a real, satisfactory answer from her.
Roxanne shifted her weight on her feet and then, her voice lower, replied simply, "Because you two are friends. You know what he's like."
Light-blue eyes blinked in surprise. He and Demyx...friends? Really, what a ridiculous notion, and he was about to tell Roxanne as much when he remembered words spoken to him on a certain swimmer's porch one windy day. "Look, Zexy, you may not think much of our time together, but I consider you a friend. And when I see my friends hurt, I want to know what's happening to them."
Yes...perhaps he did know Demyx. At the very least, he knew more about that idiot than he did three months ago. And it was fact that Demyx was the type of person to stay by someone he cared about and try to help them.
That was just fact.
Roxanne added hastily, "Of course, w-we could be friends, too, if you wanted. I know I'm very awkward and I annoy you a lot and Demyx is already very close to you..."
Annoying...
She shuffled slightly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Still, my cousin likes you a lot. And I get to talk to you like this, so I just...I-I want to help you when he's not around."
So annoying...
"Look," Zexion said so suddenly and sharply that it almost came out as a command. Roxanne jumped and locked eyes with him. "I'm not..." He took a deep breath, trying to center himself. "Such blatant shows of affection and...and sincerity..." The teen was fairly sure his expression was a bit miserable. "Those kinds of things I'm not accustomed to, Roxanne."
"Why not?" But as soon as the words left her lips, she slapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks growing red. "O-Oh God, I did it again!"
"No, don't be ashamed with your questions," Zexion murmured. "It displays your interest in knowing the facts, is all." He looked idly around at people shopping all around them. "Now if you'll-"
"Excuse me, do you work here?" A woman with two little girls had suddenly come up next to the two teenagers. She was looking at Roxanne imploringly.
"Ah, y-yes, ma'am! H-How can I help you?"
"I was wondering if you had any more of this particular brand of shampoo...?"
"Oh, um, well," she gestured down the store, "I'll take you down the aisle and help you from there. Er, right this way..." She gave Zexion a quick glance before disappearing amongst the crowd of customers, leaving the slate-haired teen to his thoughts.
And they weren't any better than the ones before. Even worse, that stupid ache in his chest had come back.
He really hated his life right now.
Later on in the day, a boy Zexion never met came up to him asking for Roxanne. At the time, the teen had been on his way to the medical section to start his duties in assisting Vexen.
"Just some business here and then it's over," he mumbled to himself wearily. He didn't know were his strength went today, but he suspected all the things that Roxanne said to him earlier had something to do with it. As he checked off the last few things off of Selphie's list, there was a tap on his shoulder, making his body suddenly heat up. He turned, but found he wasn't staring into aquamarine eyes, but light-brown ones, which were widened a bit in surprise.
"Whoa, did a spook you?" the boy asked, cocking his head. "Didn't mean anything by it." He held up his hands innocently.
Zexion let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding. Soon after, he mentally reprimanded himself for daring to think for an instant that he'd been about to face Demyx. He had to remember how his stress levels tended to heighten around the blond.
"Can I assist you with something?" the teen asked with his usual bland vigor.
A light scowl appeared on the boy's face. "What, are you sayin' you don't recognize me?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Really, it's like people thought Zexion had nothing better to do other than memorize their names and faces. He'd have studied their damn – oh, what was it called? - Facebook if he wanted that!
Zexion observed the boy's face just a second longer until it seemed vaguely familiar to him. "No, my apologies, I can't recall you," he mumbled finally.
The boy waved a hand dismissively. "That's fine. You're always spacing out in a textbook anyway. I sit with you at breakfast sometimes with Roxanne, Olette and the others."
He ate breakfast with other people? Oh wait, that's right, Demyx had started hanging more with that Axle girl so he kept dragging Zexion over to a table with her and her friends. The teen usually chose to ignore all of them by studying...and sneaking peeks of the swimmer over his book. If asked, Zexion could tell you just what Demyx liked to eat for breakfast and how he absolutely hated orange juice with added sugar, or how with his pancakes the blonde preferred-
"Oh yes, I remember now," Zexion replied, if anything to shut up his brain. Which was difficult when you were Zexion. It was like trying to make apples fall up. Luckily, his memory finally began to serve him and he said, "You're Hayner. You're...going out with Roxanne, right?"
"Yup, it'll be two weeks on Monday," Hayner proclaimed happily. "So, Zexion, right? Think you can help me find her?"
"What, a savior to save your soul?" mocked the teen.
Hayner chuckled, albeit it seemed forced. "Yeah, she told me you were funny. I'm talking about Roxanne. She works here, right?"
"I sure hope so, otherwise you came all the way and had this meaningful conversation for naught." Zexion sighed and brushed his long hair momentarily away from his eyes. "Let's see, if I'm right, she should be filling in for some of my work. She's probably out at the greenhouse helping Marluxia water the plants."
"Great! Thanks, dude!" exclaimed Hayner before he went off toward the greenhouse near the back of the store.
Zexion huffed. The things teenagers called another nowadays...
As the teen was getting back to the pharmacy, he suddenly heard a commotion behind the medication aisle. And there were voices – female voices. One that Zexion suddenly identified to be Roxanne's. What is she doing here? How troublesome, now he'd have to tell her that her boyfriend was looking for her. It would have been more convenient for Hayner to-
"Axle, please, you have to st-stop doing this."
"I'm not going to. I can't. I...I just..."
Zexion peeked his head around the corner, seeing Axle pinning Roxanne to a wall. The blonde was holding onto Axle's arms tightly, her head down. The slate-haired teen debated whether or not he should interrupt them when they began talking again.
"Look, you've told me what it's like with him," Axle began, a hand breaking from the wall to run through blond hair. "And I know you don't like him that way. So why are you deciding to stay with him?"
Roxanne paused a moment before answering. "You...you already know why. He likes me. That's enough," she murmured.
Axle cupped the blonde's face, gently forcing her to look up at her. Zexion couldn't stop himself from checking to see if any customers were going to walking by. He looked back when Axle said, "I like you, too. So why isn't that enough? Do I really have to be a boy for you to want to be with me?"
You have to be shitting Zexion. Closet lesbian talk? REALLY?
They talk as if they've had this conversation before, the teen noted, watching an argument that sounded rehearsed it'd been recited so much.
"I...I don't..." Roxanne's words were getting choked up. "I don't know what I want. I just... Axle, I don't want to hurt anybody. I can't take that responsibility. It kills me that...that I'm hurting you." Zexion saw her tighten her hold on Axle's arms. "I don't want to. But please, please understand. You're asking me to be the person that people having been criticizing and...and ridiculing for years!"
If Zexion had been Demyx, he might of wished for popcorn at that moment. But that was scientifically impossible not to mention just plain disturbing, so the teen opted to just keep listening. He knew what Roxanne was talking about though. If he remembered correctly, a rumor had spread about her being a lesbian. Not that sexual preference was an important matter for Zexion, but he did recall her being the punchline to a lot of homosexual jokes.
So the rumors were fact.
That's it, then. The change in Roxanne. The resistance in her that she saw in him: she wanted to be with Axle but couldn't.
She's just making herself suffer, Zexion found himself thinking. Then he frowned when he realized just how peculiar that thought had been. Would he have thought something like that before? Would he have cared to even comment?
"I love you, Roxanne," Axle said, her head dipping lower. Zexion saw her lips brush against Roxanne's neck.
The blond flushed, shaking her head. "No."
"I love you." A kiss on her cheek.
Roxanne wavered, not speaking. A tear ran down her cheek. Zexion was reasoning with himself that he should just walk away and erase it all from his mind when the blonde murmured, "I know. I know. Axle...I..." A sob escaped her throat. Her hands suddenly held both sides of Axle's face. "I love you, too. I love you...the same way. That way. B-but... But Hayner..."
An unsure smile was on Axle's face. "That...that's fine, Roxy," she said in a consoling way. "You don't have to say it all. This...this is more than enough for now. I won't..." She took a breath, bringing a hand up to meet Roxanne's. "I won't make you into a cheater."
Roxanne smiled too, but her lips kept quivering for it to last long. "Thank...you, Axle." Her voice was so soft her gratitude may as well have been inaudible.
Zexion blinked once, twice, about four more times before walking away.
Hiding from yourself. But admitting it, and trying to uncover yourself. Zexion wondered how relieved Roxanne was. But somewhere in his head...the teen just tried to imagine saying to someone you loved them.
He couldn't. How could he? Fear momentarily flickered in his chest. Why am I scared?
If you asked Zexion what he learned from Vexen about pharmacy procedures, he probably wouldn't be able to tell you anything. He was too busy examining and reexamining the events as of late. The things he'd been writing into his notebooks, the words Roxanne said to him, the words she said to Axle and Zexion was scared of the latter especially.
He couldn't call it jealousy. No, it was bigger than that. Now he couldn't look at Roxanne the same way because she was vastly different from him, no matter what she may think. She felt things, things that some people couldn't even experience, much less things that Zexion couldn't even begin to fathom. She was just too different and it was scary.
Zexion was scared – of the emotions she was experiencing and he'd never experience.
Of the words she confessed and he never even allowed himself to admit.
And love was such a curious notion in the first place. The way children, teenagers, even adults just tossed the word around. They murmured it as if it were nothing. Probably because it really wasn't anything special.
"Zexion, you love your family, don't you?"
Please stop, the teen thought pitifully. Stop looking into me...!
"You loved your mother a lot, and that's why it hurts."
"Hurts? Something is supposed to be hurt?"
"What's supposed to hurt!" Zexion shouted, his hands balling into fists as he slammed them down on his desk.
From where he was sitting cross-legged on the floor, Demyx jumped, staring up at Zexion in surprise. "Zexy, are you okay? What're you thinking of?" he asked, slowly discarding his binder and copy of The Scarlet Letter to the floor.
Oh, the book. English. Tutoring. It all immediately pieced together in the slate-haired teen's mind. Demyx had come over to work on an essay they were to complete for the novel. He had prompted Demyx to brainstorm the themes in it.
"How 'bout love? There's the whole jealousy thing with Chillingworth, and Hester just wants to be together with Dimmesdale."
After that, Zexion began to zone out. His thoughts had strayed and he no longer heard Demyx talking. Memories had come back to him, from when he and Fuu had been sent to therapy, and he got angry. He could still feel the burning sensations in his chest as they faded.
The teen focused at Demyx, who was frowning with uncharacteristic seriousness. "I wasn't thinking," he said evasively, and none too subtle at that.
"Well, that's a first for Zexy..." Demyx's frown deepened and his lips might have even made a pout that was supposed to be a scowl. He got up and sat on the bed, which was right next to the slate-haired teen's desk. A warm tan hand squeezed Zexion's shoulder. "And for the record, people don't randomly shout out things like that when they are thinking of nothing." He tapped Zexion's forehead in the last few words.
"Stop that," the teen growled, slapping the hand away. "Come on, Demyx Watera, I thought we were trying to work on your essay." He leered pointedly at the blank paper on the floor. "You don't even have a thesis yet!"
Demyx sighed lightly, literally rolling onto the floor. "Yeah, yeah, just ignore the blond guy. He doesn't have the depth to understand anybody!" he declared melodramatically. He hugged his copy of The Scarlet Letter to his chest. "How sad I am. Zexy doesn't even trust me!"
Now it was Zexion's turn to sigh. And roll his eyes. "Demyx, your behavi-"
"Is this how you felt all that time, Hester? Being neglected for so long because your lover ignored you and didn't appreciate the fact that you were always there for him and always loved him!"
Heat rushed to Zexion's face. "Sh-shut up! Don't compare us to a husband and wife!"
Demyx stopped and rolled onto his back, still hugging his book when he looked up at Zexion. "So you'll tell me what you were thinking about?" he asked sweetly, feigning innocence.
The expression should've been one that revolted the teen, or at least annoyed the crap out of him, but instead it was...a bit...cute.
Excuse Zexion while he shot a certain part of his brain.
"Look, if I tell you, will you stop saying such queer things – and I mean that in several definitions."
That perked the blonde up. He jolted back onto the bed and replaced his book with Zexion's pillow. "Yes, I promise!" he exclaimed, staring intently at the teen with his wide aqua eyes.
Zexion frowned, holding up a hand. "It's really not so crucial and life-altering. Don't make it seem like I'm telling a big secret." Except, well, it sort of was. No one knew about what Zexion was going to say except his family. It was the first time he was revealing something to a jock, an outsider, to anyone.
And like always, it was like Demyx could register his thoughts without even having to hear them out loud. He offered a warm smile, shrugging. "Anything Zexy says about himself is a big secret. No one else knows because you never say anything about yourself," he pointed out matter-of-factly. "So I'm a bit excited."
"Well aren't you going to find yourself disappointed," smirked the teen. He laid back on his chair and looked distantly off at the wall. "I wasn't thinking of anything important. I just started remembering a time about three years ago. I...used to see a therapist. It's really nothing special."
Zexion had no idea why he revealed that. Now Demyx was going to bother the hell out of him with that information, probably wanting more. Or he might even tell it to his cousin and then he'd be interrogated at work. He should've just lie-
"I hear they suck."
A light-blue stare suddenly broke away from the colorless wall to gaze into pools of aqua. "What?"
"The therapists," Demyx reminded as casually as if they were talking about the weather. "I don't know about adults, but I hear teenagers seriously hate therapists. Knew a guy once in middle school who had one and said it was a nightmare. Everywhere it was just white that they tried to cover up with stupid photographs and certificates. He said he never felt safe there because it was like...like his mind was being forced open."
Zexion stared, speechless.
Demyx seemed to take that as a bad sign. "Aaaaah...but of course, yours could've been cool. I mean I don't know and all." He cleared his throat. "Uh, if it-"
"It was exactly like that," the slate-haired teen murmured, his voice suddenly hoarse. "Every time felt like that. I...hated it."
There was a weird pause afterward that neither Zexion or Demyx knew how to break. They just sat there, Demyx staring at him and the teen's eyes suddenly finding a fascination with the swimmer's hands, which were still holding onto his pillow. But the hands suddenly moved, and one reach out to find leverage as that body slowly moved toward him. Zexion's head scrambled to think of something to talk about, anything to halt that movement, to stop his heart from beating so fast...
"You don't have to-"
The binder that Demyx's hand had found toppled to the ground, flipping over the notebooks on top of it and sending the swimmer crashing downward. Papers flew out and Zexion swirled his chair around to investigate what happened.
"Demy-" But Zexion stopped right there, the rest of his sentence replaced with a yelp as the blonde landed on his lap. Well, his head did. And his face was sort of...in an awkward place. It only took the teen a split-second to react by shoving Demyx away. "G-get off me, Demyx Watera!"
"Ah, sorry, sorry!" the blonde immediately began to apologize profusely, pink filling his cheeks. "I didn't mean to land there! I swear, I... Zexy, are you okay?"
At the same time the swimmer had been talking, Zexion had moved his chair far away, hugging his knees to his chest and avoiding all eye-contact with Demyx. Most of all, he had swept his hair in front of his face to hide just how red it was.
Demyx gave an awkward laugh. "Ah, we can just go straight to forgetting about this. Did I hurt you?" he asked, tone a touch more concerned. When Zexion didn't answer, he came over and crouched down to peer into that hidden face. A devious grin was on his face, which was never a good omen when you were with Demyx.
"Then," he began slyly, sliding a large hand up Zexion's leg, "could it be that little Zexy got excited? Just from that? Wow, you're so sensiti-!"
"Shut up!" the teen exclaimed, slapping the hand away. In his defense, he really hadn't gotten aroused. But if kept thinking about it – kept thinking that the only thing at had separated Demyx from his skin, that his breath was hot, or was that now how it felt there? Zexion put down his legs, glaring down at the blonde below him. "I'm not anything! I just...don't like it when you touch me, much less there," he said crossly.
Demyx looked surprised, then his expression quickly turned embarrassed. "Sorry. But you know I'm just joking." Then just like that, the swimmer was back to his upbeat self. "Zexy takes things so seriously. Even though he knows that if he was so sensitive, I could help him out with it."
A chill ran down Zexion's spine, as if someone's finger had traced down his back. He looked pointedly over at the mess on the floor to try to distract himself from thinking about Demyx's words. "And now you've gone and made my papers disorganized."
"Lemme help you!" insisted the swimmer as Zexion got up to begin picking them up. As the teen was filing papers back into his binder, he heard Demyx mumbling something. He chose to ignore it until the blonde asked in astonishment, "Zexy, I didn't know you wrote!"
"What are you on about now?"
"This! What's this you've been hiding from the world?" Demyx was holding onto one of Zexion's notebooks and the teen wasn't too upset until he realized which notebook it was. The blonde was flipping through the pages now, eyes glinting in interest. "Wow, you've written a whole bunch. Is that what all these-?"
"Demyx, please give that to me."
"Huh? Are they like a whole bunch of love letters?"
Zexion reached out and snatched the notebook away. "No, they're not. You don't know anything!" He shook the notebook in Demyx's face. "Don't touch this ever again! Surely someone with even your brain capacity can understand that!" He was shouting, and he didn't know why. He should be calm, should be brushing it off...
Just like Demyx was doing, even though hurt was clearly etched on his face. "Why are you so upset? Is it because I found something that just maybe proves you have a soul after all?" he asked bitterly. "Are you mad because someone you...hate saw into you a little bit?"
As Demyx said 'hate,' his voice got a little bit softer. Zexion pretended not to notice, mentally shooting himself for have the immediate thought of...
"I never said I hated you, Demyx Watera," the slate-haired teen said, glad that his voice once more sounded composed.
That caused the blonde to snort. "I should be jumping for joy, but somehow I don't feel like it..." He let out a deep breath slowly, turning to Zexion. "So does that mean...we're friends after all?"
Zexion for once didn't know how to answer. He and Demyx...friends? Could it really happen? Could Zexion do it? "...I never..." He frowned, hugging his notebook to him and waiting – waiting for the stupid swimmer to finish his thoughts like he always could.
He wasn't disappointed. "Lexy is your friend, you know. But you wouldn't know it," Demyx began, lightly shoving the shorter teen, "because you're so hell-bent on not having one. And my cousin has been telling me she feels good around you, and that you're actually being a little friendly to her."
Zexion made the mental note to chew Roxanne out later, but then decided against it.
"And look, now you've got the amazing me!" finished the blonde with a wink. "We'll take care of you. It's what friends do."
"Is that it? That's all friends do?"
"Yeah. Looking out for each other, cheering one up when they're down, hanging out, being yourself... There's a lot of – how would you say it, Zexy? - benefits to friends."
Zexion picked at the sprial wiring of his notebook. "I suppose it is...admissible."
Demyx laughed. "Hey, can you de-SAT-ify your words?"
The teen swept some hair out of his face – he hadn't worn the clips today – and restated, "I'll consider."
That caused Demyx to cross his arms, pouting. "Zexy, you must be the first teenager pre-Facebook to pend a friendship request." He chuckled at his won joke, and the slate-haired teen couldn't help but smile just the tiniest bit as well. A finger tapped against his notebook suddenly. "But you know, that really is good stuff there. I like you, Zexy, but I have a feeling I'd like you more once I knew what kinds of things went on inside your heart."
"My heart? You'll find nothing there but atrium and-"
"Whoa, we're not talking rocket science, Professor Anderson," Demyx interrupted. "I'm talking about your heart heart. Like your feelings, your emotions...your thoughts when you don't let your mind control them." He prodded the teen's temple for emphasis.
Zexion shook his head. "Demyx, one cannot think without a mind. Really, are you one of those individuals that believes emotion stems from the heart? How absurd."
"That's not what it says in your notebook there," the swimmer pointed out, gesturing to the black spiral. "And...if you still need convincing, I can show you a thing or two."
"And what is this epic demonstration, Professor Watera?" mocked the teen.
"I'll show you one day. One day," Demyx promised insistently, seemingly more to himself than to Zexion. He then began gathering papers again. "C'mon, let's clear up the rest of this. It's getting time for me to go. Ma will ground me until the next Ice Age if I don't help out with dinner today."
"Just put those in the binder. I'll organize them later. I'm going to the bathroom." He opened a random drawer from his desk and quickly stuffed his notebook into it.
On his way out of the bathroom, he met Auron, who seemed to have just arrived as he was still in his uniform. "Hey, Zexion, what's with the ruckus upstairs? I heard quite a bit of shouting. Is anything wrong?"
Zexion huffed, rolling his eyes. "It's nothing, Uncle. That ruckus is because of Demyx. He's getting to be so...aggravating. He keeps making all these inquiries pertaining to myself. I mean, he's always done it, but it's getting worse as of late." He sighed wearily as if for emphasis. "So why are you home so late?"
"I'm afraid I'll be later, but just tonight. I came to pick up a few things." Auron tilted his head questioningly. "What kind of things does he ask you?"
"Meaningless things. Like what's my favorite color or movie or place to be. He asks me about Fuujin sometimes. He asks me about the books I read in class and who my favorite author is. You know he informed me he actually read Charles Baudelaire?"
"That so?" Auron took a seat on one of the chairs in the living room. "He's just trying to get to know you then."
"There's no need for him to, though."
Auron shrugged his broad shoulders. "We can't help who wants to meet us. Making a bond of some sort is inevitable in any story," he said knowingly. "Similarly, we can choose to immediately ignore or sever those bonds. But we need to realize that some characters are important for our story to progress."
Zexion let out a breath. When it came to advice, his uncle always made a correlation to a story. It usually put things in perspective for the teen, but this time he found himself repelled by the words. "Life isn't a fictional story though, Uncle," he pointed out, crossing his arms.
"Oh, maybe not word-for-word," agreed Auron loosely. "However, everyone has a story, Zexion, and it's about time you let yours unfold. Starting with this Demyx. I think he could help you."
Zexion was about to comment when he heard feet thudding down the stairs. In less than a second, Demyx was next to him, his hand ruffling his hair, his other arm holding his binder and book. "Hey, sorry but I really got to go, Zexy. Can I call you after dinner?"
"Sorry, but I have a Statistics project to prepare."
"Aw, fine," groaned the blonde. "Then if it's okay – uh, with you too, Mr. Auron sir and Zexy's dad – I want you to come to a Halloween party my friend's girlfriend is having. Before you say anything, I swear it won't be anything really bad. She's a good student like you and follows the rules and all. It'll still be fun though! Lexy can't go because he'll be with... Well, you can come, right? Please say you will!"
Oh great, another party invitation. Zexion didn't know what made Demyx think he'd ever agree to it. He always refused because he couldn't stand being around so many people.
"Is it costume?" Auron suddenly asked.
"It can be, but it's not like it's required."
The policeman turned to his nephew. "Well, you should go, Zexion. You deserve a night out with your friends."
"What?" Zexion said numbly.
"Pleeeeeease, Zexy~?" lilted the swimmer, suddenly hugging him.
"Okay, okay! I'll go! Now let go of me!" But instead of doing so, Demyx seemed to hug him harder.
"Really, Zexy! You'll come? Ah, such a wonderful day this has turned out to be!" He let go and headed to the door, a huge grin on his face. "Oh, I better go then before you change your mind. See you tomorrow, Zexy!"
"Just hurry up and get out."
Demyx saluted. "Aye, sir. But before I do," he winked at the slate-haired teen. "Sen-si-tiiive~"
"GET. OUT." Zexion growled, shutting the door after the blonde, who was laughing as he went to his car.
It wasn't until the car started and drove away did Auron look at his nephew questioningly. "What did-"
"I try not to think about it," was all Zexion could reply. He rounded on his uncle, scowling. "Why did you force me into that?"
"Like I said, I believe he is good for you."
A light blush colored Zexion's face. "Th-that's just... That is..." He huffed and bounded up the stairs. "That's a completely unsatisfactory answer!" he finally finished, somewhat melodramatically as he closed the door to his room. He found that the remaining mess on the floor had been stacked back onto his desk. Well, whatever. He'd sort it out later.
His bed seemed softer and cozier than before as he flopped down on it. I must be really tired. No surprise, really. Being around Demyx always wore him out. And he's been so annoying lately. How can Uncle Auron really believe he is good for me?
A warm smile, like the soothing rays of the sun had been absorbed in it. "I like you, Zexy..."
He likes me. Zexion's heartbeat sounded heavily in his ears. He pulled his pillow to him and grumbled incoherent things in it, blushing. "Stupid me, stupid me..." He took a deep breath and then paused. His pillow held Demyx's scent. It wasn't faint, but strong, and if Zexion closed his eyes, he could almost pretend the swimmer was there.
As if. That was stupid, irrational, and served virtually no purpose. The teen wasn't so...so infatuated that he'd stoop so low as to actually fantasize.
Making me do these nonsensical things...making me doubt all I know of myself...maybe I do hate you, Demyx Watera.
"Because this is not me," groaned Zexion, and he then tossed the pillow to the other side of the room.
He'd wash it later.
Ending A/N: A lot of you hate me for the ending, huh? -gets stabbed to death-
See that blush scene with the head-in-lap? That was totally for you, shadowdolls ;D It wasn't much, but I hope you liked it, fufufufu
Man, I'm 25 minutes late =_= 25 minutes ago was 6/9, aka Zemyx day. I'M LATE! NOOOO! -falls down in despair- I wanted to be on time, but I kept adding more stuff... Like the Female!AkuRoku scene... Why did I add that? I haven't even updated that fic in two years...
ANYWAY! So I have updated! -bows- So...is it getting flawed? IT IS, ISN'T IT! ;_; It's hard to write about Zexion being all lovesick... I've been using Hiroki from the yaoi series Junjou Romantica as reference ;D Hence the title of the chapter xD Zexy seems a little like Hiro, right? Right? ...Is it just me...? ;_;
So yosh! A review? I deserve it, yes/no? Tell meh what you think! :DDD