A/N: I feel as though I can't take this story lightly anymore. Recently, I've been getting more comments about how tense and exciting the story is becoming and that it's one of the only Zemyx's they follow now OwO So I can't tread half-heartedly or say, "Eh, I'll leave it at that." I must do my utmost for all of you, who have made me feel so very special! ;w;

Thus is why it took so long to update, coupled with the fact I have a job with my aunt for the summer. Nevertheless, I would be overjoyed were you to enjoy your read of this chapter -bows deeply-

For ShadowHarts :)

Fact: Everything Changes

The day before his birthday, Fuujin picked up the box of cigarettes from the table. She plopped down on the chair next to the window, examining the box with something like interest. At first, Zexion thought she was considering taking a few from the package, but then a smirk crossed her face and she tossed it back on the table.

The two of them were left alone at the moment. Zexion still had yet to talk much with his father, and even though that suited him just fine, he also knew there were some things he had least wanted to clear up with him. Like why he decided to visit the hospital as often as he had. "So was getting hit by a car the way to go to get your attention?" Fuu had asked sardonically, mimicking what she believed her brother's thoughts were.

Only that was wrong. It wasn't that Zexion craved his father's attention, although he supposed it would be nice to have it. Right? Look at this, I still have no idea what I want, he thought, looking out the window into the sunny autumn sky. No, that was untrue as well. He did...want one thing.

He wasn't allowed nor really able to get out of his bed without a nurse helping him into a hospital wheelchair. So for hours he had to settle for the simple fact that his bangs were no longer covering his face. He never realized how much he relied on his hair to be a barrier between himself and others until both eyes were naked for the world to stare into. Suddenly, Demyx's idiotic idea that one could know another's thought by peering into their gaze seemed true. And Zexion was scared what others would see in him, mostly because he didn't know what was there.

Then something flat and circular was tossed onto his lap, slapping onto his thigh. Zexion blinked at the black object, a thin layer of dust covering it. He frowned, looking at Fuu who was standing at his bedside.

"It's a mirror," she explained tersely, nodding at it. "I figured...maybe you'd wanna know how you look?" Something of a light chuckle passed her lips. "You've had those bangs forever. And you look so different now."

Not saying anything and yet still oddly...touched at the gesture, Zexion simply stared at the mirror. He wasn't prompted for any answer though, as Fuu walked around and towards the door. She spared a glance back at him, tugging on the black skirt of her uniform - she had come to the hospital right afterschool, taking the bus on her own ("and Dad was sooo happy about it").

"Ah, so I'll see you tomorrow then?" she asked quickly.

He must've nodded and said something in the right as Fuu gave a small smile and left, closing the door behind her. A frown knit his brows together as he tried again to wrap his mind around the current relationship between himself and his sister. Whatever it was, it was certainly better than the one with his father.

Since his right arm was still in the sling and cast, he picked the mirror up with his shaky left hand. Obviously Fuu had gotten this from one of the boxes in the downstairs closet, with how dusty it was. With a blush, he realized perhaps she had noticed the sudden missing barrettes he had borrowed on more than one day. Well, he obviously wasn't going to need them now.

The mirror clicked open with the prodding of his thumb, and Zexion willed his hand to stop shaking. Finally, the mirror, and the reflection, settled. Zexion at first looked away, but then shook his head, meeting his reflection's eyes - both of them.

A thick, dark-red mark extended from just below his hairline down to his eyebrow, stitched up tightly with thread. Zexion quickly looked away from that.

His head had always been parted to the side, and the bangs that had been over his eye were cut above his brow - a neat line. It looked strange compared to the other side of the part, where his hair was still longish and uneven from growth. With a small frown, he tucked those bangs behind his ear, thinking perhaps to cut them later. He hadn't had short bangs for years, even before his mother left. Now without the hair, the too-wide eyes were back, and Zexion wasn't thrilled at the sight of them being a pair again.

Fuu opened the door again, and Zexion kept staring into the mirror, trying to get used to it. He put it down with a barely audible breath, about to ask his sister if he really looked okay. Then he stopped, lips slightly parted and eyes wide as Demyx closed the door softly.

All the breath in Zexion's lungs left him as he took in the sight of the blond, the beautiful blond in his unkempt uniform, tie undone, and... Zexion looked down, cheeks feeling hot. Oh, he had to look so stupid, so pathetic right now. Why, just why was Demyx Watera stepping into his room?

"Zexy..."

The slate-haired teen jumped when the swimmer suddenly got on the bed, warm arms encricling him as he was embraced closely. The act was so impulsive, so personal and reckless and thoughtless...so Demyx that Zexion realized how much he had missed it. How much he missed Demyx. He felt the tears well up, but he didn't dare make a sound.

"Oh man, you're fine, you're awake!" exclaimed the blond, burying his face in Zexion's neck. His voice seemed to crack the tiniest bit. "I was so scared, Zexy. I'm so happy you're awake! Zexy..."

Right arm pressed just a bit too uncomfortably against Demyx and shoulder screaming, Zexion squrimed as best as he could. "Alright, alright, Demyx Watera, please don't forget I am injured!" he rasped out, letting out a breath when he was promptly released.

"S-sorry!" said the swimmer in a hurry. "Aah, and to think I wanted to do this more manly-like, you know?" He backed off slightly, knees on either side of Zexion's thighs, though he didn't sit himself down, thank goodness.

Only when the teen took notice of the embarassed expression on that handsome face did Zexion realize that Demyx's hair wasn't styled up in the usual manner. Strands of dark gold tickled the sides of his cheeks, the rest of his locks in a spiky sort of ponytail. It was the first time Zexion had seen him in anything but that stupid hairstyle, all done up, making him even more tall than he was. A hairstyle that proved he was the typical expressive teenager that went home to a messy room and belted out music from his stereo as he sang along with all his might.

And as much as all that was truly applicable to the swimmer, it was also not all there was to him. How much had be learned about Demyx these two months? Certainly more than he ever learned about anyone. Even himself.

Noticing Zexion's bewildered stare, Demyx laughed, rubbing the back of his head. "Guess we both changed our look a bit, huh?"

"Oh," Zexion touched over his face, covering it. "Right." Slowly, he set his hand back down, but another replaced where it had touched. Demyx's finger brushed off his tear, just like that day. Zexion had forgotten he had been about to cry. Demyx was freely laughing through his tears.

"Zexy...," he said, eyes sweeping over him in sadness. Finally, he rolled off the bed, but then laid to the right of the slate-haired teen, wriggling himself in to make room. Zexion scowled and moved away. Demyx noticed and wiped his eyes dry, chuckling. "Feels like old times."

"I have no idea what you're alluding to," Zexion said, pressing his head down in the pillows.

Demyx's grin grew. "I missed how you talk," he admitted with unbridled happiness. Aquamarine eyes glistened. "I missed you so much. I...I wanted to apologize..."

A frown knitted Zexion's brows together. Still, he only gazed at the walls, hardly believing who was laying so closely to him. After all, the last time they had spoken to each other, it was more or less a final goodbye. Yet here they were in the same bed, looking so different and talking as if nothing had happened. It was strange. "What cause have you to apologize?"

"Lots of things," replied the blond simply. The sheets rustled as he shrugged. "At first, I was gonna say I'm sorry for not stopping you. I felt like it was my fault. Like...maybe if I had done that after all instead of...just chickening out..."

Not having any idea what Demyx was going on about, Zexion settled for saying, "You couldn't possibly possess the foresight to know this would happen. I didn't even think I'd go after Fuujin."

"Yeah, I kind of realized that," Demyx said honestly, voice light. He laughed softly, but his voice was lower when he spoke again. "And then...you never really did forgive me for what I did on Halloween. As I was driving you to the hospital, I kept thinking, Fuck. Shit. Zexy might die and the last thing I would've done is yell at him. He doesn't even fully know why I did that, why I did any of it from the beginning." There was a half-beat of silence and Demyx shifted closer to him, gripping the slate-haired teen's sleeve tightly. "So really, I'm apologizing for being selfish. I wanted you to...live for my own selfish reasons. I'm sorry."

No. No, he shouldn't have to say that. Wrong. This was wrong. All of it set Zexion on edge and he uncomfortably looked away from the wall and towards the window. Stop, he thought. Please just stop. If you have to be the one to apologize, then how wrong are the things I have done?

"Zexy?"

The cut on his forehead seemed to hurt more.

"Zexy, are you alright?"

"You don't need to say all that," he finally said, taking a deep breath. When he let it out, he felt a bit more relaxed, although his heart was pounding hard in his chest. "Really, you shouldn't have worried so much."

The blond sat up, trying to catch Zexion's gaze but failing. "Do you remember anything that happened?" he asked curiously.

Now that Demyx was sitting up, the slate-haired teen quickly snapped his eyes away from the window. "To be honest, I wanted to know the same thing. I blacked out when I got hit," Zexion said simply, even though the memory made his skin prickle with gooseflesh. "Fuujin said whoever was driving kept going, but that's about the extent of my knowledge. Although...you just said you were the one to bring me here?"

Demyx nodded, offering a sad smile. "Yeah. I was going back after you, y'see, and saw you get hit. God, wish I hadn't..." His eyes closed, brow furrowed as if he were trying to block out the memory right then. Before either of them could get too uncomfortable from the recollection, the swimmer hastily went on. "So then I got your sister's friends to help me get you to my car. I know, I know, I should've called the ambulance, but I couldn't wait for that. When I got here, my dad had a stretcher waiting for you. Then the rest was just getting you well again. I tried to visit before this, but..."

Numbness made Zexion's expression feel dead and frozen. He was listening to the story, but it felt like something that happened to another person. Who got hit by a car twice? He'd been right to fear crossing the street. How had he even forgotten his fear when Fuu ran in the middle of a busy street? His fingers slowly curled around the sheets.

"Is it...frightening to see that someone is going away from you?" the teen asked, a panicked look on his face. Gradually, he worked up the courage to face Demyx, hoping that he wasn't speaking gibberish or seeming deranged.

He should've remembered how accepting Demyx was. The answer he got started with an incredulous grin. "Yeah," he said with a nod. "It's terrifying. How do you think I felt when you walked away from me? Or when I saw you get hit? The idea of someone you care about leaving is always going to be scary."

"So would it be an appropriate response to fervently protest the leaving of said someone?"

It didn't take long for Demyx to consider this. Thoughtfully, he said, "I'm not sure if appropriate is the right word. Really, it's impulse. Maybe that someone had a good reason for leaving. But it's always going to hurt. You'll always wish they wouldn't go."

Slowly, Zexion nodded. He was beginning to understand, at least a little. "And that's what you thought about me." It wasn't a question.

He managed to catch Demyx biting his lip, embarrassment on his face. "I don't want to think about living without being with you. Not anymore," came the confession, oceanic eyes peering at him with unbridled emotion. Was that affection? Was it...love?

Zexion's lip felt like it was going to tremble, so he took a deep breath, ignoring the fact his vision was blurry again. He swallowed down a gulp, and his cheeks felt too hot from a stinging blush. Why did Demyx say these things? Even then too, hadn't he blurted out, "You mean everything to me"? Surely even Demyx knew that...such words were only spoken to someone who was loved. Of course, this was only an inference - no one spoke to him like the blond did. And I hope he doesn't speak to anyone else like this.

So it was true then. Even after being hurt so badly on Halloween, he still loved Demyx. Surprise and something like frustration bubbled in his stomach.

At first, Zexion denied his feelings because he shouldn't be able to experience something like love. Not that he was emotionless; it was more like...no one should be able to attract him. No one attracted him before. What would love offer him, anyway? Had he not survived perfectly fine without it so far?

But as the weeks went on, the center of denial turned to I'm not fit for him. Zexion accepted his feelings but...sincerely did not expect them to be returned. In fact, he expected them to be hotly rejected should Demyx ever become aware of them. Someone like Zexion never ended up with someone like Demyx. A bookworm sociopath and a chipper jock never mixed.

And for what? For Zexion being who he was, for thinking differently from others.

Light-blue eyes traversed over to where the blond sat patiently. He seemed a bit unsure now, but was continuing to give Zexion a rather fond look. Ah, his stomach was turning over uneasily. Why Demyx insisted in giving him such attention was beyond him.

"May...may I tell you something?" the slate-haired teen inquired softly. Luckily, the room was empty and quiet enough that he could still be heard.

"Duh, of course!"

Zexion gave him a critical look. "It's...it's very personal. I've never told anyone else about it," he insisted, insecurity clear in his tone. "Not even Lexaeus. So...you'd be the first."

Now Demyx's eager expression softened some. "I won't judge you," he promised, making himself comfortable on the bed. Really, he should be getting off in case a nurse or - perish the thought - one of their fathers came through the door, yet there wasn't a single concern on the blond's face. To him, it seemed as though there were only the two of them, and they had forever to talk.

So odd how everything seemed normal, yet it most certainly was not so.

When he was given a rather expectant expression, Zexion cleared his throat. "Th-that is, you'd be the only person other than my old therapist to know."

Demyx blinked in surprise. "Huh," he said, neither stopping Zexion or prompting him further. "Well, if you're looking for advice here, I don't know how much help I can be. But I will listen to you, okay? I will listen to everything you have to say."

Zexion smiled. It was a very small one, and it was tinged with fear, but it was there. Suddenly Demyx was looking beyond him, eyes wide. Quickly, he got off the bed, clearing his throat. The slate-haired teen turned to see what had made him jump up - oh, had one of their fathers come after all...?

Neither parent appeared through the doorway. Instead, it was the same nurse that had been by his side when he first woke up. Her light-brown, nearly blond, hair was slightly more unkempt than when he first saw her, but she still had that gentle presence about her. Slowly, she shifted her gaze from both boys and heat filled Zexion's cheeks. Oh dear knowledge. He could only imagine what must be going through her mind - two teenaged boys...being so close together on a single bed... Surely that wasn't normal.

Then she smiled, no judgment whatsoever in her expression. "Excuse me. Zexion Anderson, am I correct?" When the slate-haired nodded numbly, she approached, a small bag in her hand. "Hi, I'm Ashe, short for Ashelia." She extended her free hand, looking at the teen expectantly.

"Good afternoon?" he said, taking her hand. Oh, he hadn't meant for that to sound like a question. "Are you a nurse?"

"Hmm?" Ashe looked surprised. "Oh, no, I'm not. Though I suppose the coat makes it seem like it. I'm sorry, I just like wearing it. In actuality, I'm your therapist."

Zexion looked over at Demyx, who was mirroring his shock. Hadn't they just been talking about his old therapist? Oh boy. It was going to happen all over again. And Demyx would be here to witness every discomfort.

"I..."

"My apologies for walking in on you when you barely woke up. I actually wasn't supposed to be here until you were making good recovery. Although after reading your file, I couldn't resist a visit." She made a small bow then, something Zexion had never seen anyone do before. "Please forgive me for that."

"That's fine," he said quickly, uncomfortable. She seemed so confident and was brimming with self-assurance that it was odd to see her resign to such formalities. "But, um... File?"

Ashe's light eyes glanced over at Demyx. The blond jumped, embarrassed to suddenly be in the spotlight. But even with that cue to leave, Demyx went over to Zexion, looking at him unsurely. Without even thinking, the slate-haired teen leapt at the chance to not be left alone and grabbed the swimmer's sleeve. He stared only at Ashe though, not wanting to see Demyx's reaction.

"May he stay? He's my friend and this isn't an official session or anything of the sort, correct?"

Ashe shifted from one foot to the other, still looking like she'd rather have Demyx leave. But after a few seconds of consideration, she nodded. "Alright. Really, I just wanted to stop by and see if we could introduce ourselves." She looked at Demyx and offered a small smile. "Ashelia."

"Demyx Watera," the blond said easily, reaching over the bed to shake her hand.

Recognition gleamed in Ashe's eyes. "Ah, your father is the doctor?"

"Yeah," said Demyx proudly. He hadn't ripped himself away from Zexion's grip yet, and in turn the teen hadn't let his hand fall away either.

"I hope you don't mind," Ashe began, "because it seems as though me being around is news to you. Has your father or uncle not informed you?"

Why should they? He hoped Auron would tell him if he knew. But as for his father... "I haven't spoken to my father since coming here. Well, I have... But it was just a few sentences." If she was going to be his therapist, she might as well know how little he communicated with his parent. And why not? She'd just spout some generic nonsense as advice.

Rather than the fake concern he expected, Ashe only nodded, as if she understood. "That's fine. So long as you know I'm here now." She walked over and sat on the chair near the window, placing her bag on the floor right at her feet. Her movements were graceful and quick at the same time. Somehow, Zexion was already becoming curious about her. She didn't seem like a therapist. Honestly, she had hardly seemed like a nurse back when he thought her to be one.

"I just received some background information on you from your previous therapist." She glanced up at him, her eyes calm but serious. It was a strangely pretty look. "You'll tell me if anything I say makes either of you uncomfortable, right?"

"I'm just here because Zexy wants me," Demyx declared, holding his hands up innocently.

Yes, I do. "It doesn't matter to me."

Ashe nodded and began talking, really just going over what she had learned from his background.

Actually, yes. It mattered. It mattered big time. This was the last thing Zexion wanted. He thought when his father pulled him and Fuu out of therapy the first time, it would all be over. Finally, he could stop talking about the past, talking about the feelings in him that just made him feel heavy and tainted. He didn't want to come back to them. Perhaps it had been unwise to let Demyx stay here...

"Your parents are divorced and you stay with your father... If I may ask, do you still keep in contact with your mother?"

Zexion tensed immediately, gripping Demyx sleeve tighter, so tight that he felt his nails dig into his palm. "I thought this wasn't a real session," he said in a panic, throat dry.

"It's not," Ashe agreed with a small nod. And just like that, she moved on. Zexion expected her to at least take a note of his reaction in some notebook or for her to look at him funny, but neither happened. Instead, she asked with a small laugh, "How did you two meet?"

"Eh?" Demyx looked around as if she meant someone else.

Zexion couldn't blame him. He felt just as confused. Still, he thought there couldn't be any harm in answering... "Um, I became his tutor at the beginning of the school year. But that's really...all there is."

A slender brow was raised as Ashe stared at him. "You just called him your friend."

All of a sudden he realized he was still holding on to Demyx's sleeve. Quickly, he took his hand back as if the blond were poison, and widened his eyes. "I didn't." Which was a really pathetic thing to say because the slate-haired teen knew full and well he had.

Ashe didn't press the issue, but stood up, glancing at her watch. "We'll leave it at that. I'll talk it over with your father, but how does next week sound for a starting session?"

Zexion nodded wordlessly and Ashe smiled, gathering her bag. "Good then. You two have a good day. Oh, and happy early birthday, Zexion." She waved and then closed the door behind her as she left.

Really, he should've seen it coming when Demyx immediately rounded on him.

Within seconds, the blond was back on the bed, except this time Zexion was staring up into oceanic eyes as Demyx got hands-and-knees above him. It was difficult for him to suppress a gasp as tan hands supported themselves on either side of his head.

"What-?"

"You did call me your friend. I heard you," the swimmer said, voice sweeter than anything Zexion knew. He was so close that the slate-haired teen could feel that low voice vibrate in his chest, could see the bobbing of Demyx's Adam's apple as he gulped. "And you held me so tightly. You...really didn't want me to leave."

"I just didn't desire to be alone. It's not an unbelievable concept," defended Zexion weakly, voice a bit higher than he meant it to be. Oh... Oh Demyx was so close that strands of golden hair brushed against his forehead. Zexion's heart was pounding much too fast. This was completely wrong, right?

Someone like me can't be with someone like him.

And Zexion was sick of being jerked around by the blond's eager, friendly personality. "Get off me, don't you have any idea of how we must look?" he said almost desperately. Why couldn't Demyx just understand?

"Don't you have any idea that I don't care?" returned the swimmer defiantly, with a sort of conviction Zexion hardly heard from him. Seeming to forget yet again about the teen's arm, he embraced Zexion, pressing his face into the small chest.

"D-Demyx Watera?" he exclaimed in shock. He twitched, trying to push him away...

"I love you," sighed the swimmer into his chest. "That was the first time you said that I was your friend. Thank you. So much. I love you, Zexy."

Zexion's heart stopped. That couldn't be right at all. It had to be something Demyx was just saying without knowing the gravity of it. Really, he wouldn't be surprised if that were the case. It didn't stop his chest from feeling tight, though. "What are you-?"

"I've loved you since summer. I don't know what it was, since I've seen you at school for years. Maybe it was just the right time to fall in love with you."

"You have n-no idea what you're saying." Sooner or later the blond would realize what was being said and he'd stop. He'd probably even regret it, tell Zexion to forget it even happened.

Except Demyx kept going. "I love you. I love you so much. Please let me be with you..."

"N-nonsense!"

A warm hand touched his cheek, caressing it gently. "I'm sorry, Zexy. It's probably horrible timing, and I wanted to make everything perfect for you, but...I just can't hold it in anymore. You make it so hard."

Perfect? For him? What was Demyx going to do? Zexion sank a little lower into the bed, breath growing heavy between his parted lips. Heat in his cheeks made tears form in his eyes. Oh no... Oh no... "Don't," he whispered in a barely audible voice. Even though he wanted it so bad. Wanted Demyx.

Beautiful aquamarine eyes were closing, that handsome face drawing nearer...

Oh no. Oh no.

I'm not meant for him. I'm all wrong. He'll only leave because he'll hate how I am.

Zexion's heart pounded and his breath mixed with Demyx's. What would it be like? Would it be like what he read in books? Would it be as simple as he thought? Oh, this must be how Pip felt whenever he was so near the beautiful Estella, always tortured by who he could never have...!

Ill-suited. But would it be bad...for just this once...for him to stop listening what his head told him?

Their lips brushed shyly, then forcefully pressed together. Zexion lost all the air in his lungs; he must've forgotten how to breathe. He stared randomly at the undone tie around Demyx's neck when they pulled away. Demyx's face was a flushed pink color as he too seemed to be avoiding the slate-haired teen's gaze.

"That was..."

"Oh..."

"Sort of...bad, yes?"

Demyx rubbed the back of his neck. "Well, it could've been better..."

Bright-blue eyes gave the blond a critical look. "Haven't you been in relationships before? I've...never been kissed but to my understanding..."

"Y-yeah, they're supposed to be better. That was my bad. I got too excited."

There was a beat of silence in which both of their faces just seemed to be getting redder. Finally, Zexion lightly touched his tingling lips, feeling incredibly awkward. "You, um...could've warned me about your tongue..."

Demyx buried himself into Zexion's pillow and refused to move for about five straight minutes. In that time, Zexion hardly felt any of his injuries, even his aching arm. The only thing he could feel was his stinging blush, his throbbing heart. His head was filled with too many thoughts to make any of them out. Oh, and the sensation of vomiting up all his organs in a bloody mess was back again.

"D...Demyx Watera?"

Considering he was still face-planted in the pillow, the response was a muffled, "Mmph?"

"I... That is, did you not just... You said that you...loved me."

The blond turned his head, now just resting his cheek on the pillow. "I still do," he joked lightly, making a small chuckle.

"That's ridiculous," Zexion said in disbelief. He could feel his eyes were wide, staring at the swimmer and imploring him to see reason. "You couldn't possibly possess such...affections for me. That's wrong."

Slight hurt was obvious in Demyx's expression as he considered. "Why?" he asked softly. "Is it because we're both guys?"

Zexion shook your head. "I've already informed you that I don't view homosexuality as a problem," he replied honestly. And really, that had been the last thing on his mind. Even if either of them were a girl, his conflict would be the same.

Now Demyx looked fearful. He got up, tossing his legs over so that he was sitting at the edge of the bed. He was staring at Zexion head-on, strength burning in his eyes. "Oh, so it's that you don't return my feelings?"

What was he to say? Deny it? But Demyx was gazing at him so intensely, asking for nothing less than the truth, that Zexion's heart broke as he murmured, "Why are you inquiring about such a thing?"

"Because I have to know, too. I have to know that you feel the same, Zexy."

"Why?" he asked, just a shade away from begging. "Why do you have to know? Why do you need to have these feelings? I've never even felt this before." Tears were brimming his eyes, cascading down his cheeks as he shattered in front of Demyx yet again. "I've never experienced it. I hate it. The books I read make it seem so wonderful but it hurts. I'm always scared, always putting myself down, thinking of how I could never deserve you."

Another hand, so warm, brushed against his. "Stop that," said Demyx softly.

"But it's made me so pathetic! I was fine! I was perfectly fine before I fell in love with you!" cried Zexion, snatching his hand away. "I'm used to staying like this."

"Zexy, I know change scares you, but you're not alone," said the blond reassuringly, his voice soothing the ache in the slate-haired teen's chest. Not alone. Could he really take Demyx's word on that? "I'll love you no matter what. I mean, I'm still here, right? I'll be with you forever."

"The future is a variable in life, Demyx," Zexion pointed out miserably.

A light-hearted scoff left the swimmer's lips. "If you spend so much time bitching about the past and being scared of the future, what kind of present does that leave you?" he asked, crossing his arms and giving Zexion a meaningful look.

"You mean just live," the slate-haired teen concluded flatly, wiping his eyes.

Demyx shrugged. "Well yeah. Isn't that all we can do?"

"I don't know what I can do anymore," confessed Zexion, glancing down. Everything felt like it was slipping through his hands. Even though he was probably in one of the worst physical and mental pains of his life, he still hardly felt human. He brought his hand up slowly, turning it over and looking at the IV needle in him. Eventually the sound of the drip bag became one with the ticking clock on the wall in front of them.

At some point, Demyx got up, clearing his throat. "My dad's probably going to be by in a minute, but visiting hours are almost done for the day. So I'm just, um, going to head out." Even though he looked as though he wanted to avoid gazing at Zexion, those aquamarine eyes pinned him down. "I'll come by tomorrow, of course. Can't leave you here by yourself for your own birthday. I'll bring a few people over to come see you, make it a small party."

The laugh Demyx offered wasn't fake, and it made Zexion's heart swell in happiness. "Demyx," he called out before the door could be opened.

He turned. "What's up, Zexy?"

"Could...could we try again?" He made sure to steady his gaze onto the blond, not wanting him to think he was being irrational or not thinking straight. "That is, I'm referring to the kiss. You took my first one and it wasn't good. You owe me one."

Pink stained Demyx's cheeks and he let out an incredulous laugh, eyebrows raised. "R-really? You're not just saying that?" Even as he expressed his disbelief, Demyx was walking closer, lingering right beside him within seconds.

Zexion licked his lips, not knowing where exactly to place his eyes on Demyx. Just like before, his breath got heavier and his heart began to beat too fast.

This time, they didn't stop or pull away. A hand slowly threaded through his hair, and it felt like Zexion's chest was trying to meet Demyx's with each breath - his heart reaching out for the blond's. Their lips were in slow motion, moving against one another gently but forcefully at the same time. Demyx was giving him a chance to stop if he wanted, but also prompting him forward. And in the kiss, Zexion felt it. He's been trying to move me forward.

"I love you," murmured Demyx, capturing the slate-haired teen's lips fully again. Zexion smiled into the kiss.

And who knows, maybe he would move forward. If Demyx was right next to him...maybe he would.

Ending A/N: Lately I've been listening to a lot of Placebo whenever I'm writing this fanfiction. I wonder if it's apparent? I personally feel like they fit with the story, especially with songs like "Twenty Years," "Protect Me From What I Want," and "Every Me, Every You."

Truthfully, I'm wondering about the love confession-kiss scenes. I feel like it came suddenly, but at the same time, I think it was the right time to put it in. What is planned? Demyx really had been trying to wait, you know... He wanted to make it all romantic in how he'd confess to Zexion. Alas, when emotions overwhelm us... What am I even saying anymore, dear Lord... -facepalm-

Oh, and ever since I watched Valentine's Day, after the scene where Ashton Kutcher's character kisses his best friend, I thought - yes, a first Zemyx kiss would go exactly like that! -shot dead-

And finally, don't judge Ashe yet. She won't be the target of the previous discomfort Zexion has for therapists. She'll be likeable. (By the way, I feel like I offended some of you a few chapters back when Zexy and Demy were more-or-less hating on therapists. I know they're not bad. My apologies).

Reviews/critiques/questions would be nice... OTL