i write sins not tragedies
It was another one of those nights that Axel so hated. Sometimes, on a slow day or even a day off, Zexion got the wild idea to hold a small poetry reading. Axel was completely bemused as to why—the only one who liked going was Lexaeus and that was only because he was friends with Zexion, and Axel wasn't even sure he could read.
Mostly everyone fell asleep. But everyone always went partly because, well, there wasn't much else to do. Mostly they went because Zexion would do very nasty things to the ones who skipped. Axel hadn't gone once, and he'd found his bed transformed into a nest of thorns. Not sure if it was an illusion, and not willing to risk it, he'd had to sleep on the floor for a week.
He sat in the very back and stretched out in his chair, contemplating putting his hood up so he could sleep easier. Zexion always had these weird things outside and the blare of the gleaming black-and-purple sky always gave him a headache.
"This is ridiculous." Siax muttered, taking a seat next to Axel as if it was the most casual gesture in the world.
Axel swallowed, trying not to show his surprise. "You're here, aren't you?"
"I don't wish for my beserker to get turned into a lump of iron again, thanks." Siax's face was as grim as death. "Filthy little upstart."
Axel held back a grin. Isa always used to talk like that, too—melodious, slick, with big words and crisp syllables.
Siax glanced at him. "Your face is turning red, Axel."
"Shut up." Axel looked away, embarrassed. "I, er, have a fever."
"We don't get fevers anymore." Siax's tone was condescending but somehow warm. "Don't be a fool."
Zexion walked up to the front of the congregation at the moment, clearing his throat and opening a thick book. As he started to read, Siax groaned.
"Does he write this stuff?" Axel raised his eyebrows. "Or just read them?"
"How should I know?" Siax snapped. "What a waste of a day off."
"Please." Axel snorted. "You know you love working, Is—"
Siax looked over at him abruptly. "What's that?"
"Nothing." Axel could feel his face turning red again. "I—forgot myself."
Siax's lips curled into a smile that was part Nobody and part Isa. Axel felt something hurt inside of him—had he a heart, he would have thought it was that. It felt as if his chest was splitting in two with sadness.
"You were always so absent-minded," Siax chuckled, "Lea."