Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ To catch a falling star ❯ Part 4 ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4

Demyx had been standing there on the roadside for a while now, just staring at the dark green front door of the house across the street, trying to will his knees to stop trembling and the butterflies in his stomach to go away. Demyx had made his way, nervous but confident, out of his front door and just sort of stopped when he'd caught sight of Zexion's house, confidence vanishing in an instant.

 

Heck, he didn't even know if Zexiom lived with anyone and if somebody else was going to answer the front door. "Aww, shit." The words just seemed to slip out under Demyx's breath. He'd already tried to cross the road once and almost got run over for his efforts. Demyx had been to busy thinking of what the hell he was supposed to say to the guy when he answered his door.

 

Zexion.

 

Such an unusual name and Demyx never did get a last name out of Axel. "Stupid flamer - leaving me completely unprepared," He said with very little heat because, between you and me, he knew he was stalling.

 

Zexion had probably seen him standing there like an idiot for the last twenty minutes while Demyx had tried to pluck up the courage to cross the road - how stupid was that?

 

Demyx really didn't think he could do this.

 

But, he knew that Axel and Roxas would be disappointed if he came back now, tail between his legs because he couldn't muster up the courage to even try. He knew Axel's face would be downcast and sad for him, especially after all the work they'd put in that afternoon.

 

Thinking about Roxas and Axel, and the way they had been trying to encourage him and - kami forbid - actually being supportive, rather than mocking in that teasing way they shared.

 

It made Demyx feel all happy inside and brought a soft smile to his lips.

 

"Alright! I can do this - or at least, I can try." The determination in his voice wasn't reflected by his body, evidenced by the dramatic increase in that fluttery feeling in his stomach. He tried not to think about that focusing on other thing's, like Roxas giving him an awkward but much needed hug - which Roxas never does. So, Demyx at least had to try - and a good place to start would be getting across this road and up to that forbidding front door.

 

Turning his gaze left and right, searching for any oncoming vehicles, clutching the plate of cookies, wrapped in cling film tight in his hands, Demyx slowly stumbled across the road. He desperately tried to keep his balance, legs feeling like jelly as he took each step forward.

 

Way to go, Demyx! You managed to cross the road by yourself - how old are you again?

 

Ignoring the sarcastic comments he was making in his head, which sounded suspiciously like Axel, Demyx walked slowly towards the door that had dominated his thoughts for the past half an hour.

 

Demyx took the two steps leading up to the wrap-around porch a little unsteadily, not releasing his hold on the plate in his hand to hold onto one of the posts bracketing the raised step's. Before him now was, what had once felt like an ominous door at a distance, but was in fact rather ordinary looking up close - dark green stained wood, with a small letterbox in shiny brass and a small peephole in the centre. His mind had been playing tricks on him again, making it feel so much more imposing than it actually was.

 

Glancing around the doorframe for the bell, Demyx found it located on the right hand side of the door in the wooden siding of the wall. He reluctantly released his hold on the plate, which was now held precariously in one hand, as he watched his finger uncurl, tremble, and extended outwards, in what seemed like slow motion to his eyes, to press decisively down on the doorbell. He could hear the distant chime inside and felt those familiar butterflies inside him.

 

As he withdrew his hand, Demyx realized that it was the same hand that he had touched Zexion with the other day. He turned his hand over to examine it, remembering the ghost of a touch sliding across his palm, the scratch of fabric; it made his body to shiver in remembrance.

 

Demyx had never had such strong reaction to memories before, this one rippling across his skin as though he were touching Zexion's shoulder all over again. His hand clenched in response and he watched it with interest. “Hmm… weird” The words were quietly whispered to himself absently; he hoped no one had heard him quietly rambling to himself. Demyx hadn't even touched Zexion's skin and it had sent his nerves jangling with unexpected heat and a sudden urge to touch the slate haired man again.

 

He could feel tendrils of warmth slipping across his cheeks in a faint blush, Demyx had known right then that something unusual was occurring, but he still couldn't put his finger on what it was about him- Zexion - that stirred such reactions from him. He wondered idly as he waited if Axel felt this way when he touched Roxas. Ahh… bad thoughts, I really don't need or want to know that he thought desperately.

 

Demyx unfurled his hand once again and placed it back where it had started; wrapped securely around the plate he really didn't want to drop. He returned his gaze expectantly to the door. Demyx refused to risk dropping his precious cargo after all the trouble everyone had gone to too help him make them for Zexion. Today had been a lot of fun, in the end, and it had made him feel a lot better - he'd never admit it out loud but he'd been feeling really low lately.

 

Demyx waited quietly, what he thought was patiently, arms tucked in as close to his body as the plate would allow, trying to hold in the butterflies that where churning his stomach. It felt like a tornado was whipping around inside him. He began to tap his foot in a nervous rhythm against the varnished floorboards as he waited for Zexion to answer the doorbell.

 

00-00-00

 

Zexion could hear a high-pitched trilling sound that was slowly penetrating the darkness that had surrounded him moments ago. Such an annoying sound, what the hell was it? Opening one heavy eyelid, all he could see was a blur of white and black - what the…? Opening the other eye, it took him a few moments to focus and see that his cheek was pressed against the tabletop, the white and black blur? The stacks of notes for his coursework. Which he had been working on before, apparently, falling asleep.

 

He must have been more exhausted than he'd thought. Zexion looked around slowly, eyes trying to focus as he though muzzily over what woke him up. Slowly lifting and placing both hands down on the low table he pushed himself upright, looking around for the clock that was up on the wall.

 

It was only a little after eight in the evening; he couldn't have been asleep too long.

 

Abruptly, a loud piercing trill sounded from the front of the house. “What the hell is that?” Zexion's voice came out slightly rougher than normal, most likely caused by the impromptu nap he had taken, as the sound came again. His mind whirred back to life and he realized that what he had been hearing was, in fact, the disused doorbell.

 

“Who would be at the door? Nobody knows I live here.” He mumbled quietly, slowly running his fingers through sleep tangled bangs to neaten them. Zexion went to stand up from the low table and almost fell over, his legs stiff and now coursing with pins and needles as the blood flow tried to return after being stuck in the same position for to long. It had been at least two hours ago that he remembered looking at the clock.

 

Grimacing and biting on his lip quite fiercely, Zexion scowled down at the offending limbs, as he slowly used his hands to shift the numb appendages, rubbing them carefully as he winced at the pain zinging through his limbs. He stretched them out in front of him to let the blood flow more easily. He lightly alternated between rubbing and bouncing each leg to encourage further blood flow, and hopefully, return some feeling to them that wasn't pins and needles.

 

The doorbell sounded again, and he grumbled under his breath, “I'm coming, alright, people are so impatient. It's not like it could be anything important.” Wriggling his toes experimentally, to avoid further mishaps, then shifting round and slowly getting to his feet. Zexion braced himself against the sofa at his back, trying to avoid any possible falls due to the previous numbness. He stiffly walked from the living room down the corridor to the front door, feeling the little pricks of pain decrease as he went, slowly limbering up his leg muscles.

 

Ignoring the peephole entirely, Zexion grabbed onto the door handle with one hand and twisted the latch with the other, swinging the door open, only to find the one guy he couldn't seem to keep his emotions straight around, standing at the door looking slightly disgruntled, tapping his foot impatiently on his porch.

 

“Well that took a while, are you all right?”

 

He gave him a very curious look, taking Zexion in from head to toe and he willed his body not to shiver under such close scrutiny. Maybe Zexion had been mistaken in his assumption about being impatient; he looked more concerned than anything else. He shook out his bangs, giving himself some sort of cover to hide behind and looked down at his now rumpled clothes, the old, worn grey sweatshirt and faded jeans doing nothing towards a good impression.

 

Zexion missed the look Demyx sent him as his hair shifted across his pale cheek.

 

“I'm sorry; did I come at a bad time? I didn't mean to interrupt you. I just wanted to give you these.” The sudden burst of speech surprised Zexion, followed by the other man, Dem, thrusting said a plate filled with - cookies?

 

“I… what are…uhm…” Zexion tried to clear his throat as his voice still sounded slightly croaky. His mind was still slightly fuzzy around the edges, causing the lack of vocal coordination he was suddenly experiencing. “W… why are you giving them to me?” Zexion struggled to inquire.

 

It was a bit of a shock; he hadn't known what to say at first. Dem was speaking so rapidly Zexion was struggling to keep up, but also, he couldn't resist that voice. Even when in a rush it was smooth like velvet and it felt like his skin was tingling all over from just listening to him. He couldn't take this - he really couldn't.

 

It had to stop.

 

“Well… uhm… they're an apology I guess, for the other day.” Zexion felt his eyebrows draw down into a frown. Why would he be bringing these to apologize to me? Zexion thought curiously, it hadn't been his fault. It was that bratty brother of his.

 

Zexion met him, Dem, just the other day. That was all his brain seemed to want to focus on. In the end, it had all been rather confusing and, to be honest, the only thing about it Zexion wanted to remember was him. No stupid brain - SHUT UP!

 

His face must have shown his inner turmoil as - again- he found a warm hand braced against clothed shoulder. Zexion could feel the goose pimples rushing out from that location, just as he had the last time. The hand on his shoulder squeezed lightly, bringing his attention back up to that warm looking face and those beautiful sapphire eyes.

 

“Hey, you okay? You don't look so well.”

 

Zexion could see the concern in his face and he didn't want it there. Much as he hated to admit it, Zexion liked that Dem seemed to care. But that expression didn't belong on such a beautiful face. Damn it, what is it about this guy that he just couldn't seem to stop being so stupid when he was around him? Zexion fumed at himself silently, he felt like an idiot - like one of those stupid, fumbling teenagers he finally outgrown.

 

He needed to get away from Dem as soon as possible. Zexion didn't like being around people much, his few friends could attest to that, and this guy just couldn't seem to stop touching him, reaching out to him. Not to mention the fact that Zexion seemed to lose complete control of himself whenever he was around him. Zexion shrugged his shoulders purposefully to dislodge that gentle hand, attempting to rein in the emotions that had been rioting inside his head.

 

He'd been doing this for years; he would not let one person undo it all.

 

“I'm fine - what can I help you with exactly?” Zexion could hear the coolness that he was so proud of slip back into his voice, as he shoved all the emotions that he was feeling back down into the pit of his stomach, where they constantly seemed to be stirring of late.

 

Dem gave him a stumbling reply to Zexion's blunt question, “Well… we… I mean… I wanted to make you something… you know, as an apology for… my brother. He isn't too good with people, and uhm… he can be rude sometimes, but he really is a good person. So, ahh … anyways these are for you.”

 

Dem had been rubbing the back of his neck and glancing at Zexion every so often. Zexion could only assume that this was a nervous gesture. He hadn't behaved like this the other day; he had been bright, cheerful and confident, and Zexion wondered what had caused the sudden change.

 

No, don't think about it, it'll only cause problems.

 

“What kind are they?” Zexion have to admit he was a bit of a sucker for cookies, but he couldn't really afford such frivolous foods on what little money he had. So they made him more than a little curious about what kind they were. He was intrigued and the image of sitting at a table, a cup of tea in one hand and a half eaten cookie in the other had him feeling rather hungry. He was just glad his stomach didn't growl, he hadn't eaten dinner yet after all.

 

“Well, they're chocolate chip. Though Axel said he didn't even know if you liked cookies 'cause he'd never seen you eat them. Do you like them - cookies, I mean?” He looked alternately perplexed and hopeful; and Zexion couldn't seem to resist the tiny smile that tugged his lip but didn't bloom into the full thing. This guy was so forthright and sincere, expressing all his emotions so openly, if not with his expressions, then in his actions and those stunning eyes.

 

“I do like cookies. A lot of people do, you know.” So, Axel knows this guy, Dem, but what is he to Axel, who is he? Zexion couldn't help but mull the thought over, that scientific side of him looking for answers. “How do you know Axel?” This gorgeous person piqued Zexion's curiosity and he wanted to know how the puzzle fit together. Who was he? He couldn't help wanting to know more about him, it was one of few deviations Zexion had been taken on of late, ever since that day.

 

He just couldn't seem to help himself.

 

“Me an' Axel have known each other for years, we went to school together before coming here to go to HBU. Ahh… shit, sorry, I'm being really rude.”

 

Zexion was shocked by the sudden statement but didn't show it as the blond haired man stuck out his right hand whilst holding the cookies in the other, declaring quite proudly, “I'm Demyx Strife - pleased to meet cha'! We didn't get a proper introduction before, and I don't know your last name, Axel didn't mention it.”

 

Demyx looked at Zexion expectantly, assuming that he would take the proffered appendage.

 

Zexion looked down at his hand and then backup at his face and then back down again. He couldn't do this; he could feel the panic welling up in his chest, that familiar constriction he hadn't felt in months. His breath started to rasp out from his lips, the struggle for air intensifying as a panic attack tried to set in.

 

He had to calm down.

 

Zexion couldn't let Demyx touch him, he just couldn't.

 

Zexion unconsciously tucked both his hands under his arms for security and comfort, trying to will his nerves to calm down as they roiled around in the pit of his stomach. He suddenly felt nauseous and he couldn't bear for this person to see him like that.

 

Zexion didn't want to lose control again - not in front of him.

 

He looked up, and although Demyx seemed disappointed, he bobbed his head slightly in ascension and withdrew his hand, wrapping it visibly around the plate. Demyx's voice was quieter when he spoke again, subdued, and Zexion don't think he had ever felt guiltier for that.

“What's your name?” Demyx's eyes looked shadowed and as dark as night at that moment.

 

Zexion's chest tightened as that gaze strayed away from him, looking sadly at the wooden boards of the porch.

 

Zexion thought he would have given up after he had been so blatantly rude, but, although Demyx was quieter and infinitely more sombre than before, he could see the cogs in his head turning as his brow furrowed in concentration. Zexion liked that look, concentrated, focused, and thoughtful, it brought a whole new dimension to that smiling face. It was clear that Demyx was turning over the problem, puzzling over it and he hadn't left yet.

 

Zexion stuttered his response, just like he did the last time, 'Ze - Zexion, Zexion Nocturne… I… I am sorry about that.” He was being purposefully obtuse; avoiding being specific about what he was apologising for and hoping Demyx would understand what he was trying to say. The fact that Zexion was apologizing for anything did not escape his notice - but Demyx deserved that, Zexion wanted to do this for him.

 

Zexion turned his stormy gaze away, looking to the floor when he said those words, his hair falling across his cheek and concealing his face from view. He was embarrassed at his admission, but Zexion couldn't have let it go, it felt wrong to do so; he hadn't wanted Demyx to look like that, melancholy and sad. Zexion felt a light tap against his shoulder again and glanced up to find a tanned hand with long pianists finger's withdrawing from the touch, a small smile adorning perfect, soft looking lips - it made Zexion's heart skip a beat.

 

They stood there watching eachother for a few more minutes, and something stirred in the back of Zexion's mind, something Axel had told him about his friend who couldn't … what was it? Zexion usually had a perfect memory, why was this particular one being so elusive? He heard Demyx mumbling something as he stared fixedly at his stripped shirt, “I mean …cookies…”

 

Realization hit, he remembered, “Ah ha … that's it … the blond invasion!” He hadn't meant to say it out loud, but it had escaped his lips on what bordered on a happy exhale of breath. Zexion watched in quiet fascination as Demyx's eyes widened visibly and he then proceeded to flush ten different shades of red, glaring down at the floor as his foot started tapping of its own accord, eliciting a steady rhythm against the wooden boards.

 

So that's a nervous gesture, not impatience like Zexion had originally thought. Interesting.

 

He could hear him whispering quite forcibly and watched those delicate lips moving fervently, but Zexion couldn't make out the words, so he asked him, “Demyx?” Bright cerulean orbs looked up at him, locking with his own stormy grey. Zexion felt a quiver deep down in his belly at the rapt attention, and although Demyx's cheeks were shining crimson, he looked so pleased when he'd said his name that it took Zexion's breath away.

 

Kami, I really am in trouble, aren't I?

 

“Well, it wasn't my f… fault, alright! I'm not a great cook. S…so what! I can do other t…things. Plus L-Leon's the cook in the house, and Cloud's way worse than me!”

 

Zexion puzzled over those words, quirking an eyebrow at the stutter that had entered Demyx's usually smooth voice, and linked the words up with the memory of what Axel had said in passing a while ago.

 

Axel had mentioned something about a good friend of his having burnt down the kitchen when trying to cook dinner - now this may have been an exaggeration, but by the way Demyx was behaving it wasn't too far from the truth. Apparently, according to Axel, his elder brother did the exact same thing a few weeks later, resulting in them both being banned from the kitchen.

 

Zexion could feel a slight twitch of his lip, which he supposed you might associate with a smile.

 

“So, who exactly cooked these cookies, and is your kitchen still in one piece?” Zexion couldn't really believe what he had just said. Was he trying to tease him? I am, aren't I? It was surprising how good it felt as he watched Demyx stutter and stumble, looking at him with mouth agape, trying to come up with some kind of retort.

 

In the end Demyx shook his head and looked away from Zexion, he may be mistaken but Zexion was almost certain he could see the sheen of tears over those beautiful azure eyes and he realized that he'd gone too far without meaning to. It was clear that Demyx was a sensitive person, and Zexion had put his big foot in it.

 

“I t-tried really hard all morning okay, I'm just not made for c-cooking apparently, so Axel helped me o-out and Roxas, too.”

 

Zexion could feel Demyx's upset settle around him like a blanket. He hadn't meant to cause Demyx any distress, he had never been any good with people, and this just proved it. Zexion wasn't sure what to say, so he went with his instinct, rusty though it was. He reached out and grabbed the sides of the plate, aiming where he wouldn't touch skin to skin, gently tugging on the dish so Demyx would look at him again.

 

And, surprisingly, he did, focusing on Zexion's slender fingers wrapped around the sides of the plate and tentatively looking up at him. “What? You said they were for me, right? You can't keep them for yourself now.” Zexion could see that blanket shifting and falling away, a small twinkle sparkled in Demyx's eyes as he relinquished the plate into Zexion's hands.

 

“That, and the chocolate will melt if we keep them in this heat too much longer.”

 

Demyx's smile returned full force at Zexion's flippant comment and it made him surprisingly happy, the flutter in his stomach a little disturbing, but much more welcome than the twisting nausea that had followed the potential panic attack.

 

When was the last time I felt like this?

 

It had been so long Zexion couldn't really remember. Shrugging at those thoughts he decided that the cookies needed to go in the fridge, otherwise he wouldn't get to enjoy Demyx's baking as much as he should. But Zexion wasn't really sure how to say goodbye. So he did what he thought was a good idea. “I need to put these in the fridge, so if you will excuse me?”

 

“You're excused.”

 

That smile still lingered on Demyx's face as Zexion turned to grab the door with one hand as he held the plate in the other. The blond haired man looked really happy, though the comment could have been easily misinterpreted.

 

Demyx hadn't turned to leave yet and Zexion turned to face him again, raising an eyebrow at him in question. He must have understood the motion as Demyx ended up stuttering again, casting his gaze to the ground, “I… will you… I mean… would you sit and talk with me for a while longer? Please.”

 

He was rubbing at his neck again, and his empty hands were drumming a constant rhythm against his thigh with his fingers.

 

Zexion could see that Demyx was nervous, and he couldn't blame him. To be honest, he was pretty nervous himself.

 

Demyx turned pleading eyes Zexion after a few minutes had passed in awkward silence and Zexion just couldn't seem to build up any retort. He didn't know if he ever would. The words just seemed to slip out so naturally, without his permission, “Alright, I'll make some tea and we can sit on the porch as it's so hot out still, I can't be long, though. I have a lot of work to do still.”

 

A sunny smile washed over Demyx's features as he nodded enthusiastically, blond locks bouncing across his shoulders to fall down his back, to Zexion's response, “Sounds good to me, oh uhm… one thing.”

 

Zexion noticed that Demyx was eyeing his cheek speculatively, just like earlier on, having glanced back over his shoulder as he'd turned to put the cookies away.

 

“What is it?”

 

Demyx was looking at his right cheek, but why so intently?

 

“Did you fall asleep on a newspaper?” It would seem Zexion had developed a new habit, as he raised his eyebrow again.

 

“I don't know. Why do you ask?”

 

What was he going on about? It was becoming decidedly irritating. How was it he could conjure up so many emotions inside Zexion at once when he'd kept them in check for so long? He felt confusion and irritation lacing his word's when he spoke.

 

Demyx brought a thumb up to his lips, stroking his tongue across it, making Zexion swallow down a sudden wave of heat that rushed through his body as his eyes tracked the movement. The blond haired man then reached out with it, brushing slate grey hair out the way, thumb headed for Zexion's cheek, about to brush his skin. Zexion flinched backwards, eyes closing involuntarily, sudden panic chasing the heat from his system so fast it made Zexion dizzy.

 

He wavered on his feet, still holding the cookies in both hands.

 

Instead of the pressure against his cheek that Zexion had been expecting, he felt a sudden weight pressed against both his arms, causing him to blink open his eyes again. Demyx had tried to steady Zexion on his feet. Zexion felt the colour drain from his face as Demyx attempted to touch his skin.

 

Zexion forcibly stopped himself from listing to the side as Demyx held onto his arms. He eyed Zexion curiously, but the nerves wouldn't let him go until Demyx released him. So, Zexion attempted to straighten up as best as possible. Demyx seemed very reluctant to let him go, but did after a few more minutes as Zexion's stomach continued to churn viciously.

 

Zexion turned again to head into the house, nerves settling back down as he increased the distance between them. He didn't stop when he heard Demyx's voice carry down the hallway he had fled into, “The print from the newspapers came off on your left cheek. I thought you should know.”

 

Demyx's voice sounded concerned, but just underneath was a hollowness that hadn't been there before. It reminded Zexion of how he used to sound all those years ago. Now his voice was laced with indifference, but sometimes, like a few minutes ago, he sounded like he could feel again.

 

Zexion turned to glance back over his shoulder and watched as Demyx appeared to collapse in on himself; he looked far frailer than Zexion believed him to be.

 

“Demyx?”

 

Demyx glanced up at Zexion's call, the small smile he gave him was so false it made Zexion's heart cramp painfully in his chest. “I'm sorry, okay? Thanks for the cookies.”

 

Zexion was expecting him to leave, just like all the others had done, so when he returned from the kitchen five minutes later with both teas in hand, he was shocked to find Demyx still there, sitting on the steps of his porch.

 

Maybe he was different.

 

Demyx, he had seemed so bright and happy but Zexion reconsidered that idea, maybe, just maybe, he may actually be little bit like him. Zexion had no family left and very few friends; he thought that he'd like Demyx to be one of them. Zexion knew deep down that he was lonely and he hurt inside, but Zexion would never admit it or allow himself to dwell on it.

 

What's passed has passed for him, now he just had to soldier onwards. Maybe, one day, he would get past it.

 

But not today, or even tomorrow.

 

In the two meetings they'd had, Demyx had stirred so many emotions inside Zexion that he'd believed were long buried, he didn't know whether that was a good thing or not. He had been living day-to-day since that one moment in his past that he refused to think about, he never thought too far back or too far forward - there only laid disappointment.

 

But Demyx made him think about odd things. Things he had thought he'd had left behind.

 

Zexion thought that he would eventually come down to a choice. Whether he had the courage to take what was offered with both hands and pull it to him, or if he would continue, as he had done, walking down an empty road, existing, but not truly living.

 

Demyx watched Zexion walk away down the corridor to what he assumed was the kitchen at the back of the house, and then slumped down onto the porch steps to wait for him to return, his back pressed up against one of the rough wooden posts framing the doorway.

 

He looked down at the steps but didn't really see them, he wondered if Zexion planned on coming back at all. He did leave the door open - I hope that means he's coming back. Demyx really wanted talk to with him some more.

 

The conversation had been a little stunted at first but it felt good talking to him.

 

Heck, he'd even tried to tease him once, even though that was a bit of a sensitive topic. But, Demyx guessed that Zexion really didn't know any better, and he decided that Zexion was a little awkward, which is he found rather cute. He was really glad that Zexion liked cookies too or he thought that he'd meant that he liked cookies - maybe he was just being nice?

 

Demyx knew he was trying to avoid the issue that was really bothering him and he guessed that he really should face up to it or it would just sit there and niggle at him all night.

He flinched away from my touch.

 

Why would he do that? Was he so repulsed by De,myx's touch that he didn't want his hands on him? But he didn't seem as bad when he'd grabbed Zexion's shoulders to steady him. So what is it that I did wrong exactly?

 

Demyx felt his brow furrowing into a frown, it felt odd there though. Zexion had looked so frightened, smoky eyes wide like saucers and his skin had gone a deathly shade of white. First, when he'd tried to shake Zexion's hand, he'd stared fixedly at it like Demyx was offering him a snake instead of a hand shake, and then a second time. He'd recoiled so fast he'd made himself unsteady on his feet when Demyx had tried to wipe the newspaper print off of his cheek. Demyx didn't think he'd ever been looked at like that before. He tried his best to suppress the cold shudder that he felt under his skin but it rippled through him unheeded.

 

Demyx's heart was contracting in pain at that memory of that look. He'd never witnessed such abject fear in a person, just before Zexion had shuttered away those unique eyes. He couldn't remember anyone's ever being frightened of him before.

 

Demyx heard the quiet whimper that left his lips at the thought, and he huddled into himself further to warm his suddenly chilled body. He wrapped his arms around his now upraised knees, clutching them to his body in an attempt at comfort. Demyx didn't want Zexion to be frightened, especially not of him. He wanted to take that look away from Zexion's eyes.

 

He didn't really know what this feeling inside him, but it was consuming, tumultuous and compulsive. Demyx wanted to help Zexion.

 

He wondered silently if it was really him or if it was people as a whole. Maybe, he has a phobia. “Why didn't I talk to Axel about him before I left?” Demyx could hear the questions in his own hushed voice and he desperately wanted answers, but he wouldn't face Zexion again just to bombard him with very private questions.

 

If there was something wrong with Zexion, he didn't think he knew him well enough yet to tell him about them. Maybe Axel would give him some ideas; Demyx didn't want to make whatever it was worse.

 

“Alright, I'm not leaving and I'm gonna do my best.” Demyx could feel something deep down in his heart squeeze lightly as though pleased with his decision. The fact that he could feel his heart so much was a sure sign that Demyx was doing something right. Demyx had felt like there was been an emptiness inside him for so long that he was wondering if je still had a heart.

 

He turned at the slight scuff of socked feet against the floorboards. His frown transformed into a small smile at the reappearance of the mysterious slate haired man. Zexion. He looked momentarily confused at the sight of him sitting on his porch. Demyx would take a guess that he had been expecting him to leave. Not likely, my friend. I'm not going anywhere fast. I promise.

 

Demyx could see the puzzlement disappear from Zexion's eyes. What looked suspiciously like gratitude and a flicker of a smile emerged in those beautiful charcoal depths. It reminded Demyx of the rare smiles that Cloud and Leon gave, the ones that showed the most in their eyes. Ahh… he's one of those guys. Demyx thought happily, content to have discovered a small piece of the Zexion puzzle. It was clear that Zexion was the type of guy whose emotions showed the most in his eyes, not necessarily on his face. Not that I wouldn't mind getting him to smile for me.

 

Demyx couldn't wait to see what else there was to know about this gorgeous creature in front of him. He let his eyes trail over Zexion, taking in the well worn grey sweatshirt, slightly misshapen but comfortable looking, threadbare jeans and bare feet. He looked comfortable, at home - nice.

 

The pair sat in an awkward silence for a time before Demyx decided that a game of twenty questions would help to break the ice that had formed between them. It turned pretty well in the end.

 

Demyx found out that Zexion actually attended the same university that he and Axel, he was even in he and Axel's year, studying literature. Zexion works six days a week at both the University library and the public library in town, and spends whatever time he's not working or doing the work from class on reading even more books.

 

Now, Demyx wasn't that much of a bookworm but that's even he thought that was a lot of books. Demyx laughed warmly, watching how Zexion's eyes seemed to light up when he didn't even realize it, getting excited about discussing books. It gave Demyx a wonderful sense of warmth that radiated through his body, centring and settling, so it seemed, into his belly, in place of those darned butterflies.

 

Zexion seemed far more hesitant with his questions to Demyx than he had been with him. It was as though he wasn't supposed to be prying or that he was uncertain what was safe to ask. Demyx told Zexion succinctly that he could ask him anything, after the first five attempts he'd made at starting the game failed.

 

Demyx told him all about what he was doing at University. That he studied music and that, embarrassingly, he didn't read or study half as much as he probably should.

 

He explained a bit about Cloud and Roxas and what they did for work and studies. Demyx deliberately avoided the fact that they were his stepbrothers. People seemed to react oddly when he told them that.

 

To Demyx they were family - that's it.

 

He couldn't believe how long they sat there talking, tea forgotten, as they sat on the porch steps, his rather enthusiastic hands free to gesticulate wildly as he was want to do. Before they knew it, it was past eleven, darkness had rolled in and the 'short while' had turned into a three-hour talk.

 

Zexion had appeared rather anxious to get back to his studies, as he had originally said he had a lot of work to do. Demyx left somewhat grudgingly, promising to bring Zexion some CD's tomorrow as he didn't seem to have any music to listen to. Demyx even asked if maybe he could lend him a good book, if he had one.

 

He got an almost smile for that one.

 

Demyx watched as Zexion closed the door, returning inside to do some work and hoping he didn't notice that he did a small dance as he descended the porch steps. Demyx could feel his whole body tingling with excitement at this new prospect of friendship.

 

There had been no more near misses and he had seemed genuinely intrigued about his music. So maybe, just maybe, they could start something new here. Demyx liked him - but they'd have to see.

 

It was always good to make new friends and he thought that Zexion would be a good one. Now he just had to figure out this odd feeling that kept tugging inside his chest whenever he thought about the quiet man, and what it was that turned him from Demyx's touch.

 

Demyx was the more affectionate of his brothers, after all. He didn't want to annoy Zexion with his own need to touch.

 

He arrived home to find Roxas curled up on top of Axel, fast asleep on the couch in front of the TV, screen blank but still on. It looked like they'd missed the movie again. It brought a soft smile to Demyx's lips.

 

He reached over the back of the sofa and pulled down the throw that always sat there just for this sort of occasion. Settling it around them both to make sure they didn't catch a chill. Hey, it may still be hot but it's not impossible you know!

 

Axel cracked an emerald eye open peering up at Demyx from under a droopy eyelid and just quietly mumbled, “Thanks Dem.” Before cracking a yawn, and pulling Roxas more firmly into his embrace and falling right back to sleep again.

 

He'd have one hell of a crick in his neck by morning but Demyx knew that Axel wouldn't give this up for the world. That's just the way they were.

 

Demyx gently ruffled Roxas's hair and watched as he nuzzled further into Axel. He whispered over his shoulder as he left the room to head for his own bed, “Goodnight guys and thanks.”