Kingdom Hearts Fan Fiction ❯ To catch a falling star ❯ Part 5 ( Chapter 5 )

Chapter 5

 

Zexion wasn't really sure how he'd ended up there but, he was pretty sure that it had quite a lot to do with a pair of limpid blue puppy dog eyes, a very adorable pout and a plate of chocolate chip cookies, which he had grown quite fond of.

Where there was, you might enquire, is crammed in the back of Axel's decidedly small, black, two door vehicle far too close to an overly excited and very bouncy Demyx. Watching his behaviour Zexion wouldn't have believed that the dirty blond haired man had risen at the crack of dawn. He looked around the crammed packed car, he found it hard to understand why it was necessary to take all the excess paraphernalia packed in around them, but that was apparently what was needed when going to the beach.

Yes, you heard him correctly - the beach.

So how did Zexion get suckered into taking a jaunt out to the seaside with two overly excitable blond s and when smirking red-head, after doing his level best to give a staunch and adamant refusal? Well, here goes, in Zexion's opinion, a complete and inexplicable explanation.

Demyx had been hid constant companion since the cookie incident - Zexion was calling it that, anyway. For the entire summer, seven baking hot weeks, Demyx had been floating about outside the writer's house after he got home from work - every single day - no matter how much Zexion ignored him or told him insistently to go home. He was always there waiting for him - Zexion swore that the musician was watching out for him to catch him when he was home.

Zexion had never let him into the house: that was his own private space, plus he didn't want to think about what other people would say about his lack of decoration, it was rather - spartan. But Demyx always came and sat on the porch, happy to settle in for a couple of hours every night. So, after a week or so of this, Zexion moved a chair, a small table and a cushion outside for him, just in case Demyx wanted them.

Zexion had seen the way Demyx rubbed at his neck, as though it was aching, it made him feel - discontent -t to see the sprightly musician in any kind of pain. He didn't want to read any further into that than was necessary, choosing to act instead of dwell for once. Zexion decided that if the silly idiot was going to be this persistent, the least he could do was make it more comfortable. Zexion may be as dispassionate as a rock but he maintained his manners, they had brought him up that way.

Demyx seemed content to sit on the overly large cushion, settling it so it was pressed diagonally against one of the supports for the wraparound porch so he'd have something to lean against. He seemed to sit for hours contentedly strumming away on the strings of his sitar or humming quietly to the music he had plugged in his ears. Demyx looked happy to just be here, doing mundane things like homework, he often wrote down reams of musical notes that Zexion didn't really understand - not that he'd ever admit that, of course. Zexion would just go study up on it at work, he didn't like not understanding things and not understanding Demyx seemed to irritate him more than anything else.

Zexion assumed that this was Demyx's version of studying. He was a music student after all.

He was the one that ended up sat in the chair, text books spread across the small table as he worked on his studies and relaxing into the gentle melodies Demyx so effortlessly strung together.

It was so rare that Zexion got to listen to music. He had mentioned that to Demyx when they had first met and the blond haired man had insisted that, when he had a chance, he would lend Zexion some music to try; saying it was good for the soul or something ridiculous like that - so very Demyx. Unfortunately Zexion didn't have anything to play it on - but the musician didn't need to know that.

It seemed Zexion was slowly becoming entwined in Demyx's life and Demyx in his. Demyx may not have realised it, but he'd been slowly chipping away at the wall Zexion had erected around his heart after the accident; his emotions, once buried deep in the darkest recesses of his mind and heart, were now appearing completely unexpectedly. It also didn't help that there were increasing occurrences of that inexplicable heat that radiated through Zexion's body, pouring from his skin, making him feel heady and weak kneed. It always happened around him - Demyx. Zexion wasn't certain what the other man was doing to him and he still couldn't figure out if it was good or bad but... it was new and he was curious about what it was.

Zexion couldn't rightly remember what these feelings where, but they were driving him insane. He wasn't sure what was happening to his tightly reigned control but he was constantly flooded with thoughts and sensations and they were all compounded in the almost desperate need to touch, something he had shied away from for years. The feelings and needs being unleashed inside him both worried and confounded him.

Not to get confused, because around everyone else Zexion felt and appeared as he always had, calm, collected, objective - normal for him. But as soon as Demyx appeared his cool collected control went out the door and he turned into an emotionally fraught teenager, the musician got under his skin and Zexion was resisting the need, the want to touch him. To feel that tanned skin, to touch the dip at the base of his throat, to feel his pulse under his fingertips, to run his fingers through the spikes of his hair and see what texture the silky looking strands actually had.

The feelings were never unpleasant - just highly unsettling, confusing and nigh on overwhelming for someone who had pushed all emotion and need aside years ago. Zexion didn't like being confused about anything and no book he had read on the subject seemed to be able to explain it.

The presence of the blond haired man felt like a fresh breeze whispering across his skin, trying to tease him out of his shell. Zexion had locked away his emotions years before, tamping them down firmly in the pit of his heart: they were dangerous and volatile to both his health and, at one time, to his fragile mind. He wasn't the same as he was then, years of experience had changed his ideas and strengthened the once fragile shell of his mind. Could he really let his emotions out again? Let them have free reign over his body and his psyche?

Would he break like the last time?

Zexion couldn't begrudge Demyx anything it seemed, even the things that may cause him pain. He amused and annoyed the writer in turns, but Zexion couldn't seem to push him away. Demyx was plucking his emotions out of him, like he plucked at the stings of his sitar, causing reverberation's so deep in his chest that it ached as the emotion's welled up to meet him. They were all so fresh and... new to Zexion, it was as though he had never truly felt until this point and that terrified him, it made him doubt what he had felt in the past and he wasn't really sure what to do with most of them.

Demyx's proximity soothed Zexion to some degree, though he was the cause of his emotional turmoil. Demyx had insinuated himself into Zexion's life so thoroughly in such a short amount of time it was sometimes frightening for the writer. Some of those resurfacing emotions Zexion still hadn't got a grasp on yet, but he would or Zexion would force them back into submission. He had felt the anger that he had buried deep, just as he felt the joy and pleasure. His darker emotions were the things he worried over most, but in truth he feared the ones that made him smile, that made him feel - happy. In Zexion's world happiness didn't last and it was that that made him afraid, to trust or to let go completely.

So, for seven weeks, Zexion's evenings were filled with the soft strains of music, emanating from Demyx's sensually dextrous fingers, the sound of laughter and softly spoken words. Things he had rarely known and had realised he had missed. He couldn't regret meeting the blond haired musician, he had given him so much including the appreciation he felt for his music.

But more recently Demyx had turning his talent's to something more industrious, in his mind anyway. He had been cajoling, teasing and, on occasion, attempting to beg Zexion, trying to get him to go with him to the beach. Zexion couldn't really understand Demyx's obsession with it. The beach was nothing but a collection of broken down shell fish and salt rich water that hadn't been purified in the atmosphere. Zexion couldn't say he'd ever been to the beach; granted, the prospect intrigued him to some degree, but there were far too many risks in that particular venture. Though he had been letting his emotional control slip, he didn't think he could give in to the need to touch, to be touched - it gave him that queasy, churning in his gut just at the thought of it.

It all started two weeks ago. Demyx was quietly probing Zexion for information with badly disguised questions about his work hours and if he ever had any spare time for himself away from studying.

Zexion had replied in kind and explained that he was either working or studying - he actually enjoyed learning for learning's sake. He hadn't disguised his own curiosity at Demyx's line of questioning and the musician gave him the queerest look when Zexion gave him a rather succinct reply.

The puzzled frown that had marred Demyx's brow made Zexion twitch, wanting to reach out and smooth it away, he hated seeing Demyx frowning. It reminded him to much of that day, the day he had first brought cookies to his door and the hurt that had been clear in sapphire pools. It also had a habit of giving Zexion the oddest urges, he had barely resisted the need to reach out and touch, yes touch, and smooth away those antagonising marks with his fingertips.

Zexion had proceeded to ask him some of his own questions in retaliation for the non-too-subtle grilling he had received. Querying his reasoning behind such specific questions, reasoning that during the last few weeks of his evening visits, Demyx had likely already deduced the answers to his questions.

Zexion knew he was fairly quiet at the best of times, but he did remember telling Demyx about his work at the library and his studies, mostly though, he had let Demyx's smooth, velvety voice fill the emptiness that always surrounded this house and him.Heloved to just listen to the gentle cadence of his words.

Demyx had looked rather sheepish at Zexion's rejoinder and a soft pink glow issued from his cheeks, he had rubbed at the back of his neck in that nervous gesture that he and Axel shared, stumbling endearingly over his next few words. “Well, I was...uhm...you see...I was, well we were...wondering ifyou'dcometothebeachwithusinaweekortwo.” He inhaled quickly and almost choked on the breath after his very rapid flow of words.

Zexion had sat watching him as he processed the tangled onslaught Demyx had offered up; he wanted him to go... to the beach? He raised his face to look at Demyx, after shaking his head in confusion, dark grey strands of hair falling over his face once again. Zexion had whispered his own query. “Why would you want me to do that?”

He was genuinely curious, tilting his head enough so that he could watch the blond haired man fumbling and steadily darkening in that rosy hue, rubbing more fervently at his neck. It had made Zexion want to reach out and stop the sporadic movement so he would just speak to him without interruptions and distractions. Needless to say Zexion didn't - no more panic attacks for him thank you very much.

“Well, that's easy stupid - we like your company, that's not a bad thing, ya know.” He looked so endearing, sitting there on Zexion's porch, mumbling his words, bashful to the end. Zexion hadn't even registered that Demyx had called him stupid or that his own cheeks had turned a deep magenta at Demyx's awkward compliment.

Unfortunately, beaches meant more heat and a prerequisite amount of skin being visible, plus lots of touching - Zexion couldn't do either of those things and, as much as he treasured the fact that Demyx had asked him to go with him somewhere he'd never actually been before, he couldn't allow himself to go. No matter how much he wanted to. Images of Demyx's with more skin visible than normal made his cheeks warm further - Zexion just couldn't give himself the opportunity.

It pained him because so few people actually wanted his company, and it had surprised him to realise that he actually wanted to go even though he couldn't. Demyx had filled his heart with such warmth from something so simple; he never could manage to smother this sweet ache the musician had instigated in his chest ever since he'd met him. It appeared as though Zexion's emotions had turned into a runaway train whenever this delightful blond creature was anywhere near him. a tumult of want, pleasure and regret filling his chest.

Zexion had once been excellent at appearing completely impassive and cold - now half the time, when Demyx was nearby, he was struggling with himself not to smile or just to sit and stare at the musician as he played.

But this?

This Zexion couldn't do - he could feel his heart weighing heavily in his chest, it felt like he couldn't breathe, he knew what he would need to do.

Zexion mustered his resolve and injected as much disinterest into his voice as he could, “I can't go out, I have work and my studies to think of. It's almost time to go back to college, you should be studying, too.”

Zexion knew he didn't have to be so chilly, but Demyx was persistent and if he didn't rebuff him firmly now then the musician would just keep insisting and Zexion worried more and more at the power this one person seemed to hold over him.

He never wanted to see Demyx sad, even though, by doing this, he would make him so.

Which is why Zexion had looked out past him, not watching as his eyes drift to the ground, shoulders slumping.

Demyx was so dejected by Zexion's reply and he couldn't bear witness to it; even as his heart constricted in his chest, begging him to look just at Demyx. He couldn't help but try to comfort him a little bit - and maybe that was Zexion's undoing, “I'm sorry Demyx - I can't go to the beach with you.”

Demyx instinctively reached out for Zexion and he flinched away from his outstretched hand and in that moment he had known that that had hurt far worse than his words ever had. Demyx withdrew his hand and tucked it firmly in his lap, far away from him.

Zexion felt like he'd kicked a puppy, a deep bitter feeling churning in his gut, he couldn't help looking at him and whispering so quietly it wasn't more than a breath, “I'm sorry.” Zexion didn't know if Demyx had heard him.

Demyx had nodded silently and sat for a few minutes, struggling with - something - in his mind; his sitar sat untouched, resting against the wall of the house - silent. “Zexion - I'm gonna head home, I'm... tired.” Zexion had watched with pain in his heart as Demyx had risen to his feet, wrapping slender fingers around the neck of the delicate instrument leaning against the house and quietly slipped off the porch; shoulders slumped, he looked so alone and Zexion couldn't bear it.

“Are you... coming back... tomorrow?” Zexion's voice was tentative, almost fragile, even though he was trying to sound like his usual, stoic self. His typical self assurance had been decimated by the emotions of one very disheartened blond. Zexion felt like his heart was fraying around the edges at Demyx's lost expression. The only reply Zexion had received as he watched Demyx looked at him from over his shoulder was the barest nod, before he turned away once more and continued on his way.

Demyx never came by the following night and Zexion believed that he had pushed him away with his harsh words and lack of social graces - he didn't rest well that night. Much to his chagrin, Zexion was getting far too attached to Demyx, his sunny, musical blond.

But Zexion had been surprised to find a plate sat by his front door in the morning, loaded with double chocolate chip cookies. He didn't resist the twitch of his lip at the sight in front of him, a small smile adorning his lips. Retrieving the dish he had tucked it away in the kitchen for later, Zexion had a feeling Demyx's stubborn streak was about to show itself.

Zexion hadn't been wrong.

He had never seen anyone go to the extremes Demyx did. The dirty bond haired man followed Zexion everywhere for two weeks solid, whether he was working or not. Demyx tailed him around the supermarket and every few hours he asked again - even resorting to bribery via cookies. Which, Zexion had to admit, he was growing to love - home baked.

It took some time on Demyx's part and a great deal of 'No's' before Demyx turned to his last resort. He had come to Zexion's house on the Friday night after he had finished work - having been absent from his job Zexion had hoped the persistent man would have given up. Instead he had found Demyx on his knees on the porch, cookies in hand and the most heart wrenching pout complete with tear drenched luminous ocean blues eyes adorning his face.

Demyx had pleaded with him, “Please, Zexion - come to the beach with me.” It had changed over the weeks from `us' to `me' and it pulled at Zexion's heart even more.

Demyx's lip trembled - he looked on the verge of tears.

Zexion couldn't help but feel the squeeze around his heart at such a sight. He had been putting up a damn good fight but, as he thought Demyx knew, nobody, him included, could resist that face.

He pointed an accusing finger at the kneeling man and spoke firmly, “You're a god damned sneak. That isn't fair and you know it.”

Demyx had blinked up at him in confusion and the look that crossed his face made Zexion feel like had slapped him and he knew that he'd gone and done it again.

“I... sorry, Demyx.”

Zexion had reached out and realized just what he'd been about top do, stepped back and dropped his hand down, hoping Demyx hadn't seen. Zexion was always putting his big foot in it. He should already know that Demyx was the kind of person who didn't realize what that face could do to people, he just wanted his company for one afternoon - surely he could do that?

Zexion had shifted and walked around Demyx, pausing at his side, hair shadowing his face from those curious baby blues eyes, “I'll go, alright - just don't ... do that, okay?” Zexion had hoped that Demyx understood what he'd meant by those words. He didn't want to see the musician on his knees for anyone, let alone him. He never wanted to see him cry, either - just the threat of being the cause of his tears made his heart feel like it was breaking.

Zexion had chanced a glance down from under his bangs to catch sight of a breathtaking smile, that curled those sweet looking lips, blue eyes dancing with joy, no longer drenched with impending tears.

Demyx had placed the plate down to the side, rising to his full height, moving as if to hug Zexion and he moved quickly the other way - his nerves jangling viciously in his stomach.

“Don't do that.”His voice was breathy and he could hear the edge of fear lacing through it.

Demyx's smile had faltered somewhat but stayed as he nodded quietly, whispering something Zexion could barely hear, “I hope you'll tell me about that one day.”

Zexion's arms wrapped protectively around his body, baggy shirt fisted over his bare hands, trying to protect every inch of visible skin, face turning to look at the ground again

“There's nothing to tell.”

Demyx had looked at him then, watching and perceiving - something. His lip lifted at the corner, a small smile tilting the soft looking petals, “Alright then, Zexy.”

That nasty nickname again, but Zexion knew, from just seven weeks in Demyx's company, that he had dropped the subject.

“So how about we have tea and some of these cookies, and then I'll fill you in on what 'cha need on Sunday? Hey, when you gonna let me in your house ... hmmm... you always make the tea and I wanna help you?”

“Yes, alright, and sometime never - in that order.”

Zexion's barriers had gone back up again and the conversation that followed seemed to resemble playful banter that ebbed back and forth. He'd never been more grateful for it.

Zexion always found it difficult to be around someone who was so physically orientated, but Demyx had finagled his way into the writer's life and he couldn't say that he was too unhappy about it.

So, this morning, early even for him, they had all piled into Axel's small car, that he loved and cooed at ridiculously, and headed for the beach. An hour or so later, they arrived to be greeted by a vista of sparkling blue, that reminded Zexion of a certain dirty blond sitting next to him.

It was beautiful and he couldn't help but stare at it in awe - so much more than what he had expected. His fingers rested against the cool glass as he watched the ebb and flow of the waves. Even thought Zexion had been reluctant at first, to not have been able to see this? He couldn't help but voice his thoughts, voice full of awe, “It's so beautiful.”

“Yep - it really is.”

Zexion didn't realize that Demyx wasn't looking at the sea when he said that or that his eyes locked with Axel's in the central mirror, once they had been turned away from me or the strange way they seemed to understand each other in an inaudible conversation.

'It's him, isn't it?'

'Yeah, it is.'

'I'm glad.'

'Thanks - this isn't going to be easy, is it?'

'No but things like that are worth it in the end.'

'Alright - I'll do my best.'

'Go for it - got it memorized?'

'Yep.'

Zexion turned back to see Demyx grinning and his heart fluttered like a baby bird inside his chest. Demyx was beautiful, too -he growled in his head, stupid berating himself and reminding himself to stay away from those kinds of thoughts they lead to nothing but awkwardness.

What could Zexion say? He wasn't the type to wax poetic, that was Marluxia's job. Zexion couldn't resist - Demyx just seemed to shine. Whilst he, well, if he was being all broody and metaphorical Zexion would say that Demyx was the light and he the shadow. Apparently he was channelling the pink haired menace today.

He looked back out the window and watched the waves crashing and rolling against the sand.

Zexion sat wondering just when it would be that this small moment of peace would come crashing down around him - all over again.