Hello everyone! This is my first Kingdom Hearts fanfic. Who inspired me to write this was Schmelly Inc, an author who has the most wonderful Axel and Naminè stories. Punkiemonkie was very kind to explain to me about the Nobodies, so I wasn't confused about them when I wrote this. If you like the Larxene and Axel pairing, then this is not the best story to read, heh. You might like to say this is AU or OOC, if you are one of those who are very particular on those kinds of things, I might as well warn you.
The title is completely the main point of this story, so pay attention to some sections where you see those words. I edited this so many freaking times, I'm sick of words. Well, hopefully you'll forgive my blabbering and enjoy this fic.
Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts, Chain of Memories or any of the characters. If I did, Axel would be on vacation, Naminè would not have joined with Kairi, and the red-headed Nobody and the little artist would be married and have two kids named Fred and George
(A/N): This takes place before Chain of Memories. Thoughts are in italics.
And I did meant this to be really long…
::Scribble of Red::
A tiny scratch of the black pencil, and she would be done. And there! She was finished. Well, perhaps a little more red would do the trick. Delicately grasping onto the ruddy colored instrument with her frail little fingers, the young girl drew strokes across the piece of paper to complete her drawing. She wanted it to be perfect. She wanted it to be her finest picture. This 'perfect' picture, however, would be the one she kept a secret. She would try to hide it, like her feelings. But there she was wrong.
She could not feel, nor love, for Nobodies had no hearts.
How could she be so foolish in believing so? Of course, she could not feel. She could feel nothing. Nothing at all. Not anger, not sadness, not pity, not happiness, and definitely not love.
So they say.
Carefully, the fifteen year old drew the last mark of her drawing and lifted the sketch pad to eye level, scrutinizing it for any imperfections, any flaws. Letting a small smile trace upon her soft lips, she determined that it was indeed, wonderful. The man in the picture looked just like the man whom she saw every day.
He would merely stand solemnly in the corner of the lifeless, white room, staring at the floor with his arms crossed over his chest. Sometimes he would gaze into the giant orb that was centered in the room. She would glance at him occasionally, taking in his appearance, how he looked, how pleasing his countenance was. 'Tis a shame that he didn't watch her much. Every day she would wait for his coming. She would go through every anguishing moment just to see his face. It was worth it all. It was worth Marluxia's taunting and Larxene's abusing antics and teasing words.
Ah, their coming would send shivers down her spine, unlike his visit. The blonde, tall, skinny woman would have the early shift of keeping a piercing eye on her. Larxene would stroll in casually with a swing to her hips as she twisted a blonde strand of hair around her lengthy, leather clad finger. Hours of horrible conversations and ogling from the emerald eyed woman would frighten the young teenager. She would simply bite her lip and scribble away at another one of her drawings.
The other man's visit, however, would be entirely different, and not in a pleasant manner.
He would stride in mysteriously, with a smirk fixed upon his face and furrowed eyebrows. His strawberry brown hair swept against his face as he scratched his chin, as if thinking hard on something in particular. Shivering from his stare, she would only let her eyes rest upon her drawing, which she so furiously worked on every single minute of the day.
But then, he would come in.
That was when her day would immediately brighten. So lively her features would be as she gazed down at the picture she would be working on as he stood in the distance. That was when she felt safe. Though, she would not let it show.
Yet, she could not help but let a twinge play at her lips as her eyes met his once in awhile.
Then she would glance away, focusing on her drawing of Sora and Riku with that girl. She could feel. She could love. Why couldn't her Nobody feel as well? How envious she was of Kairi, the red headed girl who had Sora's heart. They had hearts. They had love. They shared their love with each other. Why couldn't the Nobody love?
Because she had not a heart.
She had an empty void deep in her soulless mind.
There was nothing but darkness replacing her heart. Letting out a soft sigh, the girl cautiously tore the finalized picture from the sketch pad and stood up, placing the book of drawings on the chair where she once sat. With barely a smile, she pressed the picture close to her bosom as she let her dull blue eyes dart across the room, searching for a place to hide the picture. Then she found it. The perfect place to hide the perfect picture. It was the white couch off to the other side of the room. If she had enough time, she could hide it. Only a few minutes before Larxene entered for her scheduled time.
Though there were times when Marluxia, Larxene and him would be there together, having a meeting. Sometimes Vexen, the scientist of the Organization would be there with them. He was rather frightening as well, but not in the same way as Marluxia. Yet, he never talked to her, nor did he have any interest to.
Sprinting across the marbled, pure white floor, she made her way over the couch, crouching down so that she could tuck away the piece of paper underneath the seating. Though, if she hid it under the couch, it would be easier to see. Standing back up, she lifted one of the cushions and hastily placed the picture under it, pushing down the pillow so that the couch seemed as if it was untouched.
Almost letting out a satisfied sigh, she was disrupted by the sound of the door opening. Hurriedly glancing back, she saw the first one who was assigned to watch her for the day.
It was her.
Larxene nonchalantly strolled across the floor as the door shut behind her, the sound of the door closing reverberating in the silence. With a smirk, she noticed the young girl by the couch and could not help but show her interest. Her perky face made the younger girl tremble, for it sent shivers through her spine.
"Slacking off, little witch?" the taller woman queried with an arched eyebrow. Quickly, the girl shook her head, keeping her eyes down at the floor and her head bowed.
"N-no, I was just-" she stuttered as she tried to lie. But Larxene interrupted her, lifted up an index finger and shook it, a hateful hint gleaming in her eyes.
"Uh-uhh. I know what you were doing," Larxene swiftly turned away and placed her long hands upon her hips. The girl's breathing hitched, dreading that she might have been caught hiding her precious picture. She couldn't let her find it, she couldn't let her know, but she had no choice in that matter.
"Um, uh, I…" she stammered again, rubbing her hands together before grabbing on the side of her white dress that ended a few inches above her knees.
"You were trying to go to sleep, weren't you? Well, we can't have that, now can we? Go back over to that chair and continue doing your stupid drawings," Larxene scowled as she went over to where the girl stood gazing at the floor.
Bending down to her eye level, Larxene stooped in front of the shy, quiet girl as she stared at her. Swallowing hard, the timid Nobody let her lip quiver as she raised her cerulean eyes to the woman's green ones. Roughly, Larxene raised her index finger again and fished it under the small girl's chin, lifting it up so that she would not be able to look down.
"Didn't you hear me? Get back to work," she growled as she brought her other hand swiping across the girl's face. Hissing in sharply, the victim sulked as she went back over to her chair where her art supplies rested and rubbed her face, feeling the sting that the woman's slap caused her cheek to feel. Her cheek felt raw and biting pain.
She could feel the pain…
With worry written across her brow, she gathered up her sketch pad and pencils as she settled down in the white, plain chair that was always positioned off to the side of the room. As she prepared to draw another picture of Sora, Riku and Kairi, she paused, examining her red pencil. It was broken. Mysterious on how that came to be, but that was not important. The fact that her beloved red pencil was broken grieved her, for she would have to ask Larxene. Unfortunately, at that particular moment, the malicious woman noticed the girl's hesitation.
"What is it now, little witch?" she snapped viciously as she impatiently tapped her foot.
"I need another red pencil," the girl barely whispered.
"What, you'll complain if you don't get it?"
Larxene was the cat, and she the mouse. She teased her with her chiding voice. She prowled on her victim each and every day, seething as she decided what to do to hurt the artist next. Yet, the young girl would just continue coloring away. She would just continue drawing another memory of Sora's. She had no choice. What else could she do? Without another word, the girl went back to her new drawing, never minding the fact she was absent of a red pencil after that little conversation.
Perhaps Larxene was more like a kitten. After all, she had some innocent features to her. One minute she would be acting sugar-coated, then the next she would pounce on her prey.
The girl was the mouse, quiet, timid, never saying a word of her own. How she longed for a heart. It must feel nice. Love must feel nice. Happiness must feel nice. But she would never know, no, of course not. How could she even hope for a heart?
"Hmph, that's what I thought," Larxene rolled her eyes as she plopped down lazily in the white couch. Trembling, the teenager looked over to the other Nobody, praying to whatever god there was out there that she would not discover her precious picture.
The picture of him that she had so much pride in…
Obeying Larxene's command of drawing another memory, she picked out a blue pencil with her small white hand and began to color the outline of Sora's shirt as she imagined him standing there with her, her Somebody. Slightly frowning, she knew that as she continued to draw, Sora's memories would be manipulated. She did not want that. But they were making her do this evil task.
Marluxia told her to do the ill-favored drawings. She had no choice. How she longed to help Sora instead, but could not. If he entered Castle Oblivion, it might as well be all over. He would slowly lose his memories because of her.
It would be all her fault…
Well, they made her think it was all her fault. But was it? That, she did not know. That was the question that prodded her mind. Useless ponderings were what Marluxia would call them. Every single day she would wonder if she could do better with her life, if she had a choice whether Sora would lose his memory or not. The artist let out another pitiful sigh as she began coloring Sora's smiling face. How happy he looked in her picture. But that was not on her mind at the moment.
Larxene was leaning against her elbow, which was propped against the arm of the couch. Every day, the girl had to watch the woman's flirtations that were fixed upon him, the one Nobody who actually made the girl at ease. Every day Larxene would flutter her long eyelashes and place a hand on his shoulder as she would hold him in conversation about something utterly useless.
There she would have to sit and watch these events as she colored away at her sketch book. She felt as if she was suffering from jealousy. Larxene could flirt, talk to him, and he just stand there, taking it all in. How it pained the girl so. How much she inwardly grimaced as she watched Larxene try to seduce him. How much it grieved her. She could tell that there was a little tug at whatever was in her chest. A carved out hole in her soul that sent horrible pangs around the raw, rough edges that kept eating away at her. Pain…emotional pain.
Maybe she could feel after all.
After all, she felt emptiness. Isn't a barren feeling similar to having a miserable void inside? That hope that would never satisfy? Hope. What is hope, exactly? Whatever it was, she did not care. Not anymore, she did not. So she would go back to her horrible drawings. She had the power of toying with memories, and the power to bring them back together. She was special, so they would say. She was a witch. He would never want a witch…
Larxene abruptly stood up from her current position and crossed her slender arms as she made her way slowly over to the young teenager. Curious as to why the woman made such a sudden movement, the girl gradually looked up through the blonde tendrils covering part of her face.
"What are you drawing? Oh, I see, that stupid little brat," Larxene waved her hand as she whirled around as she begun to pace back and forth across the room.
"He won't come for you, you know, unless he remembers you," she spoke warningly as she halted in front of the wall that was plastered with numerous drawings. A cocky smile crossed her features.
"You know what to do. It's what you're good at. Probably the only thing you're good at, little witch," she sneered as she noticed how uncomfortable she made the girl.
Nervously, the artist scribbled some more of the brown pencil to color in Sora's hair. Larxene was right. The only thing she was good at was destroying people's memories. Breathing out ever so softly, she grabbed onto the edges of her sketch book as she stared at her drawing. She still needed the red pencil, but wouldn't dare to ask again.
"Sora…will he really come if I…" she let her frail voice trail off into the silence of the midst in the room.
"If you what? Mess with his memories? Of course he will," Larxene glanced back over to the little white witch and smirked, "Instead of Kairi, he will think only of you. You want that, don't you? You want to be loved, right?"
"Yes…"
But not by Sora. Kairi needed his love. Kairi loved him and he loved Kairi. What she wanted was love of her own, but there was no way to get it.
"Good," Larxene continued walking around the white room pass the couches and columns.
Larxene went on about how dull her life was and the small girl paid her no attention as she finished her new picture of Sora. To her, Larxene's rants were mere blabbers. She chewed on her fingernails as she tried to decide what to draw next. It could not be anything pleasurable to her, for that was not the point of her pictures, which was the reason she hid the picture of the Nobody.
A dark, smoke emitted at one side of the room with deep purple mist swirling around the base of the portal that was appearing. This caught Larxene's full attention, as she started by jumping a bit. The captive didn't even flinch, for she knew who it was. Though, she could not help but admit that she was, indeed, frightened.
"Ah, Marluxia, is it your turn, now, to watch the witch? Finally! I was so bored, watching nothing but our little witch scribble away…" Larxene quipped as she smoothed out her silky hair. The man who was addressed removed the black hood that covered his face, allowing a flower petal or two fall to the floor.
"Indeed, it is. You may go now. Leave us," Marluxia boldly put in his word as he watched the older blonde woman sneer for the umpteenth time that day. With a short huff, Larxene disappeared into her own portal, with the mist vanishing as well as her.
There was silence as the young blonde girl gazed at her drawing through dull, aqua eyes. She would not dare look at him. She would not dare…she knew who he was: the purpose of her being held a prisoner. If she did not rearrange Sora's memories, she would be locked in there forever. For the rest of her life.
Her worthless, empty life. How pathetic she was.
Feeling him approach, she trembled slightly, trying her best to focus on tearing out the picture. But as she ripped out the page, she noticed just how close Marluxia was to her. Slowly, he came up from behind her chair and she felt the fear come up through her soul. The closeness was too extreme for the girl's likeness, especially when she acknowledged the man trailing his index finger down her bare neck and down to her shoulder.
"Your hero will arrive soon," he whispered in her ear, his lips brushing against it. She felt the strands of his hair tickling her cheeks and she gulped. Slowly, he tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear, making her more uncomfortable. Her chin quivered, aware of how dangerous this position was for her to be in.
Her hero? The Organization came to believe that she thought Sora to be her hero. Why? Did he save her? Did he truly love her? No, he did not. So why would he be considered her "hero"? No, the man she longed to be her hero had no idea of her feelings, if she had any.
If only she could…actually love. How unfair it was for Nobodies, how horrible. Why couldn't they feel? Who said they couldn't? Did they even try? True, they did not have hearts, but what their inner voice told them, what their memories were, that was what feelings meant to her.
Her thoughts were disrupted as the man who was keeping a keen eye on her at the moment backed away, freeing her from the tension of being too near him. With a perplexed expression, she hopped off of her chair and strolled peacefully over to the wall with her artwork displayed. Marluxia stood seriously in the center of the room, focusing on the glass orb that was positioned on the sturdy stand. She shot him a cautious look, watching him carefully in case he tried to make another move.
The witch smoothed out the picture of Sora next to the picture of Kairi and Riku. Some of her old drawings lacked character and was not solid in the figment of the colors. Then her eyes rested upon the very first picture she drew since her stay there at Castle Oblivion. A scribble of red…it was a heart. Why she drew that, she did not entirely know. Maybe it was because she wanted a heart. Every day she prayed for a heart.
That day was the first day she met him.
She was scared, not sure of what to do when Marluxia practically dragged her into the cold, white, lifeless room. Her hand held at her mouth as she bit her nail on her index finger, with the brunette, tall, muscular man holding onto her thin arm. She couldn't remember where she was from, where she came from, who she was; nothing. All she knew was her name and her talent: drawing out a being's memories, their dreams, and their life. She could break someone's heart if she wanted to, but that was just it. She did not want to. But Marluxia…if she refused, there was no telling what he would do to her.
Though, he was the one who was there in the white room. His bright, shocking red hair stood out strongly, and it contrasted nicely from the pureness of the room. His jade eyes had glanced at her blankly, not really caring who she was. But her eyes remained locked on him, curious of whom he was.
He was the only one who was rather nice to her. He would give her new pencils whenever she needed them.
"You will draw a picture of the castle," Marluxia's deep, sultry voice broke the silence. She tensed, knowing that she would be destroying Sora's memories again. When would it stop? Never, possibly, but she might never know. There she stood, not looking at anything in particular, but just staring out into space, thinking.
"Didn't you hear me?" his cold, emotionless voice pierced the stillness of the room as the girl turned around, facing him. His speech was not lustful, no, yet it was chilling to the bone.
"Yes…but…" No, she did not dare ask him for the red pencil.
Marluxia was the spider, and she the fly.
She was caught in his web of conscientiousness and deceiving lies. He enjoyed hunting his prey, terrorizing it, gradually breaking down its confidence. Her hopes would be crushed by him, and she, the fly, would struggle in his lies and craftiness. She had no way of escaping. Not one.
"But what?" Marluxia demanded with a quirk of a smirk. Sharply inhaling, the young girl shook her head.
"Nothing."
With that, she went back over to her chair, picking up her sketch pad and pencils, seating herself so that she was comfortable. Beginning her picture of Castle Oblivion, she made a silent wish that maybe he would leave her alone, like he usually did at times. Sometimes he would vanish from sight, leaving her abandoned. Yet at times, he would place a gloved hand on her bare shoulder, fiddling with the white strap of her dress, which would make her feel insecure. Cold.
Unlike him.
She would feel warm with him close, longing for more. But it was not possible.
Praying that time would pass by quickly, the artist began to color the castle's outline with various different colors to make it more to her liking. Greens, sapphires, lavenders, blacks, and grays covered the page. It did not take much to make it seem very extravagant. Quite proud of it herself, she lifted it up, taking in the explosive colors. The red was missing.
However, it seemed rather nice and quaint without the red, more subtle. Glimpsing up for the first time since she picked up the first pencil for her now finished drawing, she noticed Marluxia gone. She was not surprised. She was rather relieved that he was gone. He did this often. She was too focused on her drawing to pay attention to him.
Now free to smile without being punished, she paced across the floor with her new picture, staring at it, wondering where Sora was at this moment. He was probably outside of the castle, or nearing it, at least. Tempted to shred the paper apart in frustration, her hands shook, trying to contain herself. All she wanted was to go home. But she did not have a home. She hated herself at times for having such a cruel power. Why her?
Posting up the sketch of the castle, she leisurely made her way back to the chair, knowing that she could have a brief break. Whenever she ruined another memory, she was awarded, but this was rare. That time she could rest her hands and just sit there and do absolutely nothing.
Nothing.
At least it was better than Larxene and Marluxia's company…Yet, she wished that he was there instead of her suffering her loneliness. She hated being alone, yet she hated being with the others, except him. Inwardly she winced, thinking about how long it would be until Marluxia did something worse…Would she feel more alone? More depressed? Would the Nobody she cared for want to cease her suffering? No, he would not. Of course not. He did not care for her.
Sniffing quietly, she rubbed the tip of her nose, wondering when they would come back in the room. Wrapping her white, slim arms around herself, she shivered, fearing the next moment that would happen.
Fearing that man…
Two portals opened suddenly at the other side of the room, causing the girl to leap in her seat, gasping from surprise. The tall blonde woman stepped out from one of them as Marluxia proceeded from the other, allowing the black swirls of smoke fade away as they both walked over to the orb, obviously interested in something.
The small girl knew that something was amiss. Usually the members of the Organization did not meet in that room unless it had something to do with Sora, or something of importance. Clutching onto her sketch book, the petite witch kept her head low, not wanting to meet the other two Nobodies' gazes.
"So, Marluxia, where is he? Why hasn't he come yet?" Larxene snapped viciously as she crossed her arms over her chest, tilting her head to the side with a smirk. Marluxia stared out into nothingness as he was deep in thought.
"He is soon to approach Castle Oblivion…we will have to make sure he gets a welcome committee tonight," he muttered quietly.
She did not have to ask who they were talking about. Sora was coming after all. If only she could stop him from arriving at the castle, she would be able to save him. But there was no way. Catching the girl's eye from quickly glancing over at him, Marluxia strolled casually over to her and bent over, placing his hand on her bare shoulder.
"Your hero is coming tonight. Isn't that what you want? Isn't it?" he taunted as he raised her small chin up with his other hand.
"Yes," she barely whispered as she made herself look off past the man's deathly gaze.
"Whatever. So, what do we do once he comes? What about our 'welcoming committee'?" Larxene scoffed as she went over to the white couch, the same one that hid the teenager's prized picture. The girl caught her breath as she watched Larxene from the corner of her eye. Marluxia almost lost the sign of indifference as he craned his neck towards the older woman. Of course, the girl's hesitation and nervousness made him more interested, yet he would not mention what was on his mind.
"Axel and I will greet him at the first floor tonight," he murmured with an edge of cruelty to his masculine voice as he addressed Larxene, though he stayed by the artist's side, "You will stay here with her. Make sure she draws more of his memories."
Larxene let out a short, haughty laugh as she gave a little wave by the flick of her wrist.
"My pleasure."
"Good," Marluxia straightened his stance and drew his hand away from the prisoner's smooth, round shoulder. She let out a shuddering sigh as she looked down upon her blank sketch book. What would they have her draw next?
Would Sora arrive soon, like they said? They would not lie about that, even though they lied about so many things. The red-headed Nobody, however, was the one who did not lie to her. Marluxia and Larxene succeeded crushing the girl's hopes as a day to day basis while Axel would stand aside, taking it all in. Inwardly, she prayed that maybe one day he would actually talk to her like a real person. The others treated her like what she was: Nobody.
"Tonight, however. Come, let us leave our little witch to her useless thoughts," Marluxia glanced back at the girl who was cowering from the glares of the man and woman who haunted her each day. A familiar, tedious glint was seen in his crystal blue orbs as he was engulfed in the black mist of the portal as Larxene shot the girl a glare and vanished as well. Vigilantly watching the vacancy of the room, she waited for a few passing moments before leaping out of her chair, running over to the couch clumsily. After all, she was a frail little person. Of course she should stumble; she was weak.
Halting herself at the same couch that she had used to hide her precious picture, she lifted up the cushion, discovering the piece of paper lying face down under the shaped pillow. Gently, she used her other free hand to grasp onto the edge of the picture, letting the cushion drop down to its original position. Turning the drawing so that she could see the image, she smiled, sitting down on the couch as she gazed adoringly at the man in the picture.
It was Axel, leaning against the white column with his arms crossed as he kept his eyes glued to the floor.
A sweet sigh exhaled as she cradled the picture to her breast, closing her eyes and letting her eyelashes meet her cheeks. Only a few hours left before he would come for his turn to watch her. Only a few more hours until she would be happy. But she was happy, staring at the picture that she worked so hard on. Then, she gasped.
Happy? What was this in the depths of her chest? She could feel warmth…She was happy. She felt the happiness. But that was impossible, according to the rest of the Organization. Though, did they really know that a Nobody could not feel? They had not a heart, no, but if only they allowed their emotions to show, they could easily call them 'feelings'.
The sudden sound of air hissing rapidly shocked her from her wonderings as she hid the picture behind her back with one of her hands. Who could be…?
Seeing the man made her shiver once again that day.
Marluxia stood there, just a couple of inches away from her, towering over her, making her feel smaller. The expression on his face was not at all pleasurable. In fact, it was rather dreadful as she stared back up at him with a quivering lip.
"What are you hiding from me?" he asked in monotone. She knew that it meant she crossed the line.
"N-nothing!" she replied, almost loudly as she felt the paper behind her back with her hidden hand.
"Don't lie to me, Naminè. I saw you. Hand over the picture," he demanded crossly, offering out his strong hand, piercing daggers with his evil eyes. Stubbornly, she shook her head, causing her dully colored blonde hair to cover her pretty face.
"No."
"What?" Marluxia snapped, making her flinch.
"I won't. It's my picture. You can't have it…" she dared to mutter under her hot, unsteady breath. She whimpered when he violently grabbed her arm and yanked her from the couch, releasing her as she fell to the ground, her cheek meeting the hard, cold marble. She held back a sob as she hid her face in shame and trembled.
"What…is this?" she heard his angry voice demand as she moaned in pain. Slowly, she glared up at him through eyes that were brimmed with glistening tears. Marluxia looked down at the picture in disgust.
"You think you have feelings for him? You can't, little Naminè. You can't feel. You're a Nobody," he derided at her in mock sympathy, "You can never love. You can never feel."
"P-p-please…" she murmured.
Marluxia ignored her pleading eyes and grasped onto the picture as he tore it in half. Placing together the two pieces of paper, he shredded the paper again, and again, making each time more agonizing than the last. Shutting her eyes fiercely, Naminè lay on the floor as she heard her once perfect picture being destroyed in the hands of her enemy.
"Get up," his cold voice reached her ears, yet he sounded so distant, even with his closeness. Obeying his orders, she let out another whimper as she rose from her current place, keeping her blue eyes on the floor. Even without her seeing, she could tell that her picture was now ruined. The one picture she had so much pride and care in…it was gone. The remains resting in the palm of his hand as he conjured up a spell, allowing the remnants disintegrating in black dust.
Naminè gasped as Marluxia took a strong hold of her hair, forcing her face up to look at him. Never had she felt so much fear, so much hate. It wasn't the first time he ripped a picture of hers apart. She drew a picture of a dog once, and he found her smiling at it. But never did she feel this enraged and broken before. Never did she see his infuriation in his clear, blue eyes, like she was gazing at now. And now she was being broken.
He pulled her hair up so forcibly, she let out a strangled cry. She didn't even see his other hand raise up, preparing for the blow. He almost slapped her, almost, but he stopped himself, seeing the fear in her eyes, staring up at him, unblinking. Instead, he clenched his hand into a fist and brought it down upon her right eye, making her yelp in pain. He took a step back and released his grasp.
"Go cry, beg for forgiveness. You'll never get it," Marluxia retorted, disappearing in the portal that swallowed him. Breaking down in tears, the girl collapsed to her knees, the impact causing her to double over on the floor, bringing her hand up to treat her bruised eye.
Sobs tore through her chest as she tried to gulp for air, trying to breathe. But the harsh, roughness of her throat was too painful. She felt useless, and pitiful, and deserving to die. There was no hope anymore. Her secret would be out, Axle would hate her, if he could, and she would be treated unfairly by Marluxia. There next meeting wouldn't be pleasant at all. In fact, quite the opposite.
::§::
Hours passed by quickly. Burying her tear soaked face in her tiny hands, Naminè continued to sob uncontrollably as she sat in the white chair that she grew so accustomed to. How could she be so ignorant? Of course she could not feel. She was stupid to believe so in the first place.
Wanting at least a little comfort, she suddenly felt all alone in the darkness, even though the room was so bright. It was, indeed, sickening to her. Marluxia was much more evil than she thought. To think that he would be mad over a picture was strange. It was her picture. Her dreams were now broken. There was no way she would be free now. Even if she tormented Sora's memories, she would still be locked in the castle of oblivion for the rest of her life.
Why? Why did her life have to be so hard?
What did she do to deserve this punishment and horrifying torment and despair?
She did not know.
Preoccupied with her 'useless' thoughts, Naminè could not hear the portal opening at the other end of the room through her pitiful cries. Rocking herself softly, she allowed more salty tears to fall through the gaps of her fingers and down on her white dress, letting small, tiny stains appear on the soft fabric.
"What's wrong, Naminè?" she heard his voice ask quietly in a confused manner. She could not say she blamed him for being nosy as to why she was crying so dramatically. After all, perhaps he did care. Yet, they always treated her like that…Deceiving her. They would seem nice at first, but the next moment would be won over by cruelty. Exclaiming in a hushed tone, she shot her head up, meeting his jade eyes, which were not that far from her. In fact, he was standing right beside her.
His eyes reminded her often of emeralds, which were her favorite jewel. His hair was like fire, which was rather interesting for he was the wielder of flames. Her eyes were like sapphires, yet with an aqua marine tint to it. They glistened with fresh, pure tears as she stared at him, begging for attention.
Her cheeks blazed, for she found herself blushing from gazing at him for too long. Ashamed at her naivety, Naminè returned to her mourning with her hands in her lap, grateful that her bangs were covering her black eye.
"M-m-mmm…" she couldn't pronounce the words clearly.
"I heard Marluxia was pissed off. Tore up one of your pictures, did he?" Axel informed bluntly. Gasping, the young girl glimpsed back up at him before breaking down in sobs again.
"Hey, don't cry. Marluxia can be a real gay bitch at times, you know?" he scratched the back of his head as he glanced at her crying form on the chair. But there was silence following.
Then a hiccup was heard.
Raising her hand to her mouth, Naminè let a small, light snigger out.
"Ah, the damsel in distress smiles!" Axel teased.
To her, Axel was like a kindling fire, warm and comforting. Yet at times he would be provoked, which would make him like a flaming pyro. At times, she could just feel the warmth from him as he would walk by when he was in deep thought. This time he was kneeling beside her chair, making the situation more intense.
"I'll tell you what, how about you draw the picture again?" he offered as he stood up straight, gazing down at her. Craning her neck up at him, Naminè rubbed her hands together.
"I-I don't…know…" she let her small voice trail off as she bore her eyes at the column in front of her.
"Marluxia doesn't have to know. What he doesn't know, doesn't hurt him, right?" he let a coy smile play across his lips. Naminè tittered again, feeling the pain from the previous event subsiding. Reaching down to the floor, she picked up her sketch book.
"I guess…but where can I hide it?" she piped unexpectedly.
"Well, I could keep it for you," Axel rubbed his chin. Nervously, she twiddled her long, slender fingers.
"Unless it's a secret picture that I shouldn't see," he cocked an eyebrow and smirked. His steady voice was smooth and mischievous, though she enjoyed every word he spoke. Succumbing to his generosity, which, actually, was rare, Naminè let a tiny smile grace her lips, letting the corners of her rosy mouth rise. Her azure orbs sparkled with pleasant, newfound joy. She nodded simply, watching Axel smirk at her again before he turned away.
Wavering uncertainty was still lingering through her veins as she examined her colored pencils. She still needed the red pencil.
"Uh…uh…" she trembled in fear of annoying the red-headed Nobody. Slyly, he turned back to face her.
"What's wrong now?"
"…"
"Come on, what is it?"
Should she ask? Maybe he wouldn't know for now. Sooner or later he'll discover her secret picture, as well as her thoughts. Might as well…
"I need a red pencil. Mine broke earlier this morning."
"Oh," he hesitated before thinking about it as he tapped his boot.
"I'll be right back," he reassured as he walked off to a certain part of the room and receding into the portal he conjured up. With another one of her sighs, Naminè dropped her gaze to the sketchpad, picking out a black pencil from the bundle of drawing instruments withheld in her other hand. She would have started on her picture, yes, but she wanted to wait for him to come back.
She wanted him in the same room as her. She was cold...
He was the heat, and she was the cold. He was the flame and she was the snow. He was the summer and she was the winter. Together, they created pleasing warmth. Together, they made spring. And spring, as other people knew, was the most wonderful season of all. Warmth was far better than heat alone, or cold alone. If only her dreams could come true…
Soon, she acknowledged, Axel would find out about her secret picture. But she had no decision, really. She wanted to draw the picture and keep it hidden from Marluxia. She could trust him, though, right? He was the only one who called her by her name only. He didn't call her 'little witch'. At least, not to her face. He didn't call her a 'conniving bitch', like Larxene would. At least, not in front of her. In truth, the only reason she…admired him, was because in person, he was rather nice to be around.
The only problem was that she could not love.
With the intake of a breath, Naminè heard the portal appear again. Through searching eyes, she noticed Axel standing away from her with a long, red colored pencil in-between his index finger and thumb.
"Here you are, miss, just what you ordered," he grinned as he made his way over to her, handing out his hand with the pencil. Anxiously, she made a loose fist before reaching out with a free hand towards him. Their fingertips scarcely brushed against each other as she accepted the 'gift'. Feeling a shocking heat against her freezing skin, even though he was wearing leather gloves, Naminè pulled back hastily, merely nodding her gratefulness.
"You're quite welcome," he remarked playfully, causing her to blush again.
"…"
Naminè switched her full attention to her drawing, eventually dragging her eyes upwards to sneak a glance of the man she was sketching. Her eyes met his, for he was staring at her mysteriously. Biting her lip, she hurriedly looked back at her drawing and drew strokes of black for the leather overcoat that each member of the Organization had to wear.
Now completed with the outfit, she began working on the detail for his appearance, and the shocking red hair. Cautiously, she slowly gazed up from her drawing again, catching the man staring at her again. Axel was standing right in front of her, leaning against that column she had to see every day. Why was he looking at her with that interested gleam in his eyes? Possibly curious as to what she was drawing a picture of and why she cherished it so. Yes, exactly. Seemingly bored, Axel let out a slow sigh as he glanced away, eyes meeting the giant, clear orb in the center of the room.
Nibbling on her nail, the young girl fluttered her long, silky lashes as she examined the picture for any flaws, just like how she did at the beginning of that day. The sound of the huge white door opening made her jump in her skin, drawing her away from the focus of the picture. Axel was not affected as he merely watched Larxene proudly stepping inside the room.
This was the end, Naminè just knew it. Larxene would soon find out about her picture as well, and her fancying Axel was definitely not a pleasantry.
"Aha, there you are. Marluxia wants you to meet him down at the first level tonight. Sora will be arriving soon for our little witch," Larxene questionably raised an eyebrow as she met the small girl's gaze as she strolled by her chair, trying to catch a glimpse of the picture she was hiding.
"That, you mean, by later tonight. Not now," Axel chided casually as possible, making his appearance more suspicious. Larxene stopped right in front of him.
"I'm just giving you a warning," she responded frankly.
"All right," Axel closed his eyes as he leaned against the column again.
"How's our little manipulative witch, by the way?" Larxene threw Naminè a deathly glare over her shoulder.
"Just fine. Doesn't Marluxia's scythe need sharpening?" Axel queried as he raised one of his eyelids open.
"Yeah, why?" Larxene furrowed her eyebrows and let out a low growl. Bemused, the tall man let out a 'hm' and stared at her with a meaningfully expression.
"I am not doing it this time! It's your turn!" Larxene whined as she stomped her foot. The little witch watched her fascinatingly, taking in a new mood of hers that had just been revealed in front of her for the first time.
"I'm not doing it. I have to watch Naminè," Axel shrugged simply as he made a hand gesture towards the person in question.
"I can take this turn for you."
"I'd rather you not. I can't be slacking off from my job, now can I?"
With a quirk of a furtive grin, Larxene scoffed, letting a moment pass in silence. A crafty glint came into her eyes as she gradually stepped up to Axel, closing in the space between them. Twirling one of the drawstrings of his hood with her index finger, she gave him a brief nod.
"Of course not," she purred. Unaware of her emotions, Naminè barely shook in anger as she watched the event take place before her eyes. Thank whatever gods there were out there that Larxene did not catch the hateful look etched across the girl's fair face. The anger was clearly visible through her blue eyes as they just caught Axel's emerald eyes for a quick spilt second.
That desire in Larxene's features was only lust. She thought it necessary to flirt with every member of the Organization, especially with her being the only female in the group. Unfortunately, her target was the very man who was in Naminè's dreams.
Catching that barely visible sign of rage in the girl's huge, watery orbs, Axel rolled his eyes at Larxene, swiping away at her hand.
"Slacking off as in 'flirting' as well, Larxene," he heaved a sigh as he shifted uncomfortably from the closeness of the blonde woman.
Perceiving the sight in front of her, Naminè remained silent as she finished her drawing. She heard the older woman scold the man before sauntering off pass the artist and evaporating in the appearing portal. Swallowing hard, the teenager peered over the edge of the top of her book and meeting Axel's gaze again. He broke the eye lock, waiting for his shift to end.
If only he truly wanted to be there. She knew that he just made an excuse to continue his time to watch her because he did not want the job of slaving away over Marluxia's prized weapon.
She could tell he was only acting nice to her.
It was all part of that scheme to trick her into their webs of lies and fake trust.
If only they had hearts…
A sudden idea erupted in the back of mind as she completed her picture by a few scratching noises of the lead of the pencil. Carefully, she pushed some stray strands of hair from her face, tucking them away behind her ear so that she could see the picture better.
"What happened to your eye?" his voice sounded alarmed, which made her surprised. She had forgotten about the throbbing pain around her eye. She had let her cover down. Letting out a gasp, she pushed some of her hair in her face and placed her hands across her picture to hide it.
"Nothing…"
"It looks like nothing," Axel repeated sarcastically before stepping forward, not even the slightest bit hesitant. "May I see it?"
"No," she put in stubbornly. "It's fine." She kept her head bowed low, keeping her chin down. But she felt a strong finger fish underneath her chin and lifting it up very gently. She made herself shift her eyes to his, catching the worry in his sea green orbs. With his other hand, he raised it to her cheek with caution, sweeping her hair from her face so that he may examine her bruise. He stopped, boring his eyes into hers, seeing the black and purple coloring surrounding that glittering eye of hers. Her perfect eyes were stained with the bruise.
She felt her breathing cease as he carefully touched the skin underneath her eye with his thumb, feeling the tenderness. She detected the warmth of his touch and let her breathing continue.
"How the hell did you get that?" Axel did not even really ask, but more like demanded, which was understandable under the certain circumstances. Taking in a sharp inhale, Naminè bit her lip, breaking the stare and glancing down, now more focused on keeping her picture hidden by her arms. For a long moment it was like that, with her staring down at her sketch book with his hands remaining at their current position.
"It's not important," she stammered, glancing back up into his eyes. She could tell he was not buying it, but he stepped back anyway and removing his hands, with her missing his warmth. She wished she could tell him, but if she did, she might be punished. Worse was that Axel might not even believe her.
Axel went back to leaning against the column in front of Naminè while waiting for her to finish, though he did not know that she was completed until watching her for a few more minutes of her sitting there, doing absolutely nothing.
"Are you finished yet, Naminè?" the Nobody watching her listlessly inquired. Feeling a tremor run through her spine, she concurred.
"Can I see it before I hide it?" he provoked lightly as he crossed his arms over his chest and took a step forward. Biting her lip, Naminè shook her head. She knew that he would tease her if he knew about it. She would like it very much if he would hide it for her, but for him to see it? Never. Her secret would be out. Though Marluxia already knew. He probably did not tell Axel, for it didn't seem as if he knew about it…just the picture's fate. And Axel possibly knew about Marluxia's earlier actions from the black eye the girl had now.
"Why not? Is it embarrassing?" Yes, it is…to me, it is…
"Um…I, uh..."
"How about we make a deal?" the red-headed Number VIII proposed arrogantly as he neared Naminè's small, cowering form.
"Deal?" she quipped, staring up at him through sparkling azure jewels. An impish smile spread across his face as he bobbed his head.
"Yeah, how about I hide the picture if you let me see it first?"
To her, that was not entirely fair, but she needed to cease being selfish. What harm could it do? But the little detail she added would make him suspicious and curious as to why she included it.
"Unless you promise not to tease me about it," she pleaded desperately, which caught the other Nobody by surprise.
"Sure, I guess," he rubbed his chin with skepticism.
The young girl pulled the sketch book away from her body, staring at the picture with loving eyes. Once again, she was wrong. She could not love, so how could she lovingly gaze at her picture? She would like to think it was possible. With a smidgen of a smile, she tore the paper from the book and set it down on the floor next to her sandaled feet, delicately grasping onto her treasured picture.
Knowing that she would not hand it over to him willingly, Axel made a quick decision to approach her from behind. Walking around her chair, he made his way to face her backside.
Naminè shivered when she felt him come from behind her. As he leaned over her shoulder, she felt his hot breath tease her creamy skin, causing her to tremble even more from fear of his closeness. Together they stared at the piece of paper decorated with figments of colors. It was just like the original, except for one or two differences. First of all, Axel was smiling. The next…
There was a scribble of red on the left side of him.
"What is that?" he asked with an edge to his voice, reaching an arm over her shoulder and pointing at the little red scribble. Naminè breathed in, taking in his warmth.
"It's a heart."
::The End::
Happy Valentine's Day! By the way, Naminè and Axel fan art is the best.
Speaking of fan art, click on my homepage button if you have time.
Review, please, and flames will be used for Axel to enjoy.