I love MarluxiaXLarxene as much as I love Larxene alone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or Marly or Larxy. If ever I do, one day, remind me to glomp Cloud. I also don't own the song I'm using, Just the Girl by the Click Five.

Note: Some words to watch out for…

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O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

She's cold and she's cruel
But she knows what she's doin'

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

I once thought that blond baby faced bitches with antennas were easy to talk to.

I was wondering if she enjoyed talking about apples and how they have inappropriate colors. I resisted the urge to ask if she liked talking about how cats mate, if they claw at each other or do it real slow. No matter how perverted or semi-sweet the topic that popped into my head was (or at least I thought it'd be), she'd just reply once in the same way:

"For the love of God, Marluxia, get something decent to talk about."

Decent, she says. Boasting about how much blood she has spilled or how many asses she has kicked in her puny lifetime is what she calls a decent conversation. Still, when she talks about how deep her kunai can penetrate (I always get a thought at this), it's as if she's talking about tea and cookies and how overstuffed teddy bears should be. Yes, even the most morbid of subjects can become rather sugary when the words creep out of her.

On the day she spent half of the time talking to me about rust and thunderstorms, I realized that girls weren't that bad.

But she's probably part of the five percent who are pure evil. At least in a good way.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

She pushed me in the pool
At our last school reunion

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

I can't count how many times she has called me gay. Or a faggot. I told her it wasn't right for her to say such words, especially to someone superior to her. She just kept hushed.

A murmur out of me ends up with a bat of the head from her. I'd always complain of how she ruins my hair afterwards. Once or twice, she has tripped me in the middle of a mock battle with one of the Organization's members. Usually with Axel. How I hate that bastard when he laughs at me. And she'd rather see my face dapple in agony whenever she does a sharpshooter on me than watch me smile at my reflection in the mirror.

She gets this need (or more like want) to hit me real hard whenever I smile. At her or at anything, for that matter. Perhaps it's because the sight of a smile irks her. Or maybe there's something between my teeth and she's subtly telling me to go pluck it out with my scythe. Still, she just hits me a lot, whether I smile or not. And I get this nagging feeling that she likes it, sometimes. When I smile, that is. I am, after all, irresistible in a way.

I'm pretty delusional.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

She laughs at my dreams
But I dream about her laughter
Strange as it seems
She's the one I'm after

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

It's not easy to get some sleep in the castle. Larxene snores.

So, one night, I bothered her in the middle of the night. When I shook her awake, she called me a bitch. And when her round eyes were back to looking back at mine (How I wished they always were ready for that), I straightened myself out as I questioned her reluctantly, "What do you dream of that you don't want to be bothered so badly?"

I could see that she wanted to snort at my query. But I predicted that she'd be too groggy to even think of being sardonic at this time of the night. Maybe at seven, she would be, but not at two in the morning. "I don't really try to remember what I dream of at this hour." She replied, and I wonder if she's honest, "It wouldn't matter if it's not real, now, would it?"

Before she pulled the blanket over her head once again, she shot the question back at me with a twist in it, "How about you? What do your nightmares have for you?" How she calls 'dreams' 'nightmares' almost respectively made me chuckle. I didn't do so that much so that her chances of her finding a reason to slap or punch me wouldn't even come.

"I dream of," I decided to answer her frankly, hoping she'd one day do the same for me, "becoming the superior of this organization one day. You know that, Larxene."

Well, she didn't hit me. Halleluiah. But I never thought that she'd choke and cry from laughing too much. "We may in this together, but I'm sure that I'll beat you to the top before you even make a move." She joked, laughing alone.

I wasn't trying to be funny, too. I was tempted to run my scythe's tip down her body for that comment. Seeing her fall back onto her bunk in laughter, though, gave me a good night's sleep.

I never told her of my dream to one day call her my Larxy.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

Cause she's bittersweet
She knocks me off of my feet
And I can't help myself
I don't want anyone else

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

The library is her sanctuary, I'm guessing. She spends a lot of time there. I will never know, though, if it's because she likes to read or because she knows I'm not such a fan of words on paper. Whenever she does go to the library, I make sure to sneak a peek sometimes, to see her taste in those awful literary materials.

I had glanced at the romance novels and found them totally untouched. Not even a fingerprint was left on them, even. I felt my throat crumple up. What the hell does she like reading so much in here that she wastes her time here rather than with me? On one of the tables, she had her elbows propped, cushioning her head. Whatever she was reading, she sure wished she'd be in the book rather than in the castle.

If that's so, she'd probably reading something by Stephen King. Or worst. I wonder if I should open one of those books myself.

"Larxene," I disturbed her one time, and I saw in her glare that she wanted me to make it quick, "What, exactly, are you reading?"

She crinkled her nose and shoved it back into the depths of the book. Bloodshot eyes ran through the pages, and I was now assuming that she was reading the rising action. If it were the climax that she was reading, she'd murder me for interrupting. "What's it to you?" she growled, not even looking at me in the eyes.

I picked up a copy on her stack, anyway, and almost threw up when I saw the title. The author of the novel she was reading was the man who invented the word sadism. How can her stomach cope with this piece? "You mocking my books?" she mumbled through the book jacket. I could feel her thunderclaps sizzling through the back of her head.

Surely, I knew my gut was picturing the vicious plot cuts of the story, whatever it may be about. And to think she looks like some lovesick fool whenever she reads these rejects. "How could you read these things?" I blurt out without thinking (of my health and safety), "Wouldn't a Le Amore book appeal to you better?"

In the library, I bled. Real bad. Truly, she knocked me off of my feet quite literally. And she vowed never to call me her 'library buddy' as long as she's sane. I was wondering if cold compress would help me now crooked nose.

Such a beautiful sadist, she is.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

She's a mystery
She's too much for me
But I keep comin' back for more
She's just the girl I'm lookin' for

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

Yesterday, she called me immature. I didn't think she would. I thought girls liked getting picked on.

"I'll rip your mouth off of your jaw if you don't shut up, Marluxia," she warned me, waving her knives in my face, "Stop being so immature, too. It doesn't fit you at all." She retrieved her knives from my face's distance and went back on the couch with one of her bloodbath books in her hand. When her head touched the couch arm, she had landed in another world.

My pout popped up, surprising me. I never pout in such a juvenile manner. "That wasn't immature," I defended myself, but I knew I was losing such a debate, "That was simply being…" I paused, leafing through my vocabulary for the correct term. She'd know the word that I was looking for, but what a shame it is for my pride to have her name myself in my behalf. "It's being supportive. You are my partner." I concluded.

"Supportive?" she mumbled, looking at me from behind her book, "Supportive? You were mocking me. How is that supportive?"

I shook my head, trying to seem innocent. I was failing. Wasn't it that she mocks me everyday and I try to keep myself from cutting her up? Why do I even allow her to drown me in shame? "No, I wasn't."

"Ridiculing me." She roared, putting down the book for once.

I again shook my head in a tiny gesture. "I wasn't."

"Jeering me! Teasing me! Pulling my leg! Ribbing me! Kidding me! Laughing at me!" She shrieked continuously, making me shrink back a little. So there is a benefit from all those book-reading she does: A wider selection of words. "Have I said the proper word you were looking for yet?!" she asked in a fury, scowling at me like she had just lost something heavier than her dignity.

I just nodded. All a man can do after such a battle is to walk away. In defeat, I show humility. In giving up, I show cowardice. In just nodding to Larxene, I show both.

Girls sure have a colorful vocabulary. And they don't like being teased about how they gave Axel a flirtatious giggle.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

She can't keep a secret
For more than an hour
She runs on 100 proof attitude power

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

Word about the contents of my underwear drawer and medicine cabinet flew around. I was wondering how everyone found out. But not for long.

"I found them lying around for goodness-knows-who to see." Larxene explained, not even taking my issue seriously, "Why shouldn't I mind it? Was it my fault that you were careless enough to leave your dainties in the sun like a plant for basking? Was it my fault that you always leave your medicine cabinet open?"

My face felt flustered. I never leave my medicine cabinet open. But the court will never believe me. She said, "Besides, I just told Axel. See, you can trust Axel with your dirty, little secrets, can you? Of course you can." She put on her squeamish voice, making me just agree. I never trusted Axel, to begin with, but whenever she says that I can, I suddenly see eye to eye with her. Damn voice.

"But," I tried to fight for my right to have a respected privacy, "Larxene, Axel told everyone about my underwear." No one talks about my underwear and gets away with it.

She shrugged. "I know. I helped."

My eyes were going to back to the far corners of my head. "Larxene," her name was a snake in my tongue, "everyone knows that I have… a you-know-what in my medicine cabinet now." I grinned sheepishly. "That's a bad thing. It'll ruin me, damn you."

She gave me a thoughtful look. For a minute, I thought she pitied me and regretted what she had done. I was probably wrong. "Everyone knows you have a what in your medicine cabinet?" To my horror, she wants to hear it out of me. I knew this was coming. I played with hand signs and body language (I think even my hair was trying to speak) to point it out.

All Larxene did was squeeze her lips in a tightened and minute smirk. Sly bitch.

I rolled my eyes and said it straight without a care for any longer, "Larxene, everyone in the castle knows I have a condom in my medicine cabinet!" Once it was out, I fumed, trying not to crease my forehead too much so that I wouldn't leave marks. I could feel her giggles building up in her larynx. But, unexpectedly, I felt a hand, patting me on my back. It was hers, telling from the softness (which is a result of nightly moisturizing).

"It's not a bad thing, Marluxia," she told me, eyeing me intently, "At least everyone knows that you're a responsible guy, no matter what your intentions would be." And there, a mischievous beam crawled up her face. For a second there, I could feel our cheeks blush together. But girls do that a lot, anyway. I was blushing because I could read her mind, with all her ideas and fantasies. Hopefully, she couldn't read mine.

Then, as swiftly as it got there, her beam was toppled into a frown that raised the hairs on my arms. "Marluxia, I am going to mutilate you and dissect every organ in your body if you ever, ever get any stupid ideas or do anything with those rubber tubes in your cabinet that involves me. Mark my words." I just smirked.

It intrigued me, though, of how she still hasn't mutilated me…

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

And the more she ignores me
The more I adore her
What can I do?
I'd do anything for her

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

Someone told me that girls liked flowers.

I walked into the library, in search of her, like a husband home from work. My scythe still stunk of rose petals and my cloak was drenched in the foul breath of daisies. Why is it that my attribute isn't manly in its way? Still, I was satisfied of what I could do, one way or another.

Her eyes were still glued onto the nth page of a nameless horror paperback, racing through sentences and paragraphs. She matches a young and curious boy who has found the queen ant and is indecisive of whether to keep it or not. Trying to rub the smug grin off of my face, I paced towards her. Marluxia the smooth operator…

I took my place behind her, getting a glimpse of the page she's on. Although, after I read a phrase with the words lacerate and thin threads of skin, I concluded that I'd be ready in another time. Any time but now. "Say, you don't have a bookmark, don't you?" I said out of nowhere, not really listening to what I was telling her. She was too engrossed in her cruel fiction, anyway.

Smugly, I produced a rose from my pocket. I leaned towards her book and demonstrated, "Look, if you press it between the pages, it'll serve as a good bookmark, right?" I wedged the spick stem of the blossom between pages 122 and 123, then closed her book, showing the crown of petals, risen from the pages. I waited for her response. It was the most charming rose in my reach. She'd like it, no doubt about it.

But, eventually, she snatched the novel from my hands, slid the rose from the pages and tossed it absentmindedly off the tabletop. "I don't need a bookmark," she told me, going back to her reading.

And I simply gazed down at the rejected rose up, gave it a good look and wondered. Didn't she like it? I merely shrugged. I felt like I didn't have time for this now. I still have a bath to take. So, I made my way from her table, towards the door of the library. My chest was more than tight, and I doubted that it was the gust from a broken heart. I just… needed a warm bath.

Nevertheless, before I left, I turned around to give a second look. She had picked up the rose. It was in her hair…

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

The way she sees it's me
On her caller ID
She won't pick up the phone
She'd rather be alone

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

The door slammed shut. Her gasps echoed throughout the room. I was sure women didn't like getting tired.

"What happened?" I passively asked, assuming that she just got into a battle with that Sora toy she speaks of. I always get jealous of that rat, since she makes a mockery out of him rather than admiring my cheekbones. Yes, she has started to do that, indeed…

She ran her palms through the surface of her locks and explained, "Oh, nothing. Just that kid again. I finally decided to fight him again. Just to taunt the little squirt to mover faster. That Namine girl isn't going to last forever, I'll tell you." She cracked her knuckles and chortled in amusement, "Gave that kid a good warm-up, I'll say."

I turned to her from the mirror as I put down my brush. "When will you get to him again?"

She shrugged her shrug again, making me quirk up a simper as she does. It makes her appear more pleasing when she does that. She's not such a sight for sore eyes with those glimmering beads of sweat rolling seductively down her neck, past her shoulder blades… "I'd face him any time, for all I care. He's got some spirit, but not enough to beat me up that hard." She brags of how her defeat was actually a ceasefire sort of thing.

I nodded, empathizing her. It was a daily feeling for me, vex. She vexed me. Our superiors, most especially. Her being a displeasure to me, though, is something I don't mind that much. "Shall I come with you next time?" I offered, hoping she'd need some support or a helping hand. If I were to fight with her, I'd seem stronger. Now, wouldn't that be enjoyable? For me, that is.

But she only let out a muffled "Hmph" and grumbled at me as she headed for the library, "I'll fight that little shrimp alone. Don't underestimate me, Marluxia." And there, she proceeded to her favorite section: The Horror and Macabre Literature section.

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

But I can't give up just yet
Cause every word she's ever said
Is still ringin' in my head
Still ringin' in my head

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

She pointed a firm finger at me, poking at my chest in gestating anger, "You have done nothing but lie around this place and tell me how beautiful you are, you gender-bent asshole!" Larxene's eyes were boiling with what I feared the most, "Now, if you're not going to get your lazy touché off of that chair, I will make sure that once we've overthrown this fucking orgy, I am going to shove every petal in your body down your throat."

Her sarcastic and somewhat demanding tone remained, but the lightning in her syllables sent me off to do something useful. And to think I only told her that her butt had gotten larger than before.

So, girls also don't like being called 'ass-heavy', too, huh?

O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O.o.O

I'm lookin' for
I'm lookin' for
I'm lookin' for
Just the girl I'm lookin' for

v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v.V.v

I could hear her equipping herself with kunais. "Off to go meet that Sora boy again?" I exclaimed as I watched her smoothen out her cloak. I was getting tired of her sudden hunger for battles. And I was getting pretty much sick of my hunger for her.

This time was different, though. Instead of just raising her brows in acknowledgement before leaving me again, she spoke politely and almost sweetly (Oddly minus the growl in the end of her sentences and the snare in her tone), "Yes, you got that right." She turned to me with her neat features and held her stare, making it elegant. I was in hypnosis at that point. "Marluxia, do you want to come along?"

My head perked up at the offer. "Really?" It wasn't like me to find glee in such, but I could feel my heart in my mouth, pounding on my teeth and lips. She simply nodded and waited for me to stand up and prepare with my scythe. Once I did, she twisted her lips into a smile. Not a sadistic one, to my shock. Not a teasing one, either, or a mischievous one. It was just… well, a smile.

"By the way," I murmured before we left, "I am not going to fight by you. I'll just be there to… back-up when you lose. I have my pride."

She chuckled confidently, crossing her arms across her chest, "Me? Lose? It's like saying you'll lose, too. It's impossible." Still, she had something else to say, "But, thank you, Marluxia."

And finally, we were engulfed in the dark arms we are forever in synch with. This time, I proceeded to take her by the hand, as if I'd lose her in the journey out. Miraculously, she didn't strike me for it. She… just held my hand back. Snug and tight. She seemed like she wouldn't let go for anything at all.

I never thought that I'd be the first and last time that I'd be able to do that with Larxene. Because after her battle with Sora, I never saw her again.

... Just when I started to understand girls and the consequences of this heartless and empty feeling ridiculously named love.