Summary: In which Zexion wants to be alone and Demyx won't let him be.
Genre: General/Humour
Rating: K
Characters: Zexion, Demyx.

A/N: This little gem of mediocre literature has been lingering in my documents for a fair while, gathering cyber dust, and so I thought it deserved to be let off the leash - at last. Please, don't expect good quality writing in the space below! It's a fifteen minute job, but so fun to write, anyway.

Warnings: More fluff than a Jigglypuff could handle.

Following several hours of futile attempts to seek refuge from the communal insanity of his fellow Organisation members, particularly the accustomed juvenile antics of Demyx (and how one with no heart could possess such a persona, he would never know), Zexion had stumbled upon perhaps a five minute crevice in time in which to relish in the seldom offered solitude of the castle - in any particular structure, even one so bold as to be called a castle, a total of twelve other residence pushed his social boundaries to extremes - when the peace was oh-so delicately shattered by the crashing of a door into its adjoining wall.

"Want some company?"

Zexion sought no will to look up. "No."

Demyx shrugged off the hostility in a very c'est la vie manner. He stood in the doorway of the library for several moments, lingering on the edge of Zexion's peripheral vision, seemingly with determination, honing his ability to induce exponential levels of irritation. He said, "OK," and sat down on the couch adjacent to the armchair Zexion had only minutes ago occupied, to be left alone.

Irritation firmly nestled in his stomach, Zexion lifted his eyes from the small-print passage of the book he had immediately doused any hopes of reading the moment Demyx's voice captured his attention like a screaming infant. "I said no," he said firmly, offering no room for argument.

Or so he thought.

"Your mouth said no," Demyx said pointedly, as though it made all the sense in the world, and that the words wouldn't have been appropriate leaving the lips of an incarcerated mental patient.

Zexion blinked, out of lack of an immediate response. "Do you need further confirmation of my desire to be alone?"

"You could try, but I will not be convinced."

"Leave."

Demyx jabbed a finger in his direction. Zexion very nearly expected to be scolded.

"Veto," Demyx said.

"Excuse me?"

"Veto," Demyx repeated with far less enthusiasm - exaggerated shock filled the figurative space left behind. "I vote against your proposition."

"There was no proposition," Zexion insisted with feigned amusement, wondering when this had become his life. "There was a demand-"

"Of a lonely man," was Demyx's revised ending.

Zexion sighed. He could feel his forehead forcefully magnetising towards his hand; there was a significant possibility that a migraine was forming, or perhaps an aneurysm - he couldn't completely rule it out. "Why must I suffer such lunacy?"

"I wish you knew how terribly your words hurt, Zex," Demyx sighed, leaning his cheek solemnly into his palm.

Zexion narrowed his eyes. "Zexion."

Demyx adopted a far more irritating tone in which to say, "Ok, Mr Serious," a voice equivalent of a child who had yet to discover the first length of maturity.

"Zexion," he repeated.

Demyx rolled his eyes, as though it was he who was suffering harassment throughout his (what was previously known as) alone time. "You're no fun when you're tense like this," he professed quite tiredly. "Loosen up, I'll play you something! I'll get my sitar-"

"I want to be left alone."

Demyx dismissed Zexion's incessant claims with a shake of his head, like too much negative energy attempting to clog the corners of his carefree mind. "No you don't," he said with determination. "You're crying for attention on the inside - simple psychology, my man - and I'm here to help."

Zexion wanted very badly to hit something. "I want to be-"

Demyx raised a gloved hand. "I know, I know-" he paused to use quotation marks "-you want to be alone. But you don't have to be alone, and you never will be, because I'll always be-" another pause to lean a short way forward and poke Zexion's unsuspecting torso "-in there."

Zexion's one visible eyebrow vanished into his hairline. "My chest?"

"Your heart, silly."

"You're aware that we have no hearts?"

Demyx rolled his eyes; Zexion hoped he was fainting. "Fine, then," Demyx relented. "I'll always be in your empty chest cavity."

"Go away."

Demyx's grin was nerve grating. "Nope."

"You overgrown man child - leave me alone."

"Why do you keep trying to push me away, Zex?"

"ZEXION, you ridiculous halfwit! Zexion! Demyx, I beg of you, save some other unfortunate soul from their 'loneliness' before I detach your limbs and ultimately get myself turned into a dusk, you deranged escapee lab experiment!"

"See?"

"What's this fresh madness?"

Demyx grinned with reckless abandon. "If we didn't feel, you wouldn't have gotten mad at me."

Zexion blinked. Truly, a word had yet to come into existence to define the relentless entity of pure insanity that was Demyx.

"Later, Zex."

Owari.

A/N: Such fun.