Don’t I even warrant a hello?: Despite the clear threat from Larxene, despite the ever-lingering…


Despite the clear threat from Larxene, despite the ever-lingering feeling of the cold sting of her knife to his throat, Zexion was going to throw his entire being into not going to that blasted gathering. He didn’t belong there. Nobodies didn’t belong anywhere where actual Somebodies were.


Larxene pounded on the door. “OPEN THE DAMN DOOR.” She yelled, not caring who could hear. She had her dress on and she wanted to go to the ball. But not alone. After hitting the door repeatedly for a few minutes she laughed. “Fine.” She ran to find someone’s weapons and found Axel’s. “Perfect. This will work.” She ran back and put the sharp part where the knob was and cut. She was able to cut out a small hole and she looked inside. “Zexion, you are going. Please. Get out.”


Zexion kept his eyes glued to the pages of his Lexicon, even though the loud and obnoxious bangs on his door was making it hard for him to concentrate. He was hoping that Larxene would eventually give up and move on, or maybe, just maybe, think that he wasn’t there. But she was relentless in bashing his door. At one moment in time, Zexion actually glanced up to check if it was still in once piece.

A relieved breath escaped Zexion’s mouth as he heard her say ‘Fine’. She had given up. Finally. Now he could just read in—

Nope. She was back. And sawing at her door with… something. It wasn’t long until a little hole was carved out of the door, and Larxene’s harsh green eye took up the space. Great, now she knew that he was there. Zexion closed his Lexicon, made it disappear in a wisp of darkness, and stood up, crossing his arms. “Please?” He mocked her, a small, sadistic little smirk appearing on his lips. He had found her little “please” to be quite amusing. “This girly urge of yours is annoying, Larxene.” He glowered down at her, partly crouching to peer through the tiny little hole.

She was all decked out in her dress, a shimmering green to match her eyes. It would be awfully sad for all of her beautification processes to be sent down the drain because he— no. What was he thinking? He wasn’t going. But… she had gone through the trouble of picking out a dress and mask. Would he really make an ass of himself and stand her up? Yes, I would. He thought to himself, and then turned around to sit back down on his bed. But not a few moments later, after guilt gnawed at him, he stood back up and walked back to peer at Larxene. “I am not dancing.” He spoke very clearly.