KINGDOM HEARTS | calendar girl {zexion/naminé}
TITLE. calendar girl.
FANDOM. Kingdom Hearts.
PAIRING. Zexion/Naminé.
PROMPT. "anniversary." -- kitsune_rin
RATING. K.
NOTES. Continuation of this!!
It’d been three hundred and sixty-five days since the one with the blank face and the motor-mouth had pulled her out of the rabbit hole and into a cage instead. She hadn’t stopped drawing since the day he’d brought her to her room. A crayon stroke, a paint splatter; red in her hair, blue on her cheeks, she knew who she was trying to replace, knew who she was trying to be.
She was Naminé, the witch girl, the girl at the top of the tower who never got away. The one you never talked about.
Today, Zexion was watching her, something he hardly ever did. She saw him the halls, sometimes, but mostly only when they were in the library together. She liked the books on art. He always made her put them back exactly how she’d found them.
When he sat down next to her, instead of across like him and all the others usually did, she looked up at him and blinked. He blinked back. “If you try anything, how am I supposed to stop you when I’m all the way over there?”
She bit her lip and went back to her drawing. She was in the middle of shading the ground when he went, “You’ve been here a year, haven’t you.”
It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes,” her fingers scraped over her sketchpad. They were smudged with color. “Yes, I have.”
When he didn’t say anything, she picked up another crayon. He stopped her. “My hair’s not blue.”
She smiled. “No,” she replied, ignoring the shiver that ran through her as his fingers closed around her wrist gently. “But the singing flowers were.”
FANDOM. Kingdom Hearts.
PAIRING. Zexion/Naminé.
PROMPT. "anniversary." -- kitsune_rin
RATING. K.
NOTES. Continuation of this!!
It’d been three hundred and sixty-five days since the one with the blank face and the motor-mouth had pulled her out of the rabbit hole and into a cage instead. She hadn’t stopped drawing since the day he’d brought her to her room. A crayon stroke, a paint splatter; red in her hair, blue on her cheeks, she knew who she was trying to replace, knew who she was trying to be.
She was Naminé, the witch girl, the girl at the top of the tower who never got away. The one you never talked about.
Today, Zexion was watching her, something he hardly ever did. She saw him the halls, sometimes, but mostly only when they were in the library together. She liked the books on art. He always made her put them back exactly how she’d found them.
When he sat down next to her, instead of across like him and all the others usually did, she looked up at him and blinked. He blinked back. “If you try anything, how am I supposed to stop you when I’m all the way over there?”
She bit her lip and went back to her drawing. She was in the middle of shading the ground when he went, “You’ve been here a year, haven’t you.”
It wasn’t really a question, but she answered anyway. “Yes,” her fingers scraped over her sketchpad. They were smudged with color. “Yes, I have.”
When he didn’t say anything, she picked up another crayon. He stopped her. “My hair’s not blue.”
She smiled. “No,” she replied, ignoring the shiver that ran through her as his fingers closed around her wrist gently. “But the singing flowers were.”