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May. 20th, 2005 05:46 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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Challenge: Masquerade
Title: A Game
Word Count: 300
Notes: Cracky Unknown pairing. For DM whom I lurve~~ Lexaeus and Zexion, a dark room, and a question of smell.
It's a sort of game they play.
It's rare that Lexaeus will win. But then again, it's rare that he will win either. The game most often has no winners, but no losers either.
He'll stand in the darkness, eyes closed as he distincts things by scent alone. Scent and taste are two senses that he has in spades, even moreso than the other members of the Organization.
Lately, or so Zexion claims, he's begun to smell emotions. Hate, fear, sorrow, despair, all dark and black emotions. He claims he can't smell good ones—not that anyone in the castle ever feels anything, save Naminé.
Lexaeus comes in through the door to find Zexion with his back turned. He approaches slowly, knowing that Zexion's eyes are closed.
There is a small sound as Zexion breathes in and identifies him by scent. "Lexaeus."
"Zexion."
There are only few rules to the game. One is that very little is said.
"What do you smell?"
Another is that Lexaeus cannot mask whatever emotion he has at the moment. Zexion has never liked masquerades, has never enjoyed the thought of playing pretty and hiding behind painted paper veils.
There is a pause here—as there always is—and Zexion replies, sounding frustrated (and maybe a bit confused), "Nothing."
It is only now that Lexaeus approaches, and, with a slight brush of his hands against Zexion's shoulders, turns the smaller man to face him.
"Do you need to smell anything?" And with that sentence and a quick motion to kiss Zexion's cheek, then brush lips against lips, Lexaeus has broken the rules.
He leaves then, Zexion watching him in stunned silence.
As the door closes, Zexion's hair moves briefly in the draft that accompanies it before settling over his face like a thin silver mask.
Title: A Game
Word Count: 300
Notes: Cracky Unknown pairing. For DM whom I lurve~~ Lexaeus and Zexion, a dark room, and a question of smell.
It's a sort of game they play.
It's rare that Lexaeus will win. But then again, it's rare that he will win either. The game most often has no winners, but no losers either.
He'll stand in the darkness, eyes closed as he distincts things by scent alone. Scent and taste are two senses that he has in spades, even moreso than the other members of the Organization.
Lately, or so Zexion claims, he's begun to smell emotions. Hate, fear, sorrow, despair, all dark and black emotions. He claims he can't smell good ones—not that anyone in the castle ever feels anything, save Naminé.
Lexaeus comes in through the door to find Zexion with his back turned. He approaches slowly, knowing that Zexion's eyes are closed.
There is a small sound as Zexion breathes in and identifies him by scent. "Lexaeus."
"Zexion."
There are only few rules to the game. One is that very little is said.
"What do you smell?"
Another is that Lexaeus cannot mask whatever emotion he has at the moment. Zexion has never liked masquerades, has never enjoyed the thought of playing pretty and hiding behind painted paper veils.
There is a pause here—as there always is—and Zexion replies, sounding frustrated (and maybe a bit confused), "Nothing."
It is only now that Lexaeus approaches, and, with a slight brush of his hands against Zexion's shoulders, turns the smaller man to face him.
"Do you need to smell anything?" And with that sentence and a quick motion to kiss Zexion's cheek, then brush lips against lips, Lexaeus has broken the rules.
He leaves then, Zexion watching him in stunned silence.
As the door closes, Zexion's hair moves briefly in the draft that accompanies it before settling over his face like a thin silver mask.
no subject
Date: 2005-05-20 06:11 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 01:35 am (UTC)*is totally in love*
no subject
Date: 2005-05-21 05:59 am (UTC)