vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

Zexion laces his fingers tightly with Demyx, tucks himself against the taller man’s side, ankle to knee to shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry. I was just always so busy and then I started worrying that…” He shrugs awkwardly, hesitantly presses a kiss to the side of Demyx’s neck, inhales deeply.

His muscles relax, releasing the last bit of residual stress that hung in them. Demyx’s scent, warm and full of sunshine and saltwater, floods his system and Zexion presses closer, some part of him stupidly upset that none of Zexion’s own smell remains on the blond’s body. But after a bit, he pulls minutely back and smiles gently. “I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Dem. I promise.”

Demyx gave a relieved smile and leaned forward hesitantly, brushing his lips against Zexions before kissing him fully, ” I hope that anywhere doesn’t include my apartment or yours, most likely yours, for snuggling, bad movies and Tai take out?” He asked hopefully.

“…It’s like I never left,” Zexion teases, kissing him back. “Oh how you know the way to my heart. Please tell me that Six String Samurai is on that list of movies.”

Grin and chuckle, “You know it Zex! No bad movie night is complete without Triple ‘S’ and Mega Shark Versus Giant Octopus! Heheh!” He snuggles against him, nuzzling his neck and resting his head on the slate haired mans shoulder.  “I missed you a lot Zexy. And we can talk about everything that went on when we get home. ‘Kay?” The blond placed a sweet kiss against his neck.

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

A smile flickered across the musicians lips as he mirrored Zexions step. It was him, it was Zexion, and he was home. He took another step, and then another until he was standing directly in front of the slate haired man, and unlike Zexion, there was no hesitance, he didn’t dare entertain the idea that the schemer might not care for him anymore, he wrapped Zexion in a fearsome hug and buried his face in the crook of the slightly shorter mans neck.  

“Zexion, I can’t….you’re back…for a second I thought…..I….no, it doesn’t matter…..” he pulled his face back so that he could look at the other man and giving him a weary smile, “I’m so glad that you’re back…..”

Zexion’s eyes close tightly and he wraps his arms around Demyx. “Thank god,” he thinks, thoughts and muscles melting from the sudden release of tension. Demyx is still here. Still willing for this. He meets Demyx’s eyes and smiles back softly, touching the blond’s face softly. “I’m sorry I left like that. I had… I had a conference, and then a conference after that and then family…” he waves a hand. “No matter. How have you been, love?”

The blond’s heart fluttered in his chest and he leans his face into the touch, savoring every contact as if the slate haired man might disappear. “Lonely, really lonely and bored. Roxas ditched me not long after you…left, because his mom got sick and he had to go help her. My band broke up over something stupid so there was no more practice to attend and classes and work are only distracting for so long.”

Demyx took Zexions hand and kissed the palm of it, a gesture that he had done before. “And it’s okay, you’re back and that all that really matters, though if you ever just up and disappear like that again without any notification and don’t call me or text me like you did I’m going to be a lot less forgiving.” He smiled wider and led Zexion to sit back at the table so that they weren’t standing in the coffee shop like two loons.

Zexion laces his fingers tightly with Demyx, tucks himself against the taller man’s side, ankle to knee to shoulder. “I’m… I’m sorry. I was just always so busy and then I started worrying that…” He shrugs awkwardly, hesitantly presses a kiss to the side of Demyx’s neck, inhales deeply.

His muscles relax, releasing the last bit of residual stress that hung in them. Demyx’s scent, warm and full of sunshine and saltwater, floods his system and Zexion presses closer, some part of him stupidly upset that none of Zexion’s own smell remains on the blond’s body. But after a bit, he pulls minutely back and smiles gently. “I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon, Dem. I promise.”

Demyx gave a relieved smile and leaned forward hesitantly, brushing his lips against Zexions before kissing him fully, ” I hope that anywhere doesn’t include my apartment or yours, most likely yours, for snuggling, bad movies and Tai take out?” He asked hopefully.

fadeintou:

This is your arrow of destiny. Reblog this and see what comes up next! This person/thing/saying will have something to do with your future.

(Source: compartmentalist)

{imma bbl guys. LOVES}

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

Ten minutes is all it takes before Demyx’s motorbike is purring at the front of the shop, but it only takes ten seconds for the noisy two wheeled transport to be silenced, proped on the kickstand and for the blond to be striding through the door to the coffee shop.

He wasn’t looking his best. His hair was sleep tousled and his dark jeans were wrinkled, his gray v-neck t-shirt was halfway tucked into the waist of his pants, at least no one could see his mismatched socks past his old sneakers. When his teal gaze found what he’d rushed down to the shop for; he froze. “Zexy?” His throat closed slightly around the name.

A familiar motorcycle engine purrs outside the door and Zexion tries his hardest to sink into the music surrounding him because otherwise, his heart will practically explode.

But his name is called, and it’s that voice, Demyx-

Zexion jolts upright as though shocked, half-turning to see the blonde (his blonde, his mind hisses) man at the door. He swallows roughly, stands. His fingers flex rapidly, and he takes a hesitant step towards Demyx.

“Hello, Demyx,” he says awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to pull the bedraggled man into a hug. But he’s been gone so long he doesn’t know how it will be taken.

A smile flickered across the musicians lips as he mirrored Zexions step. It was him, it was Zexion, and he was home. He took another step, and then another until he was standing directly in front of the slate haired man, and unlike Zexion, there was no hesitance, he didn’t dare entertain the idea that the schemer might not care for him anymore, he wrapped Zexion in a fearsome hug and buried his face in the crook of the slightly shorter mans neck.  

“Zexion, I can’t….you’re back…for a second I thought…..I….no, it doesn’t matter…..” he pulled his face back so that he could look at the other man and giving him a weary smile, “I’m so glad that you’re back…..”

Zexion’s eyes close tightly and he wraps his arms around Demyx. “Thank god,” he thinks, thoughts and muscles melting from the sudden release of tension. Demyx is still here. Still willing for this. He meets Demyx’s eyes and smiles back softly, touching the blond’s face softly. “I’m sorry I left like that. I had… I had a conference, and then a conference after that and then family…” he waves a hand. “No matter. How have you been, love?”

The blond’s heart fluttered in his chest and he leans his face into the touch, savoring every contact as if the slate haired man might disappear. “Lonely, really lonely and bored. Roxas ditched me not long after you…left, because his mom got sick and he had to go help her. My band broke up over something stupid so there was no more practice to attend and classes and work are only distracting for so long.”

Demyx took Zexions hand and kissed the palm of it, a gesture that he had done before. “And it’s okay, you’re back and that all that really matters, though if you ever just up and disappear like that again without any notification and down call me or text me like you did I’m going to be a lot less forgiving.” He smiled wider and led Zexion to sit back at the table so that they weren’t standing in the coffee shop like two loons.

Open RP

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

The minute hand on the wall clock in the shop ticks consistently, but finally after several anxious moments the sound of a guitar being strummed is heard again, and again theres is only a short message.

“…..your apartment home or are you out somewhere?”

“The coffee shop down the street.”

Zexion takes in a deep, careful breath. His hands are shaking. He shouldn’t be this scared. Left them, skipped town for all intents and purposes, didn’t bother saying goodbye, knew would be back, no matter, no matter. Smoothing his hands across the rough grain of the table in front of him, Zexion focuses himself on the texture under his fingers. Bump, line, groove, and he traces them until he can ignore the pounding of his heart.

‘“DONT MOVE”

For a moment, Zexion goes completely still with panic. The table retreats under his fingertips, numbed by the rush of blood, but then his rational mind kicks in. Demyx is coming to him. Doesn’t want him to move, so he can find him again.

Zexion exhales. Texts back.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ten minutes is all it takes before Demyx’s motorbike is purring at the front of the shop, but it only takes ten seconds for the noisy two wheeled transport to be silenced, proped on the kickstand and for the blond to be striding through the door to the coffee shop.

He wasn’t looking his best. His hair was sleep tousled and his dark jeans were wrinkled, his gray v-neck t-shirt was halfway tucked into the waist of his pants, at least no one could see his mismatched socks past his old sneakers. When his teal gaze found what he’d rushed down to the shop for; he froze. “Zexy?” His throat closed slightly around the name.

A familiar motorcycle engine purrs outside the door and Zexion tries his hardest to sink into the music surrounding him because otherwise, his heart will practically explode.

But his name is called, and it’s that voice, Demyx-

Zexion jolts upright as though shocked, half-turning to see the blonde (his blonde, his mind hisses) man at the door. He swallows roughly, stands. His fingers flex rapidly, and he takes a hesitant step towards Demyx.

“Hello, Demyx,” he says awkwardly, wanting nothing more than to pull the bedraggled man into a hug. But he’s been gone so long he doesn’t know how it will be taken.

A smile flickered across the musicians lips as he mirrored Zexions step. It was him, it was Zexion, and he was home. He took another step, and then another until he was standing directly in front of the slate haired man, and unlike Zexion, there was no hesitance, he didn’t dare entertain the idea that the schemer might not care for him anymore, he wrapped Zexion in a fearsome hug and buried his face in the crook of the slightly shorter mans neck.  

“Zexion, I can’t….you’re back…for a second I thought…..I….no, it doesn’t matter…..” he pulled his face back so that he could look at the other man and giving him a weary smile, “I’m so glad that your back…..”

Open RP

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

The minute hand on the wall clock in the shop ticks consistently, but finally after several anxious moments the sound out a guitar being strummed is heard again, and again theres is only a short message.

“…..your apartment home or are you out somewhere?”

“The coffee shop down the street.”

Zexion takes in a deep, careful breath. His hands are shaking. He shouldn’t be this scared. Left them, skipped town for all intents and purposes, didn’t bother saying goodbye, knew would be back, no matter, no matter. Smoothing his hands across the rough grain of the table in front of him, Zexion focuses himself on the texture under his fingers. Bump, line, groove, and he traces them until he can ignore the pounding of his heart.

‘“DONT MOVE”

For a moment, Zexion goes completely still with panic. The table retreats under his fingertips, numbed by the rush of blood, but then his rational mind kicks in. Demyx is coming to him. Doesn’t want him to move, so he can find him again.

Zexion exhales. Texts back.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Ten minutes is all it takes before Demyx’s motorbike is purring at the front of the shop, but it only takes ten seconds for the noisy two wheeled transport to be silenced, proped on the kickstand and for the blond to be striding through the door to the coffee shop.

He wasn’t looking his best. His hair was sleep tousled and his dark jeans were wrinkled, his gray v-neck t-shirt was halfway tucked into the waist of his pants, at least no one could see his mismatched socks past his old sneakers. When his teal gaze found what he’d rushed down to the shop for; he froze. “Zexy?” His throat closed slightly around the name.

Open RP

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

aquaticsymphonic:

vithecloakedschemerwalking:

Zexion rests his elbows against the table in the coffeeshop, a mug of tea pressed against his lips. He inhales steadily, eyes closed. He’s been away too long, too busy, and he’s just satisfied with being back in town after a whirlwind of conferences and work and family. 

That said, it’s not like he’s slept much. Packing unpacking constant movement and he shakes his head to clear it. He’s not moving anymore. Zexion is just. Sitting here. With his tea. 

No more, no less.

It’s sad that he keeps checking his phone for any communication from someone else, because he let them all know that he’s home again. Nothing’s come in yet. Nothing from Demyx (and when he drove by the blond’s apartment, it was dark and he didn’t want to intrude), nothing from Roxas or Sora or Riku or Saix-

-he cuts his brain off again with another sip of tea. Not now. His thoughts skitter and jump, static-y and unpleasant. 

God, Zexion hopes someone comes in that he can talk to. 

A delightful chirp sounded from the schemers pocketed cellular, a quick cheerful strum of a guitar that had been set by a certain blond as his personal alert for Zexion.  When the slate haired man retrieved his phone he see’s that he has a singular text from the musician and its contents are surprisingly short and to the point for the guitarist that was prone to run on sentences.

“……youre home…..?”

Zexion swipes his thumb across his screen almost nervously before replying quickly, not allowing himself time to think about what he’s saying.

“Yes.”

Taking a deep breath, Zexion settles back against his chair to wait, hand clenched tightly around his mug of tea. Breathe in, breathe out, in, out. Scent of tea, food, people, tea, and coffee. Music swirls around him, and he just… waits.

The minute hand on the wall clock in the shop ticks consistently, but finally after several anxious moments the sound out a guitar being strummed is heard again, and again theres is only a short message.

“…..your apartment home or are you out somewhere?”

“The coffee shop down the street.”

Zexion takes in a deep, careful breath. His hands are shaking. He shouldn’t be this scared. Left them, skipped town for all intents and purposes, didn’t bother saying goodbye, knew would be back, no matter, no matter. Smoothing his hands across the rough grain of the table in front of him, Zexion focuses himself on the texture under his fingers. Bump, line, groove, and he traces them until he can ignore the pounding of his heart.

‘“DONT MOVE”

{GAH, THIS IS LIKE MY BIGGEST FOOD WEAKNESS EVERRRRR, THIS AND A NICE CUP OF TEA AND A GOOD FANTASY NOVEL AND IM IN HEAVEN!!!!!!!}

(Source: you-can-never-ruin-me)