Another Zexion-fic. Like the past two, this Zexy-fic is based (however loosely) on true events (that have happened to me). This one is set just after Golden Chamber 2, slightly before Golden Chamber 3.
Pulling Back
Gildas pulled back. Zexion opened his eyes, his lips still locked in that position, his shirt and Gildas’ discarded on the floor. “I’m… I’m sorry. I can’t. I have to go to bed.” Gildas picked up his shirt, draping it over his shoulders, and left the room quickly. Zexion stood there, his eyes focused on that one point, just thinking. What? What? What?
Zexion picked up his shirt and slid it back on. With every button he put back into place, his mind was reeling. Why had Gildas suddenly… stopped? Button. What was wrong? Button. Gildas did take naps, but… Button. Something was wrong… Button. Now what? He stood still in the large living room, the fireplace still crackling to his side. Gildas… what was wrong with him?
Ever since becoming Regent, Gildas was acting differently. Of course, this was to be expected: he had a public to be perfect for, and guards to impress. But… Gildas had never pulled out of a kiss before. Zexions mind swam with thoughts. Did he not love me anymore? Was he just genuinely tired, and not awake enough for…more? He didn’t understand. Why?
Zexion sat down on the expensive sofa and lay his head on the side. The look in Gildas’ eyes… Sorrow? Was he cheating on him? No. Gildas would never do that. There was Demyx, but Gildas was being controlled. Of course he was. The radio by the fireplace swapped songs, skipping to their old favourite, “Lilium”. As the Latin broke into his thoughts he calmed down. Gildas was just…tired. And that was to be expected, he’d had no less that seven meetings today, and another four scheduled for tomorrow. He had to be on top form, and…
Zexion sat watching the fire crackling quietly in the grate, and a single, solitary tear ran down his cheek. Gildas was the only one who could ever make him cry… and it was a skill being put into practise more and more recently. Gildas never meant to, of course, but Zexion needed comfort, the strong boy that Gildas had been, rather than the cold, patriotic… heterosexual leader that he had to become. That was what hurt Zexion the most. Gildas would, eventually, to calm the public, have to marry. And he would have to have a wife, and have children to continue his rule. Zexion’s eyes flooded with tears. Children… that would mean he would be second-best, not important anymore… Gildas never wanted children, nor did he ever want a ‘wife’, but Zexion couldn’t help but feel he would be forced into it.
Zexion stepped forwards. He wasn’t important. Not anymore. He was second-best, silver-medallist, not good enough. He stepped forwards once more. The fire became louder as he leant forward, feeling the heat lick against his skin. One swift leap into this warmth and it would be over. No more pain, no more unhappiness, no more suffering. A few moments of physical scarring and then it would all change.
He leant further forward. Gildas didn’t need him anymore.
His left foot eased closer. Gildas would find a wife and be happy.
He reached his hand out. Gildas…
Gildas…
No. Gildas wouldn’t want this.
He stepped back, towards the sofa, feeling ashen. Gildas may have been cold recently… but a smile from him was always enough to warm his heart. Zexion thought back. If Gildas hadn’t stopped, Zexion wouldn’t have faced this decision. Wouldn’t have realised… just how special Gildas really was to him.
So sometimes, on nights when Zexion needed comforting… He always thought… Maybe it’s not so bad, pulling back…
