Author: Trilies
Genre: Drama and... ro...mance? I... am not sure with Delirium.
Word length: 1264
Sypnosis: With the state of mind he's in, Zexion tends to keep a paranoid eye on who enters his castle in Prydain. So how did a mad girl, a "perky goth", and a talking dog get in?
Yaoi/Yuri/Pairings: Delirium&Barnabas, Death&Delirium, vaguely hinted Delirium/Zexion
Notes: This time, not only is this a Kill the Hero fic, but it's a Sandman crossover too! Wow, crazy. This is one of the first times I've ever written Delirium and Death, so I'm not quite sure if I nailed their character right.
Eyes Made of Butterflies
"-AnD if yOu taSte thE sky, It tAstEs a lil' bit liKe rAspbErrIEs."
"Mmm."
"ONe TiMe I tRiEd To PaCk It In A tAkE oUt BoX, bUt My BeE eYe GeE bRoThEr WiTh ThE sTaR eYeS dIdN't LiKe ThAt, BeCaUsE DreAm Or ThIs DreAm BeCaUsE mY oThEr OnE wAs KiNd Of SuLkY lIkE tHe RaIn BuT i LoVeD hIm AnYwAy. Um, BuT hE dIdN't LiKe ThAt, YeAh."
"...Nn?"
"...I rEAlly mIss hIm. HE wAs A lIttle sAd."
The world is shifting and shattering beneath his feet. Eyelids squeeze shut, and when he opens them again, he's back in his castle, curled up on the floor before his throne. The castle of the former Horned King is as dark as ever, and that serves to illuminate the young girl all the more. She looks younger than him, all sickly pale skin regardless. A large trench coat falls over her shoulders, dwarfing her further, while her multicolored hair floats and twists in the air above her. It's hard to tell what style it's in, for it seems to him as if it's changing every second and he can't tell how. Her eyes are wide and mismatched, lashes alternating between black and white. They're nothing compared to her lips; somehow a rainbow Rorschach test of lipstick. She's a strange girl, to be sure, but she is also somehow familiar, more than anything else.
There are a lot of things he'd like to ask, but whenever he tries to grasp onto one, the question gains wings and flaps off to roost in the rosters. A more stable part of him hisses that it's the fault of the girl, but then that part drowns when she laughs. "You'Re FuNNY, CaTCHiNG THiNGS WiTH YouR HeaD. Dream CaN Do THaT, aND So CaN i SoMeTiMeS, BuT You'Re JuST KiND oF LiKe HiM, NoT ReaLLY." Lazily, she flops on her back between his legs, using his knees as armrests. Her forehead brushes against his chin when he looks down at her absent smile.
Words drain from his mouth and fall onto her cheeks like rain tears when he forces them to. "I don't know you."
"Of doubLey triPley quAdruplE coursE you do," she pouts. "You alwAys calL me all The timE and inTroducE me to nEw frieNds and Nice peOple." Wiggling, she rolls onto her stomach and adjusts until she's resting on his chest and their noses are almost touching. "And now You're oNe of my Little People, Except Not the ChocolAte oneS."
As her fingers trace paranoia and lies on his cheek bone, Zexion just frowns. "One of yours...?" he echoes, old pride bristling in his hollow chest. That almost makes everything clearer, but he still doesn't know what's going on. Persistence, however, is a trait noticeable in most Nobodies. "I don't want to be one of yours."
"Oh. Um." Their noses are practically smushed together now as she stares at him. "I Don't Think YouReallyHaveAChoice."
"What-"
"Delirium!" A faint hint of chocolate and wet dog hair overrides the scent of sour wines, sweat, and old leather, and Zexion sees through the shimmering seaweed-ocean of the girl's hair a dog trotting into the throne room. With a pelt of gray and black, he's a hunting dog of some sort. The dog wags his tail in relief, but then Zexion's attention is on the woman following the animal. Normally, he'd be alarmed at not being able to smell someone; his sense of smell is one fo the things which keeps him alive. But in this case, he feels nothing but relaxed as the woman with the white skin and black clothes steps closer.
That in itself can be considered alarming.
"Hi dOggY!" Delirium calls back, turning on her back again and laughing as she pets the dog. "You FouNd mE agAin, Did You FolLow The FisHes?"
"Nah, Del, he was hanging around with me for a while," the woman in black says, waving a hand about aimlessly. She smiles at Zexion, who just frowns back. "Now, I think we've caused Barnabas enough trouble, right?"
A head of hair is suddenly pressing against his throat and chin, and Zexion has to bat away the swirling strands from his eyes. The worlds shakes, but remains clear. "bUt I wAnt tO sTay wIth IenzoOroscoWho'sNotHimselfAnymore!" Delirium protests, wrapping her arms around his chest.
Having had enough of being ignored, Zexion purses his lips and asks coldly, "May I ask who you people are and why you're in this castle?"
A mad giggle, right by his ear, before a wet kiss is plastered to his mouth, and in his surprise, Zexion jerks back. As he smacks the back of his head against the throne, Delirium smiles. "YOU mAy, prOlly, bUt thAt's A sIlly thIng tO mAybE Ask cUz I'm mAybE hErE fOr yOU! DId yOU knOw lIzArds cAn tApdAncE? ThEy UsE cAnEs Of InsEct bOnEs..." That's when hands hook themselves underneath her armpits, and the woman in black grunts as she lifts Delirium up to her feet.
"Listen, I have to talk to Zexion for a minute, okay?" she tells the younger girl. "Why don't you play with Barnabas for a while?"
Clasping her hands in delight, Delirium dances about Barnabas the dog. "oH! oH! wE caN gO seE thE peoplE witH nO flesH anD prettY clotheS! theY knoW thE besT baT songS." Gone, suddenly.
Bewildered, Zexion draws himself up into a crouch as he stares at the empty space. A hand enters his view, and Zexion looks back up at the woman. She tilts her head to the side. Smiles. "Need a hand?" When he accepts the offered hand but says nothing, she fills in the silence herself. "You know, that's actually what I wanted to talk to you about. The undead soldiers you have under your command. Think you can let them off the hook?"
Withdrawing his hand, Zexion only breathe for a moment. The answer is obvious for him. Can't let his defenses weaken, might let them in... "I'm afraid I will have to politely refuse your request." A pause. "...Do I know you?"
Not at all offended, by anything, the woman only smiles at him. The ankh hanging from her neck shines in the light. "Everyone knows me, Zexion."
"...I suppose they do," he says softly, even when he doesn't half-understand his own words.
Another smile. She stretches her arms over her head and laughs. "Well, I thought I'd give it a try anyway. Ever change your mind, just do it, okay? I'll be there." Affectionately, she ruffles his hair. The action makes him frown and he ducks away.
"I would most certainly appreciate it if you didn't treat me like a child."
"Sorry." She honestly seems to mean it. "While I'm here, I might as well tell you about Lexaeus. Kanene always makes her kills with him nearby, so I always see him when I visit the deep jungles, but anyway... He's worrying about you. He's a good guy, Zexion." She reaches over so her hand brushes against the back of his head and so she can lay a gentle kiss on his forehead. "Don't make him fret."
Opening his eyes and not aware that he'd closed them, Zexion looks about the now empty throne room. The memory of the indignation bursts inside his chest, and he bristles. "We can take care of ourselves, thank you!" he says loudly to thin air, already forgetting who his words are directed to.
"...Zexion?" Xion's standing in the doorway, staring at him in confusion. "Were you talking to someone?"
He presses a hand to his head. "Perhaps." Ignoring her increasing bewilderment, "I believe I need to sleep."
An unspoken I told you so and "But you just went to sleep."
"That explains so much and so little."
