"(I didn't make notes until later.)" Zexion insisted softly in his tidiest defense, remembering all too clearly how he'd agonized over trying to recall the spelling on those labels. He badgered the cooks with curiousity for some time after, and after months of porridge and broth and mourning, Master Ansem had sighed a breath of relief for his renaissance in tactile ways that people could see, fearing he'd be lost in his own head. Ienzo had discovered how to spice his own life up, and after that it was all a matter of exploration, translation.
He was no longer so alone with it, here and now, when it came to sticking little marvels in his mouth, letting the blissful delicacies of the world waft under his nose. Companionship sank into his deepest parts and took up residence in all the vacant space there, and it was a feeling still a little alien, for the Nobody, whenever he actually took the time to reflect upon it. Right now he wound up studying Edmund's dark lashes, the riddle of freckles dotting his fair face, the slow and candid movements of his lips.
He found himself squeezing at his elbows through the sweater again, kneading along as the muscles in their jaws rolled and stretched together, contemplating the sweets. Sighing in contented, aching unison.
Zexion found himself wanting for more to express of himself, wagging his head a little in astonishment.
"Ah," He hesitated, words tangled and half-formed, envying how simple it would be for someone like Ai to lean across the table with smotheringly soft cheek-kisses and nose bumps and Love Yous. That would all be quite off-character, coming from a schemer, emotionally reserved even when he did luxuriate in what might qualify as his passions. "Sometimes, I do wish I had some sort of affectionate remark for you that came easily to my lips."
An odd, inarticulate phrasing, and Zexion sneers at himself for voicing it, glancing down and away, bothered.
He meant to say something complimentary, instead it came out all terribly self-pitying.
His fingertips ferreted among the bottom tier for a crispy aniseed wafer, dipped in more chocolate on one end, popping it in his mouth to stall for time, brittle munching sounds ringing against his teeth and echoing between the ears. Swallowing, he lets his flustered attention fall back to Edmund and his chocolate, and this time it's Zexion who melts outwardly along with him, fondness and melancholy mingling on his brow.
To anyone else in the vicinity, the look might read as lovesick. In truth, he's just a little bit enchanted with his friend's hedonistic abandon.
"You do that so very attractively, Ed." He sighs heavy, lush with grief and ardor. "Any respectable heart should swoon to watch you partake in a pile of truffles."
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He was no longer so alone with it, here and now, when it came to sticking little marvels in his mouth, letting the blissful delicacies of the world waft under his nose. Companionship sank into his deepest parts and took up residence in all the vacant space there, and it was a feeling still a little alien, for the Nobody, whenever he actually took the time to reflect upon it. Right now he wound up studying Edmund's dark lashes, the riddle of freckles dotting his fair face, the slow and candid movements of his lips.
He found himself squeezing at his elbows through the sweater again, kneading along as the muscles in their jaws rolled and stretched together, contemplating the sweets. Sighing in contented, aching unison.
Zexion found himself wanting for more to express of himself, wagging his head a little in astonishment.
"Ah," He hesitated, words tangled and half-formed, envying how simple it would be for someone like Ai to lean across the table with smotheringly soft cheek-kisses and nose bumps and Love Yous. That would all be quite off-character, coming from a schemer, emotionally reserved even when he did luxuriate in what might qualify as his passions. "Sometimes, I do wish I had some sort of affectionate remark for you that came easily to my lips."
An odd, inarticulate phrasing, and Zexion sneers at himself for voicing it, glancing down and away, bothered.
He meant to say something complimentary, instead it came out all terribly self-pitying.
His fingertips ferreted among the bottom tier for a crispy aniseed wafer, dipped in more chocolate on one end, popping it in his mouth to stall for time, brittle munching sounds ringing against his teeth and echoing between the ears. Swallowing, he lets his flustered attention fall back to Edmund and his chocolate, and this time it's Zexion who melts outwardly along with him, fondness and melancholy mingling on his brow.
To anyone else in the vicinity, the look might read as lovesick. In truth, he's just a little bit enchanted with his friend's hedonistic abandon.
"You do that so very attractively, Ed." He sighs heavy, lush with grief and ardor. "Any respectable heart should swoon to watch you partake in a pile of truffles."