notmeanttoexiist:

A nod.  That’s all she can offer.  Her hands fist in her lap, and she almost wishes that the blonde girl had not come closer.  She is sure it is easier to see, now.  How close she is to cracking.  How tightly clenched her jaw is, how close she is to tears.  

       This is the right choice, and she is sure of it.
                                  That does not make it hurt any less.  

       She is going to die.  She is going to die and there will be nothing of her left.  Some small, selfish part of her screams, thrashes.  It’s not fair! she shrieks.  She wants to rip out her keyblade and destroy everything in this room, the table and chairs and wall and maybe, even, Namine.  Because Namine is so kind, but she is still going to be the one who, in some ways, kills her.

  Xions does not, of course, do anything like that.

Her shoulders tense to hide the way they are suddenly shaking.  She is so frightened.  Hasn’t she any right to be?  Frightened and angry and so, so sad.  

  Don’t cry.  Don’t cry.  Don’t you dare cry.

                                   She wonders, almost comically, if she even can cry.

    She tries a smile; it doesn’t translate.  ”Th-Thanks, Namine,” she whispers, and despite her smile her voice is shaking and there are tears on her cheeks.  Well.  That answers that question.

        “I…I’m s-sorry, this i-is…”

         _{Emotions she may feel, but there are still things that are beyond her comprehension. There is a feeling of loss and apprehension when she noticed that Xion began to shake and tremble where she stood, shoulders tense in an attempt to hide it, to hide the pain that was wracking her body emotionally, causing her to react physically. And the blonde didn’t know what do to.}

                           _{There were many things that she had done that she regretted—so many things. Allowing herself to be manipulated, letting herself do everything that she had done… but in that moment she did not regret. Only resent. Resent herself for being unable to do anything to help Xion, even with all of the abilities that she was created with. Resent the Organization for creating this girl and using her as their puppet. Resent the universe and fate itself, for letting this happen.}

         _{Memory manipulation was granted to her and oh how powerful it was, how much destruction it placed in her hand just by existing. Yet there was no good that could ever come of her powers, and she could feel something inside of her shudder and weaken and her shoulders droop and her face fall and there were tears on Xion’s face because she was crying and she was sad and afraid. In that moment, Naminé wished more than ever that she had never been created, had never been given the chance to exist as her own entity.}

                                    _{—But then, would Xion?}

                  _{Comfort was a vague idea to her but still she took a single step forward, and then another, and then another and reached out with a hesitant hand. Touch was always so difficult for her, to reach out and make contact with another, yet still her hand fell upon this girl’s shoulder, trying not to cross any boundaries, but giving it a soft squeeze nonetheless. How truly useless she was.}

                                             _{”Don’t apologize... and don't thank me.”}

                     _{Dangerously her voice wavered and her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes stung.}

                                                                        _{“I’m so sorry, Xion. I wish...”}

                                                                 _{That things could be different.}