So, yeah. Sappy romance blah blah stuff. -wants to write tragedy-

Ooh. And new formatting :: I got rid of the line thingies; I was bored of them. yeah. -random!sick mood-

Disclaimer: ((gives dry look)) No.


For Sora, love was not a show.

She received no flowers. She received no cards. No chocolates, no fancy dresses, no surprise lunches at a café, and certainly no diamond jewelry and such were presented to her. He didn't parade her around the island, he didn't wrap his arms around her stomach in a public area and press a kiss to her cheek, and he didn't say "I love you" all too often.

He also ignored Selphie's protests and stomping of her foot as, thinking Kairi was a safe distance out of earshot, she would commence to berate him about not being romantic and being some kind of faulty prince charming. He'd just laugh it off, though, saying maybe his princely genes were screwed up, and he'd have to ask Riku about that; to which she'd stomp off in a huff, frustrated by his inability to take things seriously. And Kairi would be watching with a smile on her face as he just flopped back on the sand, linked his hands behind his head, and turned his vision to the spot he knew she'd been standing in all along, winking once before he turned his eyes back to the sky and closed them.

For Sora, being prince charming was overrated, and he'd rather be a faulty one than one at all.

As it was, she didn't really care. Princes were too flamboyant, knights were too flashy, and any other overlooked character of romanticism just didn't measure up. If a simple boy with a simple key had stolen her heart before any of this had ever happened, why did she need a fabled character to wake up her dreams with a kiss?

Her dreams had already been answered, anyway.

Stretching out her legs, (which looked very pale as the liquid silver of the moon above spilled into a puddle around her form and onto the sand), she then turned her head, fingers searching through the cool softness of the sand. She allowed her eyes to flicker towards the ocean, an undulating black mass with diamond sparkles of light. The trees, standing in position off to the side, brushed against the air, shuddering and enveloping her vision of the water at times, and then sighed backwards, resting in the calm. It was a beautiful night, was what she realized, staring into the nothingness of the oceanic abyss, and it was calm.

Until he came up behind her, hands over her eyes, and forced her backwards into his chest, laughing.

"Kairi!" he cried, one arm resting just against her neckline as he tilted his head towards hers and grinned so playfully, brown bangs flicking into his deep, beautiful, cobalt-blue eyes.

She giggled, arching her neck so she could look up at him comfortably, and then placed both hands on his jacket-clad arm. "Next time, try not to give me a heart-attack, huh? I've already lost my heart once."

His lip twitched, and he looked ready to scowl, but then he just moved his hand, ruffled her hair, and turned his head towards the water. She closed her eyes and giggled, leaning further back to just settle against his chest, and moved her left hand to his, which was resting on his knee, so that their fingers could intertwine.

"…so quiet," he murmured, turning his head back to her, blinking back the awe caused by the peacefulness of their surroundings.

"Not used to it?" she murmured curiously, tilting back her head to blink in question.

"Guess not," and he moved his right hand to trace his fingers against her forehead, grin slowly sliding along his lips.

She giggled, shaking her head against his touch, and then pulled away, flopping down on her back on the top of the dune, eyes watching him as he laughed and moved to mimic her. Playfully she smiled back, rocking back and forth, and then she was rolling down the sand, the spray of grit and her sharp giggles chasing away the soft stillness of the night. His shout of laughter told her that he had followed – he would always follow her – and then she spilled onto her side at the bottom, giggling as she held her ribs.

Taking in a deep breath, she lifted her head and opened her eyes. A following "oomph!" had her laughing again as she rested sprawled in Sora's arms, his deep chuckles increasing until their hysteric giggles spread across the beach. He shifted, still laughing, and fell on his back, she on his chest, so that when they calmed all they were doing was looking into the other's eyes.

And to Sora, that was love.

His smile spread across his face, and he lifted his fingers to her face, brushing her red strands of hair behind one ear so he could just take in her features. She blushed in the moonlight, letting her lips touch gently on his nose, and his hand slid to the back of her head, eyes shy when she reopened hers to glance at him.

No lavish gifts or selfish parading ever registered in his mind as romantic. To Sora, it – this thing called love – was basking under the moonlight. It was wrapping arms gently around his girl's (her) waist and kissing her softly on the cheek in privacy. It was laughing in friendship and still having something deeper and more beautiful lie underneath. And it saying "I love you" without words out all, and thus without having to smother her with the words that were used way too much anyway. It was the little things that mattered, the little things that were made beautiful because he cared enough for her.

And she liked that about her boy, because he was one in a million, and was her one in a million.

Just having a person patient enough to sit and wait for the kiss he'd never take without asking was heaven on earth. Because no prince charming ever stopped to ask if his princess wanted to be independent.

And her Keyblade Master already knew.

So she'd take the whispered "I love you, Kairi"-s, and would relish in the secret hand-holding and nuzzling they did under the starlight. For their relationship wasn't for show, as both hated being thrust into the spotlight when all they really wanted was to just sit back and be teenaged kids. And Sora didn't care that he wasn't taking on the lead role of prince for a princess.

He was happy to just be boy Sora, keyblade illuminating his own path, hand always extended should the princess stumble. And she was happy that, should she stumble and tumble and fall, he'd give up his dignity – like no prince ever seemed able to do – and trip right along with her.

Closing her eyes, she giggled and kissed her not-so prince charming under the moonlight and stars, knowing they'd find a way to rewrite the books and make their own kind of ending.



Please review!