Giselle

SoraLarxene

a/n: for Icchan (CherryFlavoredChalk) because she's amazing and I haven't finished her real dedication yet. And, I couldn't find a place to fit this into the story, but Giselle is the name of a ballet-- my personal favorite, as a matter of fact. :

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The first time he sees her, he swears she's an angel in pointe slippers and leg-warmers ('it must be a trick of the light.'Kairi says. 'that's Larxene; she poison.') but with a look, her poison-polished nails are hooked in his chest.

He's almost forgotten how to breathe when Kairi tugs him out the door.

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The second time he sees her she takes his halo and throws it, bent and twisted, to the floor.

She's like you wouldn't believe.

On stage, she's a fascist in costume make-up. She owns (him) the audience— strings them along like a rag doll; pulling their heartstrings and severing them with a velvet slice.

He waits backstage with stars in his eyes and roses in his arms, which she ohsopromptly rips to shreds and tosses in the dumpster. "I hate roses." she snarls and he thinks he hears thunder.

She never looks lovelier than when she's tearing him down.

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The third time he sees her, he really sees her. The devil in leotards with her tack-sharp lips pressed against his.

And even though he can't, can't breathe, he thinks oh this might be love.


Reviews are ohsowelcome, darlings.