A/N: This here is for the whole 8/12 day that comes once a year. But this is also for the whole Axel's 8/8/08 day a few days ago, which only comes once an eternity and I frickin' missed it! So this one-shot is also kind of a make-up for that. But it's also mostly for Axel and Larxene, so this idea had been mulling around in my head, undergoing construction while everybody else in my class studied about the Constitution. (Darnit, I already know about the Constitution, I got more interesting priorities: like this right here! I can learn about a piece of paper some dead guys wrote later!)
So enjoy the little one-shot, I hope.
She was upset, that much he couldn't deny.
Her mind was raging inside, her lightning threatening to explode from within; glacier-blue eyes crackling with bottled fury, she clenched and unclenched her fingers like claws. As he watched her, he noticed how her shoulders raised to a hostile height as she stared at the blank wall; yet, he noted how while the expression on her face was blank, it was an oddly intent blankness. She wasn't just staring off into space; she was seeing something only she could see. He observed her further, and noticed how the muscles in her jaw were quivering ever so barely, like she was struggling on whether or not to sink her teeth into something... Even from his roost on the inner balcony he could see her clearly, seated on that couch so rigidly, staring past the books and past the tables, staring at the wall.
His ears picked up the sound of a door opening and closing, and seconds later the seventh member prowled in. Green eyes flickering, he observed Saix and wondered how Larxene would react with the intrusion, even if the library was a public domain for the Organization. He blinked once, marveling at how composed she was; she was silent, but her body language utterly screamed 'Go. Away. Now.' to anyone who bothered noticing her. She was leaning forward, eyes to the floor now, and her hands were clasped together, legs pressed to each other.
Crossing his arms, he placed his torso on them as he watched Saix taking his time in searching for a book in particular, it seemed. Again his eyes went to her, and he noticed with intrigue that her muscles were quivering under her torso-clinging coat, and her fingers were squeezing the life out of each other. His eyes narrowed in thought as his mind pricked with a sort of humble admiration for this woman, who could control her most deadly of the multiple angers she was cursed with. Now, she was no schizophrenic, he knew; she just happened to have varying sides of angers. This one, this most uncontrollable one, was composed of a very clean rage of frustration that threatened to literally scrape the face off of anyone who got too near with the wrong aura. It seemed to come at uncoordinated times, this wrath, but he knew that it could only pass on its own if no one knew how to handle her right about it.
Quite frankly, he was the only one who was analytical enough about her to have an inkling on how to help her in these moments.
An eternity seemed to pass before Saix finally took his leave, never once showing any indication that she was there at all, passing her off as a mere silhouette, perhaps. Once the door had fully closed, he went back to looking at her again. She had not moved, not budged a single muscle to act; yet she raised her head somewhat to stare steadily into the air like a predatory animal. Her narrowed eyes resembled chips of smoldering blue ice, and a snap of lightning had managed to break off of her hands. He noticed her breathing begin to quicken, but the change was so minuscule that hardly anyone but him would notice it.
He straightened himself, and in the next instant he was in front of her, a hand on his hip as he cupped his chin. "Been better?" he asked purposefully, voice calm and collected, as if he were used to this. In truth, he was.
Larxene looked up at him, lips prepared to be drawn back in a snarl, eyes wary with animal-like caution. "Don't ask me that," she replied, voice low and irritated. "You, of all people, should know this, Axel," she hissed, the sentence broken yet not quite in fragments.
Even now, he could tell she was struggling to keep her voice level and straight. Axel nodded and walked over; sitting next to her, he turned his head to look at her. "You just feel that rage, huh?" he asked quietly. When Larxene closed her eyes, he went on. "It must be so hard to keep it in all the time. It's actually quite unhealthy for you."
The lightning wielder opened her eyes and cast a steady look in his general direction. "What else am I supposed to do?" she snipped. "I can't help it; these rages just come as they please, because I cannot properly vent my angers. They build up and then arrive at the most inconvenient of times. Which is all the time." She took a shaky draw of breath, and her teeth clenched tightly.
Emerald eyes solemn and deep, Axel nodded in understanding. "It must be difficult for you," he replied, "to just not lash out at anybody."
Her eyes flashed like flint, and Larxene spat in a whisper, "Difficult? It's--agonizingly--unbearable!" Each word was dragged out and put into emphasis, so that Axel was careful in placing his next move.
He sighed empathically. "Come here," he said, voice neutral.
Larxene looked to his hand and grudgingly scooted into his arms. Letting him wrap his arms around her while she sat between his legs, both faced the wall ahead of them as Axel rested his chin on the top of her head. All Larxene could do was breathe, for it was the action that Axel was trying to stimulate from her, by means of rubbing her arms. "It's so goddamn unbearable sometimes," she whispered, voice biting like needles. "Sometimes I can't even take it; I find myself wanting to strike out at anyone who is around me for too long. I just want the taste of blood, the satisfaction of a clean kill."
Axel mumbled a noise of understanding as he wrapped his arms around her sides, letting her arms rest on his own, hands gripping his wrists on occasion. "And there's no way you can achieve something like that in the Organization," he murmured. "So you're stuck with this..."
"We've established that last part," Larxene growled, tightening her hold.
To his credit, Axel didn't wince; instead, he pulled her even closer to his body, lips pressed against the nape of her neck now. "But these always pass, don't they?" he asked. "It's always just a matter of time."
Larxene clenched her teeth and seethed. "Yes," she agreed. "But at the time, every time, I don't think about that. All I think of is the desire to strike, to fight, to taste blood..." Larxene shook her head somewhat, and Axel held her closer.
"Such is the Felidae who is fated not to be tamed," the Flurry Of Dancing Flames murmured. "A predatory cat of prey taken from what she loved, freedom, to be put in captivity. Now, you struggle to contain what is in your nature: the kill-or-be-killed complex."
"It's not a complex," Larxene retorted. "It's a law."
Axel smirked affectionately at her, and he knew she felt it; she never had to see it to know it was there. "Of course," he murmured. "It's why you're so on edge all the time, as well as why you don't really trust anyone around here. Hell, it's also why you're always raring for a fight of any kind. It's just to vent out a little."
Larxene turned to look at him, and Axel felt her muscles beginning to relax somewhat. Her eyes were slightly inquisitive, and the way they glittered with their mottled blue made him flash a tiny smile. All she needs is a little understanding, but because she was the sole female among eleven men -Axel included- it seemed quite out of reach. Axel had been watching her for quite a while, ever since she came to this Organization, and found that these clean rages -as well as all the other angers within her- seemed innate for her. "How awful it is to feel so caged," he murmured, his hold becoming intimate, as if he were trying to protect her from something only he could see.
"Indeed," she whispered, allowing him to shift her body so that she was sitting on his lap and sideways to him. Allowing her head to rest on his chest, Larxene sighed and murmured. "But it's a very clean wrath, and it passes, as you said. It's not tainted with the killer's blood-lust; it's different."
"I know," Axel said softly. "And it seems the only way you can try to vent it out is by adopting the character of a sadist."
"To the point where I became the sadist," Larxene replied quietly, a hand on his arm for self-comfort.
"And that threw you off-course," he muttered soothingly. "So now you just feel so messed up to the point where people find it hard and not worth it to understand you." Axel cupped her face to make Larxene look at him; when her blue eyes were completely focused on his own green orbs, the pyromancer whispered, "That's why it's so frustrating. You're so alone, with no one willing understand you, to empathize with you." Axel's green eyes suddenly flashed warmly. "But I understand you," he said, voice soft. "maybe not completely, but I'm progressing, and I'm willing to do so."
Larxene blinked slowly. She could feel her muscles relaxing, while her mind began to ebb away from its burning desire to rip and tear something asunder. Finally, someone in this hell-hole who was willing to understand her, and was even gaining some knowledge of her by means of his own analysis. "Thanks," she choked, finding the word awkward and out-of-habit.
Axel grinned and nodded, feeling her mood soften and drift away. "Welcome," he said softly.
The Nymph could only stare at his deep eyes until Axel noticed their close proximity of each other. He knew she didn't mind when he kissed her just now; he knew she had responded softly, if only for a second, before he pulled away. Larxene looked at him with an unreadable stare, before holding onto his neck gently as Axel laid himself down on the couch, her body resting against his for comfortable and trustful silence.