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Description
guilty as charged

7:30 PM, Wednesday Janruary 29th

The young musician drove his old turquoise Volkswagen beetle along a fairly sleepy road, the vehicle shaking dangerously as it pulled into a small driveway.

“Piece of shit,” the blonde spat as he climbed out, door creaking as he pried it open. He kicked the door closed with his foot, wincing a little at the pain that followed. He shrugged it off, grabbing his sitar out of the trunk before fumbling with his keys as he approached the small house. He paused at the door, still struggling to find the correct key. When he finally found himself holding the correct key, he shoved said key into the keyhole, twisting the shaky handle as he did so, opening the door with a squeak.

Fear sparked through him when he noticed the other being sitting on the couch. Red hair. A wave of relief washed over him as he flicked on the light, sighing.

“Damn, Axel, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing sitting in the dark? Aren’t you usually still at work?” the blonde mused, scratching the back of his mulleted hair as he gently closed the door behind him.

“I came home early… Just for you, Dem,” the other replied, face staying completely emotionless.

“For me? And the lights off?” Demyx began, sauntering over. “Was that a hint?” A smirk spread across the sitarist’s face.

“Mmmm… Something like that,” Axel replied, an evil grin finally spreading across his dead, emotionless face as he stood. A gun was revealed from behind his anorexic form.

“W-what are you doing with that?” Demyx started, backing away slowly, fear once again sparking up in his disposition.

“Something I’ve been planning to do for a long while…”

A demon smile.

A silenced shot.

A splatter of blood dripped down the red-head’s face, tracing over the dead tear drops tattooed to his slender face. The crimson made a startling contrast against the pale white of the murderer’s face.

Another shot, for safety.

There was little noise, little emotion in the whole process.

The killer slipped his gun back into his jacket, fleeing from the sight of the once living corpse. He exited through the back door. He wiped the blood from his face. He walked swiftly to his car parked at a park several blocks away. He drove. He stopped by a bar. He gambled away his last hundred bucks. He went to the pier. He silently dropped the gun into the ocean.

Demyx would like that. Demyx loved the ocean.

He went back to the car. He drove silently up that sleepy street, and pulled into the driveway, right next to the turquoise beetle.

He breathed deeply, preparing himself. A certain dance returned to his previously lifeless emerald eyes.

It was 10:00 PM.

He swiftly stepped out of his Jaguar, flipping through his keys as he approached the door. As he pushed the key in and turned, he was surprised to see the door unlocked. Demyx usually locks the door.

The guy was kind of paranoid.

He slowly opened the door.

“Demyx?” He called, slowly stepping in. “Oh my fuck—”

He ran to the side of the bleeding male, the color of his usually bright and perky face drained away. He kneeled down, placing his hand gently against the side of the other’s face. “Demyx? Demyx?! Oh shit, fuck, fuck!”

He was yelling. It could probably heard around that sleepy street.

He ran to the phone, shakily dialing 911.

“Hello?! Yes yes, oh shit, I need an ambulance! And the fucking cops! Send them, send a whole fucking team!”

“Calm down sir. What’s your emergency?”

“My lover’s on the ground… He’s been shot! Shit, shit, shit, he looks terrible, oh god—”

“Sir, did you see the killer?”

“No, I walked in and I fucking see him on the ground!
There’s a huge puddle of blood, he’s really pale, I don’t know how long ago it happened…”

“Help is on the way.”

Axel sighed. "Oh thank you," he whispered, voice shaking as he slowly placed the phone back on the wall. A wicked smile spread across the face, quickly disappearing as he returned to his character.

He slowly walked back over to the corpse laying on the ground, getting on his knees. "Oh, Demyx, look at where we've ended up... Oh god, Dem," he sobbed, intertwining his fingers into those of the dead man.

"Demy, Demy, Demy..." he was whispering in the dead ear, hunching over the body, holding it close to his chest. He cupped the pale, blood-splattered face in his blood-covered hands, gently brushing some clumpy strands of hair out of the anguished face.

Crocodile tears.
Just in case anyone was watching.

Description
guilty as charged

7:30 PM, Wednesday Janruary 29th

The young musician drove his old turquoise Volkswagen beetle along a fairly sleepy road, the vehicle shaking dangerously as it pulled into a small driveway.

“Piece of shit,” the blonde spat as he climbed out, door creaking as he pried it open. He kicked the door closed with his foot, wincing a little at the pain that followed. He shrugged it off, grabbing his sitar out of the trunk before fumbling with his keys as he approached the small house. He paused at the door, still struggling to find the correct key. When he finally found himself holding the correct key, he shoved said key into the keyhole, twisting the shaky handle as he did so, opening the door with a squeak.

Fear sparked through him when he noticed the other being sitting on the couch. Red hair. A wave of relief washed over him as he flicked on the light, sighing.

“Damn, Axel, you scared the shit out of me. What are you doing sitting in the dark? Aren’t you usually still at work?” the blonde mused, scratching the back of his mulleted hair as he gently closed the door behind him.

“I came home early… Just for you, Dem,” the other replied, face staying completely emotionless.

“For me? And the lights off?” Demyx began, sauntering over. “Was that a hint?” A smirk spread across the sitarist’s face.

“Mmmm… Something like that,” Axel replied, an evil grin finally spreading across his dead, emotionless face as he stood. A gun was revealed from behind his anorexic form.

“W-what are you doing with that?” Demyx started, backing away slowly, fear once again sparking up in his disposition.

“Something I’ve been planning to do for a long while…”

A demon smile.

A silenced shot.

A splatter of blood dripped down the red-head’s face, tracing over the dead tear drops tattooed to his slender face. The crimson made a startling contrast against the pale white of the murderer’s face.

Another shot, for safety.

There was little noise, little emotion in the whole process.

The killer slipped his gun back into his jacket, fleeing from the sight of the once living corpse. He exited through the back door. He wiped the blood from his face. He walked swiftly to his car parked at a park several blocks away. He drove. He stopped by a bar. He gambled away his last hundred bucks. He went to the pier. He silently dropped the gun into the ocean.

Demyx would like that. Demyx loved the ocean.

He went back to the car. He drove silently up that sleepy street, and pulled into the driveway, right next to the turquoise beetle.

He breathed deeply, preparing himself. A certain dance returned to his previously lifeless emerald eyes.

It was 10:00 PM.

He swiftly stepped out of his Jaguar, flipping through his keys as he approached the door. As he pushed the key in and turned, he was surprised to see the door unlocked. Demyx usually locks the door.

The guy was kind of paranoid.

He slowly opened the door.

“Demyx?” He called, slowly stepping in. “Oh my fuck—”

He ran to the side of the bleeding male, the color of his usually bright and perky face drained away. He kneeled down, placing his hand gently against the side of the other’s face. “Demyx? Demyx?! Oh shit, fuck, fuck!”

He was yelling. It could probably heard around that sleepy street.

He ran to the phone, shakily dialing 911.

“Hello?! Yes yes, oh shit, I need an ambulance! And the fucking cops! Send them, send a whole fucking team!”

“Calm down sir. What’s your emergency?”

“My lover’s on the ground… He’s been shot! Shit, shit, shit, he looks terrible, oh god—”

“Sir, did you see the killer?”

“No, I walked in and I fucking see him on the ground!
There’s a huge puddle of blood, he’s really pale, I don’t know how long ago it happened…”

“Help is on the way.”

Axel sighed. "Oh thank you," he whispered, voice shaking as he slowly placed the phone back on the wall. A wicked smile spread across the face, quickly disappearing as he returned to his character.

He slowly walked back over to the corpse laying on the ground, getting on his knees. "Oh, Demyx, look at where we've ended up... Oh god, Dem," he sobbed, intertwining his fingers into those of the dead man.

"Demy, Demy, Demy..." he was whispering in the dead ear, hunching over the body, holding it close to his chest. He cupped the pale, blood-splattered face in his blood-covered hands, gently brushing some clumpy strands of hair out of the anguished face.

Crocodile tears.
Just in case anyone was watching.