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You never knew what to expect with him.
He is fire and he is ice, a complex contradiction that, a curious mind like yours, found it almost impossible to resist. You wanted to unravel him, see him break and come apart, to understand everything he is.
He is, after all, but an abomination—a freak of nature, a being that shouldn't even be. He is nothing. And yet to you, oh, a sick part of you says that he is everything.
You chide yourself for your sick interest towards him, thinking it pathetic and hopeless, a reminder that you are weak. Weak for your feelings, weak for your sympathy. Weak, for your love. Love towards a monster, a killer, a man who is, quite literally, darkness personified.
Yet his name falls from your lips like a prayer.
Va-ni-tas.
Just three syllables.
Meaning void, meaning emptiness.
For others, an art and a symbol of the inevitability of death.
Suddenly you remember something you read from a book—a quote. “Battle not with monsters lest you become a monster, and when you gaze unto the abyss, the abyss gazes also unto you.” That is what he is, in your opinion—an abyss, an unrelenting chasm that would suck everything away into nothingness.
Even Xehanort himself thought so too—telling Terra that he has no control over the darkness in his heart, that he is an abomination beyond hope of salvation.
And here you are, slowly losing yourself.
Memories of him flow through you, bringing ache and hope, of his eyes golden and assimilating, raking over every inch of you and taking it all in. His hair, soft and midnight colored, and you can still feel the silk like quality of each strands in your hands. His body, the feeling of it entwined against yours, his arms tight around you and during the silent times wherein you make love, the way he seems so gentle.
A total contrast to how he is when he isn’t around you.
You can also remember those sleepless nights, standing across the bed, watching him writhe in pain. He is slowly being killed by his own hand. And you, feeling hopeless, unable to do anything. Because you both know that you can only soothe the pain for a few moments, that you can never really make it go away.
He carries with him a deep burden, one you know you can never heal. Because it is him, just as your darkness is your own too. He is his own worst enemy. You know that your time with him is limited, that destiny is a powerful force, and that his, is coming close to an end.
You can’t do anything about it.
By the time you reach the keyblade graveyard, the battle was already over. He is squatting now, an elbow resting on one knee and his right hand tight around his keyblade. You watched as he disappeared into nothingness, the chaotic chasm that he is finally sucking itself in.
Terrifying and fascinating, all at the same time.
He is gone.
And soon enough, so were you.