Marxie’s point of view:
I tossed and turned in my bed. I bolted upright, but when I did, there was a sharp pain in my side and I pressed on it, trying to get it to stop. I looked down at my right side. There was a deep cut and it looked oddly fimilair. I stood up, ignoring the pain and the blood. I walked over to my mirror on my closet door and looked at my reflection. Something was different. But what? My hair was still blonde but it was a lot shorter. That had to be it. I tucked it behind my ear and then noticed that my hair was cut like Zexion’s. Who’d cut my hair? I shrugged and walked out of my room and into the hall. I heard someone running behind me, but before I could turn around they wrapped their arms around me tightly. I stiffened and they kissed my cheek. I flinched in pain. “Marxie…” a voice whispered from behind me. I turned around and looked at him. Zexion. A smile spread across my face and I held him close. I felt like something bad had happened between us but I didn’t know what. I took a big shakey breath and held on tighter. I didn’t want to let go of him. I closed my eyes to stop the tears from coming but when I opened them the tears fell. I took a step back after a minute and he smiled. “what the hell did you do to you beautiful hair?!” he asked as he held some up in his hands. I smiled. “I don’t know. Its like yours now, though.” I said. He sighed and tucked the strand behind my ear. I didn’t know how he’d done it if I couldn’t, but then again he knew his hair style better than me. I smiled. “thanks…” I whispered. I turned around and walked. “where are you going?” he asked confused. “to the kitchen. I’m hungrey.” I said. He laughed. “the kitchen is this way.” he said, pointing in the oppisite direction. I looked down and started to walked in the direction he’d told me. “are you okay?” he asked. I didn’t answer and kept walking. “Marxie!” he yelled as he grabbed my arm. I stopped, frozen, as he slowly lossened his grip on my uper arm. I closed my eyes and took deep, silent, breathes to calm myself. To late. I pushed him against the closest wall and held him there with my claws at his neck. “If you ever, ever, ever, do that again I will kill you myself and have your head on a stick! Do you understand?!” I yelled. He looked at my claws then at me. I growled at him and he nodded. “calm down, Marx. I was just making sure you were okay…” he said cautiously, propibly looking for words that wouldn’t upset me more. I took a step back and walked to the kitchen.
