It hurt.

It might not hurt as much for Demyx as it might for someone with a fully formed emotional centre, but it hurt all the same.

The world being destroyed and consumed by darkness didn't even phase him. He put his hand to his chest, but he's not one to linger here in this illusion. He leaned on the power of his amulet to help and summoned up his indifference.

Demyx stepped forward, pushing forward towards him. "So. What." He bit angrily. He could definitely be cold and callous when he wanted to be and he was going to pull that here.

"Your world ended? So did mine. You're never going to fix it." The only sign of his lingering discomfort was his hand on his chest. "Can't change the past. You can only go forward and none of us are going to let you drag us into your misery. We've all got our own. Stop messing with our heads to make yourself feel better." He fell into step next to Xue Yang, holding his sitar firmly in his free hand. There was a slight tremble with how hard he was holding onto it, gripping it to ground himself.