There's a severe lack in cute Roxiri fics here. I'm gonna fix that. I should be working on other shit but I need to be selfish and write my favorite odd pairing. I've been gone for a minute. This is an I'm-not-dead-don't-forget-about-me update.

This fic is based off the song Run Away by dvsn.

-.-

Run Away

The bell over the door of the diner jingles for the fourth time that night, but she's no longer perking up to see if it's him entering. She, instead, continues to stare at the mug of lukewarm cocoa as she swings her coffee straw in endless circles with a gentle push and pull of her wrist. The one time she decides to be a woman and actually face her problems instead of running away and burying it beneath a ton of work, he's the one that doesn't want to fix things. How stupid she'd been to think that he would actually show up. Hopeful maybe, but still incredibly stupid. He had made it very clear that he wished her the best, but did not want to see her again. Now she feels like an idiot.

The redhead leans down to sip from the straw and cringes slightly as it hits her tongue. It's good. To her, the worst thing about breaking up has to be that the person doesn't necessarily leave when they leave. Not at first. The ghost of him is still sitting across from her, a smug look plastered on his face as he watches her. His mouth doesn't move, but she can still hear his husky, sleep-thick voice from that day.

Told you I could get you to like hot cocoa.

"I never even said I liked this," she mumbles.

The ghost grins wide, body shaking in a silent chuckle. You didn't have to. Your face says it all.

His ghost loves to torment her. Whenever she comes across something that even remotely reminds her of a good memory, he pops up and follows her until she's either sobbing or acting on a rage-filled impulse. Which brought her to a question she's been asking herself for months now: how does she feel about him? She knows she misses him…but does she still love him? Is she still angry with him, or is she sad that he suddenly felt the need to move on? Does she like him, or the idea of him? Admittedly, it would be much easier to stay with him, rather than attempt to find someone else. She'll have to start from scratch: start dating, figure him out and be patient while learning of all his quirks and habits, ask about his life views, future goals, all of the stuff that she already knew about him. But the hardest part of all that will definitely be trying not to compare her new guy to her old guy.

She doesn't want a new guy. That'll be too stressful. How can she even think of bringing a new guy into her life after spending twelve years of her life on one of the best and worst things to happen to her?

Another jingle. Her already broken heart finally succumbs to gravity and crashes to the floor with a loud clatter—wait…no…that was a glass plate. One of the workers dropped a plate of food. Hearts don't make noises like that, no need to be dramatic. She rolls her eyes at herself as the loud group of teenagers that have just entered the building follow the hostess to their booth. She remembers a time when she was once one of those loud teenagers. That was back when all of her friends were still her friends, and life outside of high school was just an urban legend told by teachers to scare students into growing up.

"Did you see that bitch roll her eyes at us? I ought to say something…"

"No, don't. She's not worth it."

"Hmph. She's lucky I'm hungry. I don't have time for it."

The redhead smirks. She isn't the least bit angry. She knows that the first voice belongs to a person who feels the need to overcompensate for their insecurities by exaggerating who they are and forcing an aggressive façade so that no one knows that they're actually dying inside, and that the second voice absolutely has to kiss her ass because she's dependent upon the first voice for whatever reason. It's a flimsy, toxic bond that won't last through the first semester of college. She would know. She's lived it.

The ghost of him inclines his head in the teens' direction with a sneer. His nose is wrinkled in anger and his nostrils flare as he exhales a breath that she can't hear. Were we that annoying when we were that young?

She smiles sadly. Of course they were. He knew that, but he still hated to be "disrespected by children" as he called it. It was one of the easiest ways to piss him off. Probably still is.

The bell jingles again. She's starting to get a headache. This time, the sound is followed by hurried footsteps, and then limbs hitting the padded seat of the booth and the table at the same time. She jumps back from her mug as a disheveled blond awkwardly straightens himself in the seat, then leans against the back of it. His chest buoys as he inhales sharp, shallow breaths, looking absolutely exhausted in his wrinkled pajamas and coat. "I didn't…see your message. I was asleep. Ah hell."

That's not right. They both have insomnia and don't even yawn until five in the morning without sleep aids.

"I thought you would have been up working on your writing or something," she grimaces, returning her hands to her mug.

He shakes his head, blond "spikes" hanging dejectedly in front of his eyes. "My girlfriend keeps nagging me about staying up past midnight, so I take sleeping pills to knock myself out early whenever she's sleeping over."

She nods, unable to take her eyes away from his dull blue ones despite the fact that the word girlfriend burns her like hellfire. "Oh."

Something in his expression shifts as his breathing slowly returns to normal. "I use the term "girlfriend" very lightly in this instance. It's casual and she knows we're not exclusive."

She forces a playful smile as she rolls her eyes. "I don't care, Roxas."

"You do care."

"I don't," she urges, gripping her mug a bit tighter.

He studies her briefly, but makes the wise decision to drop it just as quickly as he'd picked it up. "Okay," he shrugs. The light tone of his voice belies the obvious frustration resting on his features. "What's up?"

The redhead begins to stir her cocoa again, accidentally drawing his attention to it. Something like a smile appears as he returns his attention to her. Now that he's here, the script that she'd written out in her head was starting to sound dumb and unrealistic. It'd be best if she just leaves. "I wanted to talk about…what's left of us. But now that I see that there is no more us, I'll just—"

"Sit down."

Those two words chill her to the bone. Although they were barely above a whisper, she was able to recognize it as a command. The part of her that is still rightfully his shudders as she lowers herself back into her side of the booth. His stare is piercing, his breathing is even, and he is fully awake now. He has just entered what she calls No Bullshit mode. "You're not going to call me here just to run away again. Talk to me, Kairi. Why are we here?"

Kairi gulps as the tiniest beads of sweat form on her palms. "I just want closure."

"I know. I purposefully denied you that because—"

"Oh, so you do exist," the waitress butts in with a playful smirk. Kairi still doesn't recognize her from when she brought over the cocoa. She must be new. "Would you both like something to eat, or will it be another cocoa?"

Roxas smiles politely. The frustration doesn't leave, but Kairi is sure she's the only one who can see it. "A short stack would be nice."

"Whipped cream?"

"Yes. And a strawberry."

"Nothing for me," Kairi says. Soon, the waitress is off to put in their order. She sighs and takes another sip of her drink. "You were saying?"

He huffs, glaring off to the side. "I lost my train of thought. What was the last thing I said?"

"You purposely denied me closure…?"

Roxas snaps his fingers as he sits up. "Right. I didn't want you to have closure. And I still don't."

"And why is that?"

"Because I'm not done with you." And he says it like it should be the most obvious thing in the world. "Honestly, are we ever really done with each other? We fight, break up, and get right back together all the time. No matter how hard we fight it, we always wind up back where we started: here, in this diner."

That was true. The reason she'd asked him to meet in this particular diner is because this is like a second home to her. This is where they'd first gotten close back in high school, where they broke up many times before, where he'd proposed to her, where they had broken off the engagement, everything. Every one of their most important life events happened here. This diner. This booth. They couldn't escape it if they tried. "So then why tell me all that stuff about me moving on and you being absolutely done?"

"I am absolutely done. Have you noticed that we're trapped in a cycle? It's a very toxic cycle that I really don't want to continue. It's not healthy for either one of us and I want to end it. I'm done with all the bullshit that we used to put up with because we were in love—"

"Were?"

Roxas exhales deeply. "…Are. That isn't the point. When I said I was done, I meant with the relationship that we had. Not with you. Does that make sense?"

She slowly shakes her head, a small frown pulling at her mouth. Of course it doesn't make sense. How can you admit to being in love with someone, but still say that you're done with the relationship? How can you stand not being in a relationship with someone you have feelings for?

His fingers drum against the table top as his brow furrows. A low, contemplative hum rumbles in his throat and his eyes squint. "I'm trying to put this as delicately as I can because I really don't want to hurt you."

That's not going to work. If she's learned anything from their past experiences, it's that sugarcoating things only leads to misunderstandings, which quickly snowball into explosive arguments where both parties ended up shouting things that they don't really mean in order to hurt one another. Thinking about it now…they really were in a toxic cycle. Just because she learned to put up with and move past the bigger issues didn't mean it wasn't bad for her. Him either.

Her point is that sugarcoating will just cause another mess. "We're both adults, Roxas. Whatever you have to say, just say it."

Irritation slowly morphs into discomfort. A now curious Kairi straightens up as she studies him, attempting to get answers from him before they even leave his mouth. He wets his lips as he shifts in his seat. It looks more like squirming to the redhead. "I…pushed you away because of Naminé."

If Kairi thought she was chilled before, it was nothing compared to what she feels now. She hasn't heard of or spoken that name in years and neither has Roxas. A lump forms in her throat as he stares at the table. "I thought I was over it but I'm not. I'm not," he whispers as he shakes his head. "I love you with everything that I am, but sometimes I…I can't even stand to look at you. We—"

The waitress is back now, setting his order down in front of him. He snaps his mouth shut as she pops the cap on the syrup. "Say when."

The former couple watches as the waitress drizzles the topping over the not so perfectly shaped pancakes. The small puddle barely starts to dribble down the sides as he says, "That'll do." The pretty blonde keeps a smile on her face as she squirts the whipped cream on in the diner's famous fashion and gently places the strawberry in it. "Thanks."

"Enjoy, darling!"

Kairi contemplates leaving a bigger tip than usual.

Neither the blond nor the redhead attempt to speak. Roxas simply grabs the napkin wrapped utensils and unwraps them while she sips at her now cold cocoa. It's awkward and tense, especially with Naminé's name hanging in the air like a dark cloud over their booth. She fights back tears as he slowly—she's almost sure he's doing it on purpose—places the strawberry aside and slices into each pancake one small triangle at a time. She knows better than to say anything at this point. He needs time to get himself together because he's close to crying as well. He never liked being that vulnerable in public and she completely understands that. More importantly, she respects it.

Giggles erupt from the booth a few feet behind her, and it's like nails on a chalkboard. She hates it because it almost feels like they're laughing at her, which they most certainly would. Very few high school girls care about anything other than themselves, and based on the behavior of that one girl from earlier, she assumes this of them. They're probably discussing boys, the Kardashians, and other topics of superficial conversation while they label themselves as deep and mature.

The scrape of Roxas' utensils against his plate brings her attention back to him, though she's not sure it ever left him in the first place. For the past decade, he's pretty much been the only thing she could think about. Is that healthy? Probably not. But when a single person comes into your life and proves to you that they're determined to stay, only to go back on their word several years later, it shatters something inside you. It's gut-wrenching. She would even go as far as to call this betrayal. He promised he would always be there for her. He isn't allowed to break his promise. Roxas—the only guy that has ever meant anything to her—is not allowed to break his promise.

Despite moving so slowly, he winds up finishing his food quickly and pushes his plate aside. Kairi removes her hands from the mug and places them in her lap. As she does this, Roxas sits up a little straighter, folds his arms over the table, and tucks his chin into his chest. He doesn't look the least bit comfortable, and she braces herself for the words that are about to come out of his mouth.

"I'm not over it," he repeats in a voice as grave as a cemetery. She can't see his eyes through his hair, but she knows they're shut as tight as physically possible. "I'm sorry…but I'm not strong enough to love you and mourn her at the same time. Not when part of me still blames you."

Kairi gapes, and everything starts to hit her in waves between heartbeats. The force of the shock making it almost impossible to inhale or exhale. Her lungs burn as her mouth twitches and trembled helplessly. Nausea forms in her stomach and upsets the balance of all her bodily systems at once, and she almost gags once it reaches its peak. It hits a downward slope and morphs into a cold agony. The tears that had been clinging to the very edge of her bottom lids lose their balance and tumble clumsily down her face. Then down it goes. She forces herself to swallow as disgust—different from the nausea—treads through her without bothering to clean the dirty footprints it leaves. "You…blameme," Kairi whispers, voice terribly unsteady. Disgust turns into something hot and lethal on it's way up to the next crest. This wave is so powerful that it shakes her. "For my miscarriage?"

Roxas' head shoots up, eyes wide and wild with panic. "Please calm down and let me explain."

"Fuck. You," she spits. It's full of venom and hatred. He doesn't try to stop her as she grabs her coat and stands. He calls out to her once—twice, but she continues down the aisle and through the exit door. Kairi is still aware that she hasn't paid the bill, and contemplated driving off to leave Roxas to deal with the bill. Unfortunately, no matter how angry she is, she no longer has it in her to be that spiteful.

But man is she angry. And hurt. He could have broken every bone in her body and that still would have hurt less than this. How dare he? She isn't completely over it either. Does that give her the right to go around appointing blame to people who are completely innocent? Around that time, Roxas was one of the biggest sources of her stress. She can just as easily blame him for the miscarriage and make him feel like shit. Damn him. Damn him.

Kairi, fighting the urge to start pacing, decides to sit in her car. Her body trembles as she curls into herself and begins to sob. She had been so excited for Naminé's arrival. The both of them had been. Without warning, her body started to reject the idea of a baby…and then the baby itself. Not an embryo, but the child that she had carried for almost give months. Roxas has every right to be upset, but he doesn't know how much it hurts her. He can't possibly know what it feels like to feel something so amazing growing inside of you, to develop such a deep emotional attachment to it, and then have it ripped away by fate or destiny or the universe or Godwhichever one of them was responsible for this, she was not happy with them.

Dark thoughts begin to fill her head, one toxic strand at a time. She could show him how it felt. She could go out of her way to make sure that he feels both sinking despair and an emptiness worse than the largest chasm one can find. In fact, what's really stopping her from finding one of his old sleazy college buddies and letting him impregnate her? What's stopping her from calling that child Naminé? Starting a family? Moving to a place where Roxas would never find her?

Her hands curl into fists as the organ in her chest skips a beat as if to answer her question.

You actually have a heart. You care when others pretend to. The ghost whispers the memory in her ear. Funny how his ghost always seems to care more than the actual human does.

"Fuck you," she murmurs.

Ha, you already did. She remembers the smirk in his voice from way back when. This was around college. They were discussing their relationship in the diner. In the booth. Imagine if you had actually chosen Sora over me. That'd be weird, right?

No. She'd probably be happier.

The passenger door opens noisily, emitting that annoying pinging sound that cars tend to do. The ghost fades away as he sits, causing the car to bounce on its wheels due to the added weight. Once the door shuts, the pinging stopped. "I paid. You only had one measly drink anyway."

"Get out of my car."

"Not until you let me explain."

Sucking up the last of her pride, she sits up and furiously wipes the moisture from her face. "Fine. Explain, then get out of my car."

Roxas, irritation leaking back to his features, pushes a hand through his wild hair. "See, this is why I didn't want to do this. Now you hate me."

"Well no shit," she growls. "I don't see how you don't hate yourself."

"I do!" he cries. It almost sounds like pleading. "I fucking hate myself for this, Kairi. That's why I don't want to see you or be with you. And I didn't want you to know because I thought if I took some time away and…and fixed myself that I could come back and do better because I know you don't deserve this."

Kairi scoffs and shakes her head. Fresh tears are forming. She hates herself for not having the strength to make it stop. "That sounds like an excuse."

"Maybe…maybe it is," Roxas shrugs. Silence takes over the small space. She refuses to look at him, to acknowledge him or his words, to acknowledge that anything had ever happened between them. What she finds terrifying is the fact that she doesn't know if she's sitting next to a stranger or an enemy. Because he most definitely is not an ally. Whatever he is, she wants him gone. He can take everything that belongs to him: any photos, gifts, keepsakes, borrowed clothes, and his annoying ghost.

"It is," he says softly. "And I'm sorry for that. But I mean it when I say I want to come back and be better for you. I am not done with you, Kairi."

She gives him a sidelong glance. "If you think I'm going to sit around and wait for you—"

"I don't think that." Roxas leans towards her just the slightest bit. Beneath the rage and the hurt, her body wants to react to him. She wants to lay her head on his chest and pretend that everything is okay again. They could go back to high school or college, just for a moment. "Can you look at me?"

She doesn't want to, and yet she does. She turns to him. Immediately, she notices the deep sorrow and pain in his tired, puffy eyes. It occurs to her that yes, Roxas is ignorant to the pain that she feels, but that doesn't mean he isn't feeling his own version of it. He's never looked at her like this before. Kairi decide that no, he is not an enemy.

He reaches up to cradle her face with both hands. It feels the same as it always has, except his hands are shaking. "You can see, date, talk to, or fuck whoever you want while I'm gone. I don't care. But don't you dare let anyone touch your heart because it's mine." His voice breaks as he says this, and the man she loved…loves breaks down before her. Not in sobs, but in spirit. His eyes no longer shine the same, and his awkward smile looks painful. Somehow, he still manages to make it sound like a command. "I will come back, and I will be so much better. Okay? I promise."

"What if I don't want you to come back?" Kairi immediately regrets saying this as she witnesses the blood drain from his face. Damn it, she has every right to be upset with him, and yet she can't even find the anger that was just there a few moments ago. So she attempts to amend it. "What if you realize you don't want me during our time apart?"

"I doubt that'll happen. I've made too many promises that I intend to keep. I'm coming back."

It sounds stupid. It all sounds so stupid and pretty and fake. But then she remembers that he has never broken any of his promises to her. It gives her hope.

"Okay," she relents. "Go. Do what you have to do." Roxas nods, but it doesn't look like he wants to leave. He leans forward, she leans back. "Please don't. I can't kiss you knowing you'll go home and kiss someone else."

He nods again. "Sorry. I'll…go."

And he does. Roxas takes one last look at her, as if trying to memorize every detail of her face, before stepping down from the car to go to his own. He's gone.

I'll let you know when I make it home.

But he forgot to take his ghost with him.

-.-

So uh…yeah. This was supposed to be romantic. I don't know what happened. Whatever. If you've made it this far, thank you so much for reading. I seriously appreciate all the reviews, favorites, and follows from you guys.