Uhm, I guess is the beginning of a long, long drabble. Or, well, one of the many drabbles I plan to be putting up. Anywhere from between fifty to a whole hundred! I've never done this before, but I for real love this pairing. Tell me what you think, why don't you?

Sora would often stare out into the ocean, eyes glazed over with what some people called lust. If a person decided to walk in front of him, or wave their hand in front of his face, he wouldn't budge an inch. If one decided to press their hand to his heart, to be sure that he was still living, all they would feel were the sorrowful cries of a boy lost in the depths of his own, traitorous mind.

Everytime he looked to his side, the brunette would see him, Riku in all his glory. And he would laugh as he reached over, just ready to touch the man, feel him. Make sure that this was reality. But once again, that lingering voice, the wish he held onto so tightly, would diminish with this simple action. The smile would fade, and he would stare. It was here again today.

No longer did he reach out. No. He listened. Listened to the voice that was billions of miles away, cut off from him. Sora listened as Riku spoke, telling him they would one day be together again. And he smiled, the bittersweet sensation of lingering hope filling his lungs as he breathed. He was alive. He was alive, and Riku would always be here with him, in some way.