Alright, I originally made this as a drabble for my 100 moods challenge in my Gaia journal. If you want more awesomeness (beware of a -Man OC/Allen pairing, mind you) like this, go check out my journal. My username's xo indigold. ;D
DISCLAIMER: KH2, Roxas, Axel, and the idea of sea salt ice cream belong to Square Enix and Disney. If only I owned Axel and Roxas... 3 ~
Notes: Not-quite-vague mentions of sex, implied yaoi. Don't like, don't read. God dammit. D
Winner
Red spikes are flattened against a soft white pillow as their owner stares at the ceiling, contemplating the events of late. Thoroughly disheartened (if he even had a heart) to say the least, he thinks back to their common factor, when his problems began.
"You can't turn on the Organization! You get on their bad side and they'll destroy you!"
The quickly-retreating figure whom he addresses stops, turns only his head. The contempt in his sneer is stunning, even from a distance.
"No one would miss me." With that, he is gone, but the redhead isn't done talking.
"That's not true...!
... I would."
It's been ages since that night, since that terrible parting of ways.
"How did this happen?" he asks no one in particular, sitting up.
It is then that he sees the envelope on the windowsill. Getting up and plucking it from the ledge, he turns it in his fingers before opening it.
Inside is a popsicle stick, the scent of sea salt ice cream still just barely discernible. On the end of one side, printed in big, mockingly cheerful bubble lettering, is the word "WINNER".
---------
He saw him today. It had to be him. In that place where they had worked together so many times, even saved their 'friend', he found him.
Being what he was, it was easy to conceal any true emotion he 'felt', but the raw, overjoyed excitement coursing through his veins was hard to ignore. Those blue (dear gods, blue) eyes that had laughed at him, glared at him, beheld him, devoured him whole, time and time again; that scruffy head of golden hair he had run his hands through, ruffled, played with, pulled on, so often; that body he had abused, desecrated, claimed, worshipped... so, so very many times. It had to be him, the one he cared for, cared about him... the one he loved.
And yet... not.
He didn't remember- of course he wouldn't. That was to be expected.
But, expected or not, he watched as his former love stood there, growing confused, until he cried out for his friends.
His name wasn't among them.
Now the owner of the forgotten (hell, it wasn't even his true name, what did he care?) name lies in bed, dejected and defeated. He speaks to the empty, stagnant air, though the confirmation of what he already knows is hardly necessary or wanted.
"The Roxas I know and love is long gone."
Axel goes to sleep then, feeling more like a Nobody than he has in a long time.
