i'm being fickle with this.
It was raining.
Of that, Roxas was sure. The wetness seeping though his clothes was solid evidence of the fact. Everything else could well be a lie; the world may have ended days ago. Clouds had been gathering then, hadn't they? Dark, wrathful clouds; clouds that hated this city. They were angry, crying clouds. And he was walking under them (was he? he could have been standing perfectly still), idle and oblivious to the concerned murmurs of kind passers-by, ignoring the umbrellas and the cars that slowed to offer him a ride. Roxas was going somewhere, he was sure; he didn't know where, or when he would arrive. Time doesn't wait forever.
He stopped at a cafe; small and empty, save for a bored girl at the register and a sad boy with red hair, hidden away in a dark corner. The door chimed merrily as he opened it, and the girl (whose name tag proudly bore the letters K-A-I-R-I, on the off chance that anyone cared to say more than six words to her) straightened up, putting on her best smile and pretending to look busy. Roxas ignored her, walking past without the slightest glance her way; back, back to the corner, back to the brooding boy with bright hair and dark, dark clothes. He sat down, looked at the empty table between them; smiled without glancing up. "Axel."
The boy (Axel, Axel) looked at him, emotionless; was he wrong? He couldn't be wrong. He'd promised. "I'm sorry," he said, venturing a split-second look at those green, green eyes. The marks underneath were missing; his features looked incomplete without them. Axel looked surprised, somewhat amused; he didn't let his gaze linger long enough to see any more.
"What for?" he asked, reaching to tilt Roxas' face up; two fingers under his chin and the slightest of effort. That was all it ever took; Roxas melted, looked away. The slightest brush of fingertips over his lips made him freeze; his own hands moving without his consent. Grasping those treacherous fingers as he searched for the words.
"I made you wait." His lips brushed skin when he spoke; soft hands, wrapped around his own, warming the chill he hadn't noticed. Axel laughed, barely audible over the patter of the rain on the windows. Roxas realized, hazily, that his hair was in his eyes, dripping on Axel's fingers. Neither of them minded.
"Not long." He grinned, his grip on Roxas' hand tightening. "I would've waited longer." Axel stood up, pulling Roxas with him; both hands held captive. And out they went, past K-A-I-R-I, watching them wistfully, through the happily jingling door and out, out into the street. They were spinning in the sea of forming puddles; Axel leaning in close to whisper over the rain: "For you? Forever." His lips brushed skin and soaking hair; he smiled. "You didn't need to rush." Roxas didn't stop to think how cliché it was when Axel kissed him; life doesn't wait.
"But I'm glad you did."