a is for angel
mafia au. akuroku. shall either stand on its own or be part of a series of 26 oneshots.
disclaimed.
i'm not a religious man
The strangest thing about you, I decide one off day, is your lack of interests. As a fellow mafia employee, I held to the belief that one should have other past times besides going out, completing a mission, and holing up in your room or the clock tower I drag you to. Soon enough, I begin to follow and pressure you to do some extracurricular activities. This ended with you hiding in the library and discovering religion.
Angels, technically.
You try to tell me they're real, and fascinating. I try to tell you that they're hogwash and that libraries were only good for wall sex.
You disagree with the first, but I bring you around to the second.
It becomes like your second hide out, next to the peaceful clock tower that rests in the Twilight Town district. When you're not slipping around on a mission, you're nestled in some crook of the library, surrounded by religious texts. I have to laugh when I kiss you and I taste their aged paper resting on your skin.
No one understands your intrigue. Not even I. Demyx kinda screws up his face and cocks his head and decides that a mafia member being religious is kind of an oxymoron. I call him a moron. You frown and Zexion tells us to keep it down.
Your belief is almost contagious I discover. It pulses from your body and weaves into your voice when you discuss it with me, the forever skeptic. I never try to explain my side, instead I nose your jaw and press my fingers to your wrist and decide to show you the other uses of one's mouth.
You're never exactly impressed but you never voice a complaint. Unlike me, I never let you pray in peace. Not even when blood, my blood, it starting to block my throat and smoke is softly curling in the air.
"Stop it." I choke out before spitting, copper heavy in my mouth. "Stop it. Praying won't help me, Roxas."
You shake your head, ignoring me as your lips tremble and start to form more useless words. Your hands, they're are stained red with the blood you're desperately trying to stop with nothing more than unheard words and desperation, press down harder on my side. I frown and attempt to swat you. There's no need for your body to be imbrued with my death as death had blemished my soul enough for the both of us.
"Don't leave me, Axel." you beg, heaven tinted eyes beginning to blur with slow forming tears. I smile, an ugly sight I was sure, and press my fingers into your wrist, my memories of you going with the touch.
"Sorry." I whisper before I give a weak chuckle, a dribble of blood falling from my lips. "Guess it's my time. Take it up with God if you have a problem."
Another shake of the head is all I get from that. No laughter, not even a smile. Maybe Death was taking your sense of humour away with me, which would be a shame. You needed that sliver of humour, someone needed to laugh at Demyx's antics with me gone.
My fingers press harder when I hear a crack. Belief wasn't about to keep that beam stable, so I release your wrist to push at your chest instead.
"Go, Roxas. This place isn't going to hold up for long." your baby blues widen, and you cling even harder, the word no playing on repeat. It's my turn to shake my head. "Don't argue with me, not this time, please, Roxas."
The words don't leave your death in my hands as well. I have enough people coming with me start in my head but are released as a sigh of relief when you finally nod. I don't know why you finally agree, maybe it's becaue you still think God has a plan for all of us, or the smoke is starting to affect your head, but I still grin and mumble, "Let's meet again. In the next life." even though heaven knows I won't be there to greet you when Death finally takes your hand.
but, honey, i'll pray for you