A/N: Quick little oneshot. :) I'm almost done with the first chapter of my new multi-chapter fanfic, so be expecting it soon!
Warning: Cussing. Yeah, that's enough…
Disclaimer: I don't own anything…yet.
Dedications: To my LittleWhiteLiesSing and Kunoichi121. I love you both to pieces! And Kuno-chan, I hope things are getting better where you live…and maybe you can come visit me here and we can go shopping at Hello Kitty stores. :D
Full Summary: One boy wanted desperately to leave. One boy had a sense of adventure that took him everywhere and anywhere. Both boys didn't really care about their surroundings. In retrospect, who would?
Floppy old white Vans slapped their way across the slippery sidewalk, occasionally kicking a rock or two along the way. His striped hood kept flying off his head because of the wind, forcing him to clutch it down with one half-gloved hand by his left ear (which was pierced possibly once, twice, thrice; he never kept track.), and his other hand was sandwiched between the fabric in his jeans pocket. Rain wouldn't stop hammering down and soaking him in places that really ought to be soaked at this time of night. A scratched up iPod persuaded him to keep walking; motivating him with a random playlist of who-knows-what; but who cares?
He certainly didn't.
He couldn't recall the last time he cared about someone, or something, for that matter. Nobody was really there for him, or cared about him, in that case. Even better for him to leave, right?
Wrong. If there was a buzzer nearby, the game show host would unquestionably be pressing his palm down on it, telling him he got the question wrong, better luck next time, and have a nice day.
Truthfully, he forgot why he left in the first place.
He forgot a lot of things. Bits and scraps of information came and went right past him, never wanting to stick around for a while, like loose leaf on a windy afternoon.
But to Roxas, it really didn't matter.
All that really mattered to him at that time was getting away from the rain as soon as possible; it kept mussing his hair.
He always had that sense of adventure; never stayed in one place for too long, always did the things nobody dared to do, and tried his best to stand out among the crowds and crowds of people. He was just cool like that.
Sometimes that got bothersome after a while. Other people were hurt by his sudden disappearances. Now and again he even got mad at himself for leaving a place he particularly liked. But that was acceptable. Because there were always new places that would welcome him with metaphorically open arms.
So why the hell was he lying down in the middle of the road? It was a good thing cars don't drive in this area.
Not to mention, it was raining cats and dogs and those damn animals didn't plan on letting up anytime soon.
He wasn't sure why he was here either; in hindsight, it probably wasn't a good idea to leave in the first place. Quite frankly, he was fond of the family that had let him stay. But he felt so trapped by the quaint little cottage, the queen-sized beds, and the queer Retriever that enjoyed sleeping at the foot of his bed.
Those were a lot of Q's in one breath.
But to Axel, it didn't really matter.
The solidity of the road was finally catching up to him, and he was pretty sure he'd have a cold by morning.
But, then again, who cares? He closed his eyes and let the darkness engulf him.
It wasn't a strange sight to see the man lying down in the middle of the road, but he supposed it wasn't normal either. To find someone in the road in pouring rain (and sleeping, as well) could mean two things:
This guy was really fucked up in the head, or
Well, Roxas couldn't think of a second hypothesis.
Roxas decided to go with the former.
Staring at the sleeping figure, Roxas decided this guy didn't look too shabby. Sure, the college-embroidered hoodie did strike him back for a couple seconds (think about it: what kind of crazy fellow would even be accepted at a college?), but once you got down to the red hair it really didn't matter. He spent a decent amount of time pondering over the fact if this red hair was indeed natural. The man's face looked almost too peaceful in his slumber, as if he were dead. Luckily, the slow, even breathing convinced Roxas otherwise. Torn up skinny jeans clung to the man's legs like there was no tomorrow; black Vans that were obviously stepped on by other Vans, shown by the footprints it left; faded orange letters reading "HBU" sewed onto his faded black sweatshirt. A smile graced his features, a strikingly beautiful one, at that. His red hair was splayed in all directions, almost like a halo.
It was on that rainy night that Roxas decided he kind of liked halos, and he decided to sit with the mysterious man until he woke up. Right in the middle of the road by the abandoned corner bakery and deli.
The formerly steady pace of pouring rain began to slow down, conducted into a light drizzle, decrescendo-ing into a pitter-patter. It woke Axel up, the rain tickling his cheeks. He opened his unnaturally green eyes slowly, adjusting to the dimness of the light, and the shadow blocking out most of the glow from a nearby streetlamp.
Wait, what shadow?
Axel quickly sat up, blinking the sleep away from his eyes. Standing in front of him was a blond boy, small in stature, but from what Axel could see, big in attitude. His blue eyes were narrowed as he tilted his head, hands on hips, and sneered,
"What the hell are you doing?"
It was late. It was at least two in the morning, according to Axel's internal clock. Axel simply could have asked the same thing to the boy, in an equally meaner tone, but it was late. And the way Blondie emphasized "hell" was almost amusing. Almost. The kid's voice got all high-pitched, almost like he wasn't used to blending in such foul language. So he settled on something, well, nicer, per se.
"Well hello to you too, Sunshine," Axel looked up with a tired, goofy grin, his hand (covered in asphalt) stretched out to the boy.
Sure, it wasn't the best he could come up with; but hey, it was late.
And a half-gloved hand came back in his direction, a soft no-teeth smile placed on the blonde's face.
The half-gloved hand met with the filthy one, a milestone to what was to come next.
A/N: Oh, would ya look at that. :D It seems that I have gotten writer's block…and this will now become a possible two-shot or three-shot! Eheh… (^ u ^);; Sorry about that, you guys. But, yeah. Let me know what you think if you'd like. (: See you soon!