Sting
A/N: Okay, my first drama, non-cracky, more-than-one-chapter, AU fic. I feel proud.
Summary: Roxas' best friend Naminé goes missing, and he takes drastic measures to bring her home safely. But when this includes joining a crime ring and befriending a mysterious gangster named Axel, the perils only increase for everyone involved. Rated T for swearing in the following chapters and a spot o' underage drinking. And other healthy, wholesome things.
Prologue – Only Dancing
Lights spun in a dizzying dance across the room, mirroring the people on the floor. Arms, chests and lips pressed together in a frenetic waltz of teen passion. Linking limbs and orbiting each other, the dancers laughed merrily with their heads thrown back before colliding again, paying no mind to anyone else save for their partner. The shy wallflower sprouting in the corner had no place in it.
She watched meekly as her older sister, every bit as bold as her red locks hinted, danced with a cute boy, her boyfriend, supposedly. She tangled her fingers in his hair and dug her nails into his back, as though it was perfectly natural to behave so obscenely, moaning and gasping when they hadn't even bothered to take their clothes off yet.
Don't be such a prude, Nam, her sister had laughed that morning, mocking her when she squirmed uncomfortably at her sister's description of the popular dance routine sweeping the clubs. It's only dancing.
The wallflower blinked back embarrassed tears and smoothed down her pale skirt, feeling like the most virginal girl in the room and ashamed of it, when she ought to have been proud. She scanned the room, searching for the only boy she could count on to dance with her properly. She took a step forward, preparing to dive into the mayhem in search of that boy when someone almost threw her forward roughly.
"Excuse me."
She spun, hands at her hair, her lips, smoothing down her skirt yet again, as though it had rumpled with the effort of standing still. "Oh, uh, I'm sorry," she mewed, stepping back so she could meet the eyes of the much-taller man standing behind her. "I should've-"
"I am the one who must apologize," he interrupted, smiling and resting a gentle hand on her arm as he smoothly flipped his fuchsia hair out of his face, revealing a rather unremarkable visage and cold blue eyes. "At the same time, I won't lament seeing your lovely face, my dear…?" He arched his eyebrows as his hair fell back in his face, reminding the girl that she was obligated to respond.
"Na-Naminé," she stammered as he steered her slowly into the crowd. While her mysterious partner did not cajole her into the same routine everyone else was following, Naminé felt just as uncomfortable with his hands on her shoulder and at her waist in a formal waltz. She reluctantly draped both arms around his neck, having to stand on her tiptoes to do so. As they stood there, swaying gently and swirling slowly to avoid colliding with the other couples, he asked, "I'm assuming you have a second name, Naminé?"
Looking back on this night, she knew that this was where she went wrong.
"Glen. Naminé Glen."
The man's dark eyes widened, and his gentle hand grew steely against her skin. Naminé tried to subtly shrug him off, but his grip tightened to the brink of pain as he drew her into his chest, smothering her scream.
"It's an honor, Naminé," he drawled, a lethal smile staining his lips. "Shall we dance?"
A/N: Eerie, no? I think you, the reader, are smart enough to figure out what just happened. And don't worry, no one gets seriously injured in the making of this story…except for the people who get wasted in the second chapter…
Hee.