Disclaimer: I don't own Kingdom Hearts or any associated properties.
There was a note on the bedside table when Roxas woke. The bed felt too cold, as though a regular presence within it had left. Sunlight crept into the bedroom – adorned in posters of bands, movies, anything you could think of – and slowly graced a head of golden locks, mussed from a long night of sleep. The young man in the bed reached out blindly, his hand landing on the note, and he hesitated before picking it up.
As he read it, his eyes were overcome with a torrent of tears. Soft cries of "No!" passed through his lips. He could feel himself shaking, but it seemed distant, like it was happening to someone else, someone who was far away.
The note slipped from his hand and floated to the floor, landing gracefully. Roxas stood shakily, his foot landing on the note and twisting it until it tore neatly in two. Hand on the wall, the blond slowly made his way to the bathroom, where he slid to the floor, back on the door, and wept.
"I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid his bus has already left. Would you like to purchase a ticket?"
Quietly thanking the girl in front of him and declining her offer, Roxas turned away and practically ran to his car.
That was it. There was no getting him back, no apologizing to be done, no glorious make-up sex, no early morning cuddles, no shy glances at one another from across the table as they ate. No more... anything.
The sounds of the bus were but a distant echo to the redhead who sat in the back. He was too focused on his warring emotions to notice the baby crying two rows in front of him, or the loud music coming from the almost comically large headphones of the man next to him. He was in his own little world, surrounded by self-pity and self-hate.
It shouldn't have ended like this. It wasn't fair to either of them. Then again, Axel was never really known for his fairness, or his kindness. On the other hand, he wasn't really known for being depressed, either.
The redhead left the bus at the next station, intent on returning. He would hitchhike; hell, he would run if he had to.
It was late when the blue Chevy stopped in front of the apartment complex Axel had made so many memories in. Those memories had threatened to tear him apart on the way there. He thanked the man who had given him a ride and threw a handful of money at him, rushing to the entrance. He took the three flights of stares three at a time, his heart screaming in his ears.
At last, at long last, he stood in front of apartment 13. The apartment he shared with his lover, his Roxy. The apartment they'd fallen in love with. The apartment everything had fallen apart in.
The door was locked, but that wasn't unusual at this time of night – the neighborhood wasn't a very nice one, to be frank – so Axel fumbled in his pocket for his keys. His breaths were short, and his hands were shaking. It took him two minutes to get the right key, and another full minute to unlock the door. The second he'd turned the key, he ran inside, the door banging on the wall.
Roxas's body lay in the center of the living room. His wrists were torn open, blood soaked into the carpet beneath him.
He was too late.