There was a time when Roxas cared, when he truly cared with the heart of a romantic. But this had gone too far for his liking.

For far too long, he'd let the man with spiky red hair by the name of Axel take advantage of him, and he'd had enough. Although to be honest, the blond was in his uttermost moment of weakness when he had met said redhead. He let him into his life, have his way with him, and then just walk away like nothing happened.

Roxas felt responsible, but maybe it was just the alcohol he was pouring down his throat at the moment that talked him into having common sense for once – he wasn't really sure. He wasn't ever really sure of anything – except for the growing ball of hurt, regret, anxiety and residue of what one might call 'care' growing in the pit of his stomach. It made him feel sick.

One time someone told him that drinking water made stomach pain go away. Well, alcohol was just as good as any ol' glass of water, wasn't it? He'd hoped so. But his hope of anything fell to the table along with the few drops of liquor that hung from the tip of the bottle that Roxas held upside down. He nearly slammed his head down on the table that he just so happened to be leaning on, but a hand placed itself in the spot where Roxas's head fell.

His body jumped slightly and his eyes shot open instantly. He took a moment to process the thought that there was flesh and not hard, cold wood pressed against his forehead. He slowly turned his head to look up at the skinny arm that was owner to the hand holding his head up. That funny feeling in his stomach just kept getting funnier as his eyes hesitated, but continually scanned up and up – only to see what Roxas as a whole detested most of all.

"Axel," The blond nearly growled out, glaring at the slender-bodied redhead in his black coat, "get out of here. Your presence is not welcome around me at the moment."

The man seemed to display a cold disposition, one that showed no capacity for care, and in every fiber of his being… he truly did not care. So what kept him from dropping Roxas's head? Probably the fact that Roxas was intoxicated and wasn't capable of realizing that he could bite the cursed hand.

"Roxas…" The redhead drifted off and stared into the blond's eyes, not finding the familiar warmth that would greet him under different circumstances.

"Look as hard as you want, but it's gone." Roxas glared into Axel's eyes.

Both stared at each other, trying to find what they wanted in the others' eyes; not being able to though, they looked away. Axel took his hand away, letting Roxas's head drop with a loud thud on the table.

"Motherfucker." The blond sat up straight, holding his forehead, obviously in pain. He dreaded showing anything relating to it, knowing Axel was watching and feeding off of it.

Roxas started to sober up a bit, his head growing thicker with the constant throb of anger, only made worse by the fact that he had an oncoming hangover. He stood up slowly, staring hard into the redhead's eyes.

"You… you leave. Now." This tone that was held in the blond's voice… the other man didn't seem to recall – he'd never heard Roxas talk so coldly. He wasn't quite getting a taste of what he'd done yet, though.

"And why the hell should I?" Axel's voice was nearly just as cold, but there was no edge to it. "I'm entitled to be in this open space as much as you are. And who's going to make me leave, you?" He scoffed. "This place is abandoned, with the bittersweet smell of rotting alcohol, and you've been sitting in here for how long? I don't think you could even drive home, let alone try to make me leave."

Roxas looked away, gripping onto the edge of the chair he'd been sitting on moments earlier. He tried hard to not let any emotion show, but he soon let himself go.

Looking down, he managed to sway his hair enough to cover his face. "I-I don't understand you, Axel. Why are you so cold? What happened to you?"

"What happened to me? Absolutely nothing – I've always been this way, sweetheart. You just wanted a bad boy. I gave you what you wanted, but you refused to accept it. You created your own romance, and you're paying for it. Go play with Xion or Reno or any other person. I'm sure you could find someone who even remotely cares. I've gotten what I want out of you, darling. You should've done the same. Relationships always end. Nothing. Lasts. Forever. Commit it to your fucking memory."

And not a moment later had Roxas kicked Axel in the stomach, sending him back into the wall, which wasn't very far behind him in the first place. The blond walked over, placing a hand on the wall next to the neck of the surprised redhead. His hand was held low, and a shimmer of reflected light that shone in Axel's eye caused him to look down at said hand. Before Axel could even look down, something cold and metallic had placed itself under his chin. He heard a loud click. And from the corner of his eye, he clearly saw a gun in Roxas's hand.

"Do you know what this is, Axel?"

"Roxas, stop-"

"DO YOU KNOW WHAT THIS IS OR NOT, AXEL?" The skin by his nose was quivering and his eyes showed nothing but hatred – Axel saw this when he looked into Roxas's eyes; the redhead's own eyes widened and beads of sweat slowly formed on his temple. After a moment of silence, Roxas urged for an answer again. "Answer me, dammit." He pressed a bit harder, finally having snapped. Axel was at the point of no return, and he knew that. He just didn't really expect to be scared of the blond for once.

"I-it's a gun. A very, very cold gun." He paused for a moment, trying to search in Roxas's eyes what the blond had tried to look for in his own many times before. But it wasn't there.

Roxas moved his face close, leaning his forehead against Axel's, and spoke softly. "I never wanted to use this. I didn't even know why I bought it, but something in my gut told me I'd need it someday. Now, Axel, I really don't want to hurt you. I… I still love you, and I don't know why. Please, don't let this moment be the only time you actually show human emotion." He slowly pulled the gun away and dropped it to the floor, kicking it away.

Axel still stared at the blond, unsure of what he would do next. He wanted to leave more than anything right now.

"You know, I don't hate you. I really don't. No, because I'd have to respect you enough to hate you. Y-you're not worth my time or my energy to have to do something like that. I… I nothing you. And if the only thing you're going to do all your life is use people, then I truly feel sorry for you. Now get over yourself, put on your big boy pants, and realize that life is worth a lot more than just gaining over someone else's loss. I used to think that even Reno was worse than you, but now I see that he's a saint when I compare him to your scummy ass." The blond spit on the redhead's cheek. "A souvenir – from yours truly. Commit that to memory, bitch." And with those final words, Roxas left the building, with some pride left…

…Whereas, Axel looked down, actually feeling something for once. And he didn't like it. He turned his head to the side and slowly wiped the saliva off of his face. "I have some… thinking to do." And for once, he actually would.