Expired cigarettes and off whiskey never seem to work together- actually anything past the due date is considered crap, huh? I wonder how all those filled up milk cartons feel going to waste.
Axel brought another crusty cigarette to his lips, lubricating the tip of it with his tongue before setting the toy on fire. The rim of his eyes were stained red, his hands shaking as he struggled to release a puff of smoke for the air to feed on. It was barely morning, the moon still drooping over the clouds, and the redhead could hardly keep himself contained. The skin protecting his flesh burned with frustration and resentment, a choked scream bubbling up within his throat as he crunched down on a newly lit cigarette.
"Fuck."
He brushed his forehead against the palm of his hand, an exasperated sigh escaping his lungs as he began to cradle himself. He wanted to wipe away all the pain, the anger, and most importantly, Roxas. Axel could only feel hatred gripping at his chest, he was unsure whether this loathing was directed towards himself or the blonde boy's sweet metallic features. All that he was certain of was that it fucking hurt.
It fucking hurt to know that it was his own bare hands that destroyed the once sweetheart of a boy Roxas was, to know that there was nothing in the whole universe that would cause him to come crawling back. Roxas was gone, and that was it. Why the hell would he want to return to a life of misery and anguish anyways? Axel had only caused him to suffer, nothing more than that. Yet, he couldn't help but weep in a feeble arrangement with that small spark of hope that refused to burn out within him.
"What's the fucking point?!"
His scar stitched fist slammed against the coarse surface of the concrete beneath him.
"Get—your—fucking—act—together!"
The pathetic wheezes his chest made as they sucked in a lungful of air and tears only seemed to irritate Axel more. His wristwatch ticked over to 8am, the ringing of his mobile alarm filled the abrupt silence whilst the street below him began to flutter with activity.
"—Thank fucking god that I'm the only one with access to this rooftop." The redhead spat as he brushed back his flame dipped mane. His phone continued to vibrate deep within his pocket, notifying him that work was going to commence soon. He gathered a few threads of composure before conducting himself towards the rooftop's door. The slick turn of the doorknob was left rugged and battered after Axel had bashed it into its place before turning left onto the staircase.
He came to a halt at the edge of the last step, running a digit across the sleek blade that rested within the depths of his back pocket. Powder dusted lids fell upon his jade-coated optics as he drew in a shaky breath and relaxed the fingertips of his body.
"Got it memorised, Roxas?"
