Disclaimer: I do not own Kingdom Hearts. If I did, I would be a happy person. Seriously. And Kairi would not exist. Moving on.

"Lexington", A Kingdom Hearts Fanfiction

Roxas stayed unusually still this quiet afternoon in California, the broken air conditioner blowing in warm summer air and reminding him that this was only the beginning of the newest heat wave. Shit. There was nothing like a Starbucks cup of coffee this time of day, followed by a brief cigarette break on the corner to avoid his spouse's leers. Namine, his current wife of three years almost, was probably in the bedroom reading the newest release of her favorite romantic comedy series. It was nothing more than a perfect example of a typical day in the lives of the young married couple.

Marriage was a complicated thing in his eyes. It was about dedication as far as he knew, and he'd stayed dedicated to her for a long time. She was nothing short of a model for a teenage magazine as far as appearance; She was the woman he planned to marry since his high school days. Her blonde hair and blue eyes were the image of the perfect American dream. Now if only they had the "biiiig house with the white painted picket fence"! He himself was nothing more than a short man, the same height as his wife, no less, and even bared the eye color. Other people said they were meant for each other.

He wasn't so sure about such a thing.

Roxas was a very honest man, growing up under a house of respectful, honest men and women (also a house where women did the housework and men worked for the money). He was bold with his choice of wording, and when he thought something was wrong, he spoke on it. Going on this logic, he spoke on things when he felt something was wrong due to hunches.

Maybe he wasn't as sharp with this as he used to be because he's been having this hunch for weeks. He felt as though things with the blonde haired angel could be better. There was always room for improvement and couples should always take one step at a time, but he could not ignore this feeling. They've been married for three years! He should be able to talk to her about anything, even problems with the relationship. However, he wouldn't be able to handle the sad gaze of the beauty. He would most likely feel his heart melting at the poor sight.

His doubt began about four weeks ago. It was his daily visit to Starbucks, and he just ordered the same coffee as any other day. He was only singing the newest song that was popular in California and picking at the pimple he'd gotten from the oil he hadn't washed off. He was never expecting to see the unfamiliar sight of the man that marched through the door, licking his labret and laughing boisterously at nothing but his own mental state. Roxas knew he was on something that made him giddy and he only glanced away, disgusted with the sight. He was just another drugged up fool in this city.

But his hair was so brilliant that the blonde couldn't look away for more than a few moments. They say that the color red travel the farthest, and he could only wonder if that was why he was so captivating in the first place. He was nothing to look at and yet so much to see. Tall, skinny legs carrying his high ass down toward the counter, he could see his features weren't American. To match his detailed arm tattoos curving around the delicately scarred arm, he had two on his face that made him question his sanity. Roxas was no longer captivated, but rather intrigued.

"Let me get a coffee, black." He spoke, and the blonde was more than aware of his talking. He spoke as though he was on Cloud 9, his smirk swooning the cashier, and him as well. He was right about his assumptions, the redhead was indeed very high but that didn't steer him away. He may have been the type Roxas would stay away from, but he couldn't seem to. It took nothing but eye contact to initiate what was to be a long two hours. Oh, how those emerald eyes told him a story of childhood's ruins and screamed of dependency on nonprescription drugs.

"Fuck, Ax " Roxas found himself saying a good hour and a half later that day. He sent his wife a text telling her he would be late home for work (a generic excuse, but if done right, it can save lives) and he was thrown on a torn up bed with sheets stained with sex under an animal of some sort. He was groaning and snarling much like one, and Roxas couldn't do much more than moan in response to his rough technique. He only allowed myself to think of this action once as well as its later conflicts before he lit his cigarette and had it snatched away in place for mary jane. The rest was a haze of relaxation and butterflies.

Bringing himself out of the fond memory, Roxas coughed while hearing the laughter he shared with the redhead that day, realizing that now was as good as any time to get up and smoke his cancer stick. Too much was on his mind lately, especially that day. Marriage all of a sudden didn't seem too fun, and the man he was with before who called himself Axel was more excitement than he had in high school while skipping class. Something told him things would be getting harder. After all, he was raised an honest man, and he couldn't help but leak truth at one point.

He felt better once his feet hit that curb between Radiant Avenue and Hollow Lane, crossbow lips meeting his cigarette butt. But hell, he'd better call that damn number before anything else came to mind. Him and Axel had some serious man-to-man catching up time to do and he could use some stress relief. It's time to go back to the "coming home late from work" excuse again because Namine didn't need to know.

Fin.