Roxas had a secret. He was in love. He could honestly say that he was truly in love. And it was wonderful. It was a secret though, because society refused to believe him. Because society only believed in sex. According to the world love was dead, lust was the ruling emotion. But to Roxas, it was all wrong. He was in love and he was sure of it. He could not tell his friends, they didn't believe him either. No one was in love anymore. It was all a hoax. You though you loved someone but you really loved each other's bodies and stayed together out of convenience. Roxas knew this to be untrue for him and his true love. And his true love knew it too. He wasn't deluding himself as others had mentioned, they were deluding themselves. They floated along in a world of hatred trying to stay alive all while trying to die.
At six o' clock on the dot, his love would come home, weary and worn from his desk job. The briefcase would hit the floor, followed soon after by his jacket and tie. He would pull his hair loose from the tie that restricted it throughout the day and he would shake his mane of flaming red hair. He would walk into their living room and sit beside his love on their beat up couch. They would do absolutely nothing but hold each other for a good 30 minutes after he got home. Only after that precious time of shared breaths, heartbeats, and brain waves would they again go about their daily routines. They would cook, eat and clean up together. Afterwards, Axel would change out of his work clothes and they would leave. Holding hands until they left their neighborhood. Sometimes by car and sometimes by foot they would take off into the night, trying to find somewhere new. It kept them alive and fresh. Occasionally they would stop for a movie, at a club, or even for ice cream. They would socialize, go out with their friends, and play up the act society demanded from them. Other times, though, they would wander, to a park, beach, a deserted hillside and just sit. They would talk; discuss life, politics, and war. Or they would just hold one another and look into each other's eyes, perfectly content with the world.
There were days when Axel came home feeling like shit, or when Roxas waited long enough for him to get to the couch before bursting into tears. They had their ups and downs and the downs were just as bad as any other couple. They were different though. Even when they fought, they remembered they loved each other. Even when Axel didn't have a phone to call and Roxas made himself sick with worry, and the fight that resided afterward shook the walls, they remembered first and foremost that they loved each other. They kept each other going, completed their other and knew that without one another, life would be meaningless.
It was love, love, love, no matter what anyone had to say. And it was theirs, and they did it their own way. No one could take it away from them, not one person. Even in the world of destruction, death, and doom, love still blossomed in little places, in little people.
Don't ask. I was feeling really down. I needed something happy. Or not as fucked up as the fic I was reading. This is still kinda fucked up but meh. It's here, it's finished, I need to study for SATs/ go to bed. Reviewing and telling me what you think of that mental baggage would be really cool.