This idea wouldn't leave me alone, so on this uneventful afternoon i wrote it. Obviously there'll only be seven chapters, but here's hoping they're good =)

This first chapter is kind of short, but the others will be longer. i just can't make Roxas and Namine angry at each other for long =(

In that sense, they couldn't have been any closer to opposites.

He wasn't one to hide his anger, he embraced it a way that would cause her to blush with embarrassment, forcing out a muttered apology for such an unconventional outburst. Unlike her, he found a release in letting out the suppressed anger. It was like an itch that wouldn't go without being scratched, except he didn't scratch it so much as gnaw and claw at it.

Naminé was a different story altogether. She might flush red if something irritated her, or her voice might possibly hold a somewhat uncharacteristic edge that he found to be cute rather than intimidating, but that was all. If she sensed the awkward, hot air of an argument she soon found the nearest exit. Confrontation, if ever it found her, was soon lost on the other side of a closed door.

Nonetheless, nobody could put on a show quite like them.

She didn't come out the first time he called, nor the second, nor anytime after that. He had seen the angered contortion to her usually placid features before she trudged into the bathroom, slamming the door with a very final crash to end what was another wonderful evening of Chinese food and pointless arguments. He wondered how their conversation had led so abruptly from egg rolls to his rude and careless attitude towards her family; But thoughts like that rarely led him to an answer. After all, nothing ever made sense with her.

"Naminé…" Roxas sighed, his tone a light singsong as he once again attempted to coax her out of the bathroom. His back and shoulders were pressed against the wall beside the badly painted door, and the bones along every point touching the ugly floral wallpaper were beginning to throb with pain. It was, however, a small price to pay.

"Have you climbed out the window?" he asked with a soft chuckle. When he heard no response, Roxas sighed. "Naminé, I'm really sorry if I upset you." No response. "I know your family mean a lot to you, and I promise I'll be a perfect…significant other in future." He paused again, hoping she didn't pick up on his choice of words. He never called himself her boyfriend. He hated the word.

But whether or not she noticed his avoidance of the term, the bathroom door creaked open, almost interrupting him. He could see just a sliver of her form through the gap in the door; a single blue eye, a strip of her pale green dress, and the corner of her pouting lips. She tried not to meet his eyes as she stepped through the narrow gap into the hall, shutting the door softly behind her.

Looking up at her now, Roxas couldn't imagine he had ever been angry. "Thank you for making us a cliché." She said nothing. "Are you mad?" he asked, though his voice sounded empty in the silence, not nearly enough to fill the vacant space.

Naminé looked at him through the curtain of her hair. "Not as much," she said, just as softly.

Roxas slid to his feet and stepped towards her, instantly relieved by her willing presence. His fingers curled tentatively around her wrist, leaving her time to shake him off if his touch wasn't wanted. She didn't move.

"I'm not very bright, am I?" Roxas grumbled sadly, his lips twitching slightly into a weak smile. He raised his other hand to gently cradle her cheek, his thumb softly tracing the line of her bottom lip.

Naminé stiffened for a moment, but she quickly relaxed into the familiar warmth of his hand. His touch was almost ghostly; slight, but enough to send shivers through every point where he held her. "I'd say your intelligence is perfectly average," she mumbled, but he heard and they laughed.

"I'm sorry I suck," Roxas said.

Naminé shook her head slowly. "I just need you to be nicer to them," she said, her tone subtly pleading, "especially my dad."

Roxas groaned deeply. "I bait him. I can't help it. Something about a guy in short red shorts just doesn't…deter the creative mind."

Naminé frowned. "You're not creative when you insult my dad, Roxas, you're just plain rude."

"You mum finds me charming."

Naminé sighed irritably, and suddenly she was stepping away from him. Roxas was so surprised by her disappearance that, for a moment, he still felt the warm wisp of her breath on his skin. He reluctantly lowered his hand, which stung with the absence of her skin.

"My mum says you're a criminal," Naminé said.

In spite of everything, Roxas couldn't help laughing. "I can't help it if I'm a little naughty. Sure, I kick puppies, I laugh at the homeless, I make inappropriate suggestive gestures at nuns. But I'm really just a free spirit."

Naminé didn't appreciate the joke. "Roxas, please…"

Roxas, in a rare attempt to control his anger, let out a deep breath. "Naminé, you do realise I'm not perfect, don't you?" he asked, barely keeping his tone controlled.

Naminé looked taken aback. "Of course…"

Roxas laughed a little, although it was a gesture that came with a hint of badly suppressed irritation. She heard it often, and the sound always flicked on the warning light in her head. "Why do you want me to be the perfect…" he sighed angrily, "boyfriend like Sora was?"

Naminé recoiled slightly. She hadn't expected that. "I don't-I don't want you to be Sora."

"Really? Because it seems like everything I do wrong is something he's done right." Roxas laughed bitterly. "Hell, he probably bought a matching pair of red shorts."

Naminé shook her head, her eyes pleading. "I don't want you to be Sora," she insisted, her pale fingers raising to touch his face, lightly dancing over his skin. Roxas appeared to simmer under her fingertips, but the anger was still evident in his eyes as she forced him to look at her. She almost regretted it. "Please, don't think that."

It was harder than Roxas thought it would be, ignoring her wide and pleading eyes. He rested his hands over hers, curling his fingers though hers so he could lower her hands from his face. "I'm never going to be like Sora," he said tightly. And she thought, maybe, his tone held a hint of regret.

Naminé shook her head. "Good. I don't want you to be."

"Are you sure?"

"Absolutely."

Roxas sighed. "Then I need you to stop comparing me to him," he whispered.

Naminé nodded fiercely. "Never again. I promise."

Roxas nodded slowly. He looked to Naminé like he was about to say something, but he clearly thought better of it and instead looked away and raised his hands, raking slim fingers through his hair. "Why are you so easy to forgive?" he groaned, genuinely irritated.

Naminé smiled hesitantly. "Why are you so easy to love?" she asked.

Roxas, to Naminé's relief, closed his eyes and chuckled softly. "I didn't realise I was."

Naminé giggled. And suddenly, in seconds, the red haze of anger had moved on.

She hoped it would stay gone this time.

Roxas smiled, and Naminé felt a sudden fierce longing to be held. She raised her hand hesitantly, and he let her fingers brush his cheek without flinching away. "I love the way you look at me sometimes," she whispered.

Roxas smiled at her. "Oh, yeah?"

Her eyes drifting to his lips, Naminé nodded. "Maybe you should look at my dad like that," she laughed softly.

Roxas rolled his eyes and curled his arms around her, tangling his hand into the hair at the nape of her neck as he lifted her face to his. "Please don't mention your dad right now."

That was fun to write. It was a twenty minute job, so sorry if it shows. I always feel stupidly happy when i write about Roxas and Namine. Right now, I'm smiling- on the inside, that is. haha
Any requests for the next...er..sin? I love that word. Please review