Author's note: First chapter of one of my favorite plot bunnies, my first official fan fiction post. Hopefully the next chapters will be longer but i won't promise anything.
If you see any mistakes, please let me know. XD

Disclaimer: I don't own anything... I didn't even come up with the title T-T

~enjoy~

ooOoOoOoo

It had been exactly a year now, since the accident. At least that's what they liked to call it. I never believed the bull shit they had told me, I knew the truth.

I was woken by cold lips on my bare back; almost as if someone were kissing me in the spot my neck meets my shoulder. I turned, brushing my hand across the cold empty half of my bed, knowing that no one would be there. I fought against the tears that filled my eyes as I quickly threw the blankets back, standing up. He had always woken me that way.

I think I knew it would happen eventually, I think he had been preparing me for it.

I walked into the kitchen, my breath fogging in front of my mouth. I quickly made my way over to the thermostat. 62°, no wonder I was so cold. I turned the dial to 72 and the heater kicked in much to my relief. As I pulled open the fridge a shiver went down my spin as cold, invisible arms wrapped around my chest and a non existent breeze ruffled my hair. Shivering I wrapped my arms around myself, tears swelling in my eyes again. The first thing he used to do was hug me, inhaling the smell of my hair. He used to say he didn't want to forget the way I smelt, just in case. He never said what just in case might be.

But that didn't stop the shock… or the denial. Maybe that's why it took so long for it to sink in; I thought it was some stupid prank he was pulling.

I finished getting breakfast, trying to clear my mind; I knew what was going on. It was the one year Anniversary.I got dressed in a zombie state, not caring how I looked, not that I had much chance of something not matching, there were only two colors in my closet: white and black. I brushed my teeth and ran a hand through my hair. I didn't have to work, I had requested the week off, but there was somewhere I needed to be.

But somewhere, in the back of my mind, I knew he was never coming back.
Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew he had been murdered.

Slowly, I walked through the gate, a single red rose in hand. The only sound was that of my feet on the dew wet grass as I maneuvered my way around headstones, looking for a specific one. I didn't need to look really, I knew where it was but it was harder to walk towards that beautiful marble slab today. It was harder then it's ever been. It's been one year, and for the first time I think I realize that I will never run my hands through his gorgeous long red hair, or feel the warmth of his lips on mine, or wake up to his face, or trace those stupid red tattoos with my fingers ever again.

I had never felt my heart hurt so badly, not since the first day, the day I heard about the accident. My heart was sitting on my tongue as I fought back the tornado of tears that wanted to burst forth; I bent onto my knees, reading his headstone

A smile brushed across my face as I read the words, we had talked about what we wanted our headstones to say just months before he was taken from me, he had wanted something that really said who he was, we had come up with the words together. I hadn't thought I would have to use them so soon. I laid the rose gently on the ground in front of the marble; tears finally falling as I curled in on myself, head in hands, sobs racking my body.

I think when it first hit that they weren't lying was at the funeral
It was open casket

It was about ten minutes later that I was finally able to stand; I knew I couldn't stay there much longer. If I tried I would probably loose my sanity. He was gone and there was nothing I could do to get him back, I realize that now and I wish I didn't. I had to remind myself to breath as my heart stuck in my throat; it would probably be a while before that feeling ever went away.

I was concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to get myself out of the cemetery as fast as I could when I ran into some one. Glancing up, I felt my heart freeze. I was blinded by red as my throat closed up, vision swimming in tears.

A man in black was standing in front of me; it could only be one person. I reached up towards his face, tracing his tattoos with my thumbs just as he reached his hand up, caressing my cheek with the back of his fingers. But… something was wrong; his tattoos weren't in the right place. We blinked together, as if coming back to our minds and jerked our hands away from each other. I held my cheek, it had been so long since someone had touched me in such an intimate way and I didn't know how to respond.

"Sorry," we said to each other in tandem, "I don't know what came over me; you just look so similar to him." He recoiled from me as if burned, turning away from the sight of me. I reached out my hand and grabbed his arm. He tensed, not moving.

"Wait," I choked out, a note of desperation in my voice, "just let me look at you a moment longer." His arm went slack as he turned back to me, eyes shining with unshed tears. I drank in the view, there were some differences, like the fact that his hair wasn't pulled back, and there was the tattoos that were directly under his eyes, they reminded me of tears. Still holding onto his arm I reached out a hand and brushed across the mark under his left eye. Tears slid out of his closed eyes and down his cheeks, I wiped them away.

"You look just like him," I whispered, the pain evident in my voice. He opened he green eyes and looked at me, sorrow written across his face.

"As do you." He said quietly reaching up his hand to stroke my cheek again.

"Who do I look like?" I asked, grabbing his hand and holding it against my face, not wanting the feeling of skin to leave mine. It had been a long time since someone had dared to touch me, and I hadn't realized how much I had missed it. He pulled his shaking hand away from my face, before grabbing my hand.

"I will show you," Was all he said before leading me down the path I had just come from.

It was horrible; I don't know what had possessed them to let us see him in that state.
It almost looked like he had been beaten to death.
His perfect face was marred with shallow cuts and his lip was split. His usually pale skin was almost translucent, and when I touched him, he was cold.

We knelt side by side, our legs brushing together. We took comfort in the presence of each other. It seemed strange how easy it was to let him touch me when I didn't even know his name. We were in front of a marble slab almost identical to the one I had just been at. The eerie thing was that it was right next to his. I'd never bothered to notice who was keeping him company.

As I examined the intricate writing a frown creased my face. Aside from the name and the birth date it was exactly the same. It read: Friend, Brother, Lover, Protector, Taken before his time. Even the date of death was the same. I turned to the silent man beside me searching his face, for what I wasn't sure.

"What happened?" I asked, grabbing his hands and looking him in the eyes, "what took him from you?" His eyes glistened and he swallowed hard.

"I was told it was an accident." He said softly turning away, "but that doesn't matter anymore."

"You don't believe it do you?" I turned back to the stone, rereading the name. He glanced at me with wary eyes, shaking his head 'no'. He gently ran his thumb across the ridges of the name: Sora.

"It means sky." He murmured, "If you could have seen his eyes you would have understood the truth in his name." he glanced at me for a moment. "They were like yours." He pulled out a worn picture, showing it to me. He was in it with another man who I assumed was Sora, they looked so happy. God, Sora was beautiful and in a strange way he looked like we could have been twins. I pulled out my own picture, it was worn also. I handed it to him with his. He stared at it while I crawled over to the grave marker next to us, in front of which was a single red rose.

With slight hesitation he followed me, still looking at the picture.

"His name was Reno," I said quietly, "They told me it was an accident too and they had lied through their teeth as they did it." I pulled the soft petals from the rose, making a small pile in front of my knees. He handed the picture back to me, I met his eyes and he smiled slightly.

"I'm Axel," he said, holding out his hand

I grasped his hand, looking into his deep green eyes, "I'm Roxas."

It wasn't even an hour after the funeral that I locked the last message he had ever sent me into my phone. Occasionally he had sent me a text telling me that he wouldn't be home that night.
I should have known something was wrong when he sent me a voice-mail instead.

ooOoOoOoo

Moar author's note: I'm hoping to perfect the next chapter and have it posted soon......
Review please~!