I don't know why I wrote this. xD Honestly. It just begged to be written and I just wanted to get it off my chest more than anything, it was so distracting. As is a RikuRoku that I have in mind. Argh.
-head to wall-
Desperate Measures
They say that when you're dying, your life flashes before your eyes.
Well, that's bullshit... I certainly don't see my life right now, and I could use a little entertainment. Where are the pretty colors and lights?
Roxas was sinking slowly. Not any of that metaphorical crap. No, he was most definitely sinking lower into the clear, blue, chlorinated depths of his apartment's public pool. Not as romantic as the situation really called for, but he had to make do.
The situation hadn't called for him to drown himself at all, actually. Dulled blue eyes flicked towards the blood filtering its way through the open cuts on his leg, resembling smoke in the water. Roxas was entranced. Bleeding underwater was so fascinating, the way the red liquid arched and feathered through the clear liquid, gracefully ascending to the surface as his leg only pumped out more blood, staining the water around it.
It had taken a simple skid on the pool deck and a few decorative rocks to rip off a few layers of skin and strike blood, but had demanded a long moment of staring at the wound, then at the pool, to actually get the teen to tip over from where he had been kneeling, pressing a hand to his deep cuts to stop the flow. His body had hit the water surface smoothly, allowing it to sink right under and begin its descent. His clothes became heavy, weighing him down in the tepid water. Roxas proceeded to stretch out his arms and legs into a more relaxing position, so he could watch the moon far above him grow smaller and more distorted by the rippling surface of the pool.
And although drowning hadn't been the intent, it soon came about, and Roxas accepted it unenthusiastically. Might as well. It wasn't like he had the energy now to push himself away from the bottom and float to the surface again. He had better things to do, like wait patiently for the images of his life to start appearing before his eyes.
The blonde slowly felt his body become heavier as it thudded softly onto the smooth surface of the pool floor. His ears popped gently from the water pressure, filled with the buzzing, overwhelming silence of an empty pool in the middle of the night. It was peaceful, in a way. A faint smile lit the pale lips of the blonde as life proceeded not to flash before his eyes. A few bubbles escaped from his partially open mouth.
Hmph... so much for this...
Drowning wasn't as unpleasant as common myth declared. In fact, if you managed it, it was actually quite beautiful. It was silent and peaceful below the water, and the sight of a dark, moonlit sky above him, rippled and occasionally changing shape was enamoring. Then there were streaks of light shining about him, almost solid in appearance, as the moon pierced the top of the pool water to send down its beams of light.
Roxas closed his eyes, allowing a few more uncaring bubbles of oxygen from his lungs to escape so that they could begin a journey back to reality, a place that the blonde had no urge to return to. It was fine here, he reasoned. He could spend the rest of his life here, and considering the way his lungs were idly protesting for him to take a breath of air, the rest of his life would probably consist of a few more minutes.
His leg continued to bleed. The moon continued to shine as the surface became still. Life outside of the chlorinated, tiled pool was still going on, the people unbeknownst to the fact that one of their own, a certain blonde-haired boy of 21, a boy who had so much ahead of him, as well as his last year of college, was about to die.
Would they know that this particular boy, who went by the name of Roxas, had spent three years of his life learning to play the violin in school, only to drop it after his brother, his best and favorite tutor, had left the house?
Would the priest mention that Roxas still hadn't completely recovered from his parents' death a year ago? But, then again, who knew?
What about that Roxas's favorite color was gray? Or that he loved sleeping in more than anything in the world? Or that his three friends, Hayner, Pence, and Olette, meant the world to him? Not likely.
Roxas grinned slightly, more bubbles escaping from his struggling lungs. Even if that wasn't put on his gravestone, he was sure his best friends would make themselves known and mention something particularly catchy. He could see it already.
Hayner wouldn't cry, he'd stand there stony-faced, his eyes dull. "Roxas... was one of the best buds I could ever ask for, and the best Struggle fighter in town. I'll miss him. A lot."
Olette would be crying quietly, soft cheeks wet with tears as her kind eyes would be watery. "We had a lot of good memories. Roxas, wherever you are... we'll always remember you."
Pence wouldn't say anything. He wasn't that good with words. He'd just set down an entire collection of photographs that would say it all.
Yeah. Roxas twitched, fighting down the instinctual feeling of needing to breath. That's how it would go.
Damn, had that been the life-flashing bit he had been waiting for?
Well... that sucked.
And this, as unromantic and rather crude as it was, was the last thought Roxas managed to squeeze out of his oxygen-deprived mind before he blacked out. Or, at least, he assumed that he blacked out. The world did go black, but after a moment of thought, the blonde realized that it wasn't actually him losing consciousness. No, his peaceful, silent, still death had been ruined and his moonlight blocked out because some dimwit had taken it upon himself to jump into the damn pool. There was a rush of sound over Roxas as water was thrashed about and the idiot began a shaky descent down to the bottom, towards him.
A hand closed tightly over his shoulder as another sluggishly looped around his waist.
The last stream of air came out of Roxas as he choked on water in shock and that, goddamnititall, that was the moment that his troublesome brain chose to shut down and knock the blonde out cold.
His troublesome brain also decided it would be wise to bring the blonde right back up as his mysterious rescuer was performing CPR.
There were painful thrusts being administered to his chest, while a soft voice somewhere above muttered the count up to 30. Roxas struggled to pull away from the painful jabs into his chest plate and empty out the huge amount of water in his throat that was begging to be expelled. His body hadn't started up again yet, unfortunately, so all Roxas could manage was to just barely crack open his eyelids and take in a site of distressed green irises and what he could've sworn was a shock of an impossible shade of red hair.
"Twenty-two, twenty-three, breathe-you-asshole, twenty five..."
Roxas couldn't take anything else in, because the man had eventually reached thirty thrusts and pulled back to give his victim rescue breaths. The stranger tipped the blonde's head back, opening his airway and mouth.
As soon as a pair of firm lips closed over his, there was a fizzling in Roxas's head. Sounds returned to his ears: he could hear the pool filter humming off somewhere, as well as the midnight crickets and the far off cries of car horns. Then came feeling: Roxas was freezing and his chest ached like a fucker, not to mention his torn up leg. Next was taste: This stranger, whoever he was, had a taste of cigarettes about his mouth as he breathed hot air into him, inflating his chest.
This all happened in a fraction of a second, which was then followed shortly afterwards with Roxas's lungs deciding to finally release the unwanted water they had had stored up inside from the blonde's unsuccessful suicide attempt.
He gurgled and spit out all the warm, disgusting, chlorinated water with a heaving cough, right into his rescuer's mouth. Luckily, the gagging had given him away and the man had pulled back, just barely avoiding the barrage of liquid as Roxas tipped over onto his side to cough everything out, choking and nearly puking as well from the repulsive taste in his mouth. His lungs gratefully took in air, reveling in being filled with life-giving oxygen. Roxas felt dizzy. He couldn't even think straight.
"Good..." There was a soft, tired chuckle above him as he groaned, curling up in hopes of ridding himself of the cold, wet, clammy feeling returning to his freezing, soaked body. He felt weak and boneless. What had he expected, really? He had almost died a few minutes before hand.
Roxas closed his eyes tiredly as arms slid beneath him to pick up off of the rough pool deck. "Good." The stranger repeated. "I just found you; the last thing is I need is for you to die on me."
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Had it been days or weeks? Years, even? Wasn't he supposed to be dead?
Groping, moonlight-pearly hands were reaching out at him while beings of black swirled in circles about his torso, feeling his body with icy, shapeless hands scrabbling at his chest. Roxas knew what they wanted.
His heart.
He groaned, but felt his entire being pinned down with darkness that he couldn't pick out. Then he couldn't breathe. Right. He was underwater, wasn't he?
"ROXAS! ROXAS!"
Rushing shrieks were echoing through his water-pressure popped ears, deafening him. The black things continued to itch for the vital organ that Roxas knew wouldn't be there. He was helpless. Alone with the unnamed but dangerous shadows.
Something was flaring up inside of him, deeper than his heart, his organs, but down in his very core. He couldn't think, couldn't move, but he refused to end it here. Not when he had so much else to do (What? What is it that I have to do?). Unable to do anything else, Roxas took in a deep breath that was impossibly deep for someone who was apparently underwater, and screamed.
That was exactly how he woke himself up. Flailing and still trying to fight off invisible enemies, the blonde sat straight up, yelling himself hoarse, pushing away at restricting blankets, his hands clutching at the flesh over his heart in a vain attempt to protect it. Anything to get them away, to stop touching him and leave him in peace.
Eyes wide, but blind to the whole world, he scuttled along what felt like a bed, until his back hit the wall, where he pulled his knees to his chest and began shivering. His heart rate finally began to die down, and the muffled sounds around his ears soon faded. Roxas squeezed his eyes shut, breathing heavily, all the screams now dead in his throat.
"Shh, Roxas, calm down..." There was a hand at his forehead, lovingly brushing back his bangs, before it moved to squeezed his shoulders and pull him sideways into another body.
Roxas blearily opened his eyes as he was enveloped in a comfortingly warm embrace. The voice was familiar, his chest clenched painfully at the sound of it.
"Just sleep, Rox... sleep." The person murmured, moving away to allow Roxas to lie down again. "I can wait a few more hours for you."
The blonde groaned softly, head meeting a pillow. The words being spoken made no sense. He tried in vain to reach out and touch whoever was there, but failed miserably and fell back into a deep sleep.
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In retrospect, the whole "I think I'll cut my leg open, then jump into a pool and die" thing seemed incredibly stupid. Roxas had just woken up, feeling strangely at peace, if not somewhat worn out. As he lay there, underneath a heavy blanket, he recollected his thoughts without opening his eyes. And yes, he reconsidered his initial decision of trying to drown himself. The rest of the past events were a jumbled mess, but he did recall being saved... and probably later comforted by the same unknown person.
Roxas wiggled his toes experimentally. They were warm and had feeling in them. So did the rest of his body. Well, at least whoever this person was hadn't killed him yet, if it was a dangerous convict or anything of the sort. Were convicts known to be trained in CPR?
There was a familiar smell of smoke in the air. Someone was smoking, or at least had been: probably his rescuer. It was very warm just about everywhere and it took a few more seconds of thought for Roxas to realize that he was only in his boxers and a loose shirt and, more importantly, completely dry.
The temptation of just sleeping the rest of his life away in the comfortable bed, blind and unseeing, dead to the world, was hard to resist, but curiosity got the best of the blonde. He wanted to know what exactly was going in.
When he took in another slow, deep breath, preparing to finally observe his surroundings, his throat closed up on him; he was ridiculously parched. Roxas choked loudly, scraping together the only words he could at the moment.
"Water..." he rasped, putting in the best effort he could to tug back his eyelids. Open his eyes he did, only to take in a cup of water being lowered to his face.
"Drink."
Without thinking, Roxas pushed himself up to lean on his arm and grabbed the liquid, downing it in slow, grateful gulps. He realized his hands were shaking as he drained the last few sips of the water.
Coughing slightly to regain some composure, Roxas handed back the glass. The other individual, meanwhile, set a hand at the blonde's back and pushed him forward to completely sit up.
"You feeling alright?"
Roxas shakily breathed in, bobbing his head slowly once or twice in an affirmative gesture.
"Good. I'll go get Axel, then."
"Axel?" The blonde looked up, brow creasing in confusion. The other man nodded slightly as his head tipped to the side. Long, silvery hair grew from his head and touched down to his shoulders. Roxas eyed it briefly before returning his gaze to a pale face with high cheek-bones, an amused smirk on his lips, and a pair of eyes that shone with a sea-green color.
"Yeah, Axel. Your savior, so to speak. You just stay here and don't move." The deep voice carried an authority that Roxas supposed meant that he should probably listen to what he said. Without another word, the silvery-haired man, who also turned out to be way too tall, turned on his heel and walked out of sight. Roxas was left to his thoughts.
Axel? Who was this Axel figure? Roxas thought back to his rescue; an individual with fire truck red hair had performing CPR on him.
"Great..." Roxas sat back against the headboard of the bed and sighed. "I've been saved by a freak."
Had it been so hard to just let him die?
As he waited for "Axel," Roxas allowed his eyes to wander and take in the room. It was dark; still nighttime. It was also small; he recognized it to be of the same dimensions of his own apartment rooms. He was probably still somewhere in the vicinity, which meant not far from the pool and his own apartment. The room itself did not seem to be very much lived in, but at least it was tidy. The silver-haired man and Axel could have very well just moved here. He certainly had never seen them before.
There were footsteps at the doorway. Someone was coming. Too tired to stiffen and go on the defensive, Roxas merely turned his head to watch.
Sure enough, it was the red-head from before. He paused right before walking into the room, staring at Roxas with an indecipherable expression, but it was gone as soon as it had appeared to be replaced with a cocky grin. The tall man walked in, socked feet making no noise on the carpeted floor.
"So the little drowned rat finally woke up, huh?"
Roxas snorted under his breath, frowning and rolling his eyes. Pulling his knees up slightly so that they created a tent-like raise in the blanket, the blonde distractedly pulled a hand through his mussed hair as the red-head pulled up a chair to sit beside the bed.
"So how do you feel, Roxas?" the red-head asked, crossing his leg in a casual manner as he watched Roxas.
"Like shit." replied Roxas dully, staring down into his lap, feeling discomfort creeping up on him. The idea of sitting with your rescuer and having a lovely little chat made him squirm.
"Like you just tried to drown yourself?" provided the other man. Roxas looked up to see a small forced smile on his lips as his bright green eyes hardened. He wasn't happy, but was trying his best not to show it.
Shrugging, Roxas nodded in a silent response.
"Good. You deserve that, you moron." The stranger shifted in his seat and leaned back, glaring slightly at the blonde. Roxas flared up slightly, indignant.
"I never asked you to rescue me, asshole!" he growled softly, eyes flashing.
The man met his angry stare with a steady expression. "Axel."
"... what?"
"My name. It's Axel." At Roxas's unsurprised expression, he snickered. "Just so next time you need to call me something, you won't go straight to calling me obscenities, blondie."
Straightening his legs again, Roxas ignored the restricting pain in his chest that had come out of nowhere, too intent on maintaining his flaring temper. "It's Roxas, and I could say the same to you, Axel."
Axel features softened marginally and he looked about to stand up, but caught himself and relaxed again. "Good, now we've got the hard part of introductions down, we can move on. What the hell were you doing, sitting on the bottom of the pool in the middle of the night with no intent to come up again?"
The rapid change in topic caught Roxas off guard. He stammered briefly, his angry retort dying on his lips as he sat back again. The return to what he had done added weight to his shoulders and suddenly made him tired. He lowered his eyes, shrugging. "It's not any of your business."
"Oh, I think it is, considering that I'm the one that dragged you back up again." said Axel smoothly in reply, arms folding across his chest.
"Like I said..." Roxas said slowly, staring at his feet far off at the other end of the bed. He occasionally twitched his big toe just to see the wrinkles in the blanket shift. "... I never asked you to save me."
Axel frowned, lips tipping downwards to stretch the bizarre tear-drop tattoos beneath his eyes. "So am I to expect no word of thanks from you?"
Roxas stopped his toe-wiggling, pausing. A rush of guilt swelled up in his chest. Axel had jumped in the pool to save him, albeit randomly. And he had taken him in, keeping him dry and warm. Roxas was just being a selfish little brat now. Flushing slightly, the blonde ran another hand through his spikes, pulling at them slightly to ignore the embarrassment.
"... thank you." The soft sincerity in his words surprised even Roxas.
Satisfied, Axel smiled again, reaching into the pocket of his crimson and black jacket to tug out a lighter and cigarettes. Roxas didn't move as the red-head lit himself a death stick and proceeded to take a deep heave from it. The blonde watched out of the corner of his eye as the man seemed to deflate, exhaling a stream of flowing smoke from his mouth. The dull gray substance, floating out of existence, reminded Roxas of the blood in the water and he sighed to himself. He really was stupid.
"So tell me." Axel abruptly said, breaking the silence. "What got the idea of killing yourself into your head?"
The guy still wasn't satisfied. Roxas bristled slightly, looking at Axel again. "You're not going to let this go, are you?"
"No." Axel took in another heave of his cigarette. "You're sitting in my bed, wearing my shirt, living the life that I managed to keep for you. You most definitely owe me, and you can work some of it off by talking. I want to know."
"Fine." Roxas sat up straighter, trying not to get distracted by the hazy smoke hovering around Axel, making it look like his hair was on fire. "I don't know why I did it."
"That's not a reason. C'mon. Girlfriend? Emo problems? The parents? Life hates you? You started listening to those stupid bands with the subliminal messaging, what?"
Roxas snorted at the last suggestion, then shrugged. "No reason. I just..." He paused, thinking back to what exactly he had been thinking back at the pool. "I just wanted to see what happened."
"Um, you die, Roxas." Axel paused, cigarette clenched between his index and middle finger. "It's one of those obvious things, you know? You stop breathing, you stop living."
"Yes, thank you for that assessment, I realize." Roxas replied irritably, nose wrinkling slightly. Axel abruptly began to laugh, ash falling from his lit cigarette. Spotting Roxas's bewildered stare, he only chuckled harder, shaking his head.
"Ah ha... sorry... you just..." He wiped tears of mirth from his eyes, grinning shrewdly. "... you remind me of someone I knew once, a long time ago."
Roxas stared a moment longer before looking away again, smiling slightly himself. The sight of an amused, smiling Axel cheered him; probably one of those contagious things, like yawning. "Right."
"Heh, anyway..." Axel slowly calmed down, pulling at his cancer stick once again to relax. "... what were you saying? You wanted to see what would happen if you drowned?"
"I didn't think I would drown." Roxas's fingers twisted in his lap. He felt Axel's eyes on him and flushed. "That's the weird thing. I had this feeling that it wouldn't make a difference. I just ... felt like I could lie on the bottom of that pool forever, and it wouldn't matter. I'd still be the same."
Silence followed. Roxas's blush increased as Axel continued to stare at him thoughtfully, smoking. Roxas knew that the reason failed to prove any decent explanation on why anyone would abruptly decide to throw themselves into a pool and drown, but it was all he had. He idly squeezed at the blanket edges, feeling too warm and somewhat dizzy from the smoke around him. Exhaustion was setting in, but he was comfortable. Relaxed and comfortable to just sit in this silence with Axel, a completely stranger, smoking away while he remained unmoving, lost in his own thoughts.
"Roxas." Axel said abruptly, startling Roxas out of his daze. "Can I try something harmless? I need to make sure of something."
The blonde saw Axel staring at him, face now serious, eyes marred with indecision. He frowned slightly, confused. "... what?"
"Just..." The red-head pulled the almost finished cigarette to the side to stub it out in the nearby ashtray as he simultaneously leaned forward. "Just close your eyes. Trust me."
Roxas stiffened, half-heartedly growing wary. "Why should I do that?"
The red-head lowered his voice to an amused dull tenor. "Roxas, I just saved your sorry ass, do you seriously think I'd try to do anything to you? Close your eyes."
Disarmed (but not willing to admit it) by the faint pleading look in the slanted green eyes, as well as the small smile tilting the man's lips upward, Roxas sighed in resignation and closed his eyes. The red-head probably just wanted to check his jean zipper or something equally...
A warm, tentative hand slid around to cup his cheek. Roxas's breath hitched in his throat, but he didn't pull away.
... dim like that.
"Roxas..." Axel was whispering. He was closer than before, possibly only inches away. Roxas flinched, not daring to breathe, too tired too move, while all the while, something held him back. His heart's beats increased and Roxas felt much too warm. He shivered just as a pair of warm lips, the same who had breathed life back into him on the pool desk, closed over his, gently pressing, teasing a reaction out of him.
The blonde didn't know what forced him to it, but the non-stop clenching over his heart, which had been going on since the red-head had first walked into the room, broke something inside. With a muffled whimper, his hands flew out to slide around Axel's neck as he pushed back into the kiss. He was kissing away with a desperation which had come out of nowhere, and while it frightened him, he couldn't stop. Something was driving him on.
This couldn't be real.
"Axel..." He was whispering, switching to open-mouthed kisses. Axel himself had picked up the pace as well, unfazed with Roxas's sudden energy as their tongues met with practiced familiarity that couldn't be possible. He had never met Axel before in his life. So why was he heatedly sighing "Axel, Axel, Axel..." like a mantra? His fingers curled around the red-head's coat with a vice-like grip.
"Oh god, Axel, don't go..."
"Roxas..." murmured Axel softly, both hands now pressing to the blonde's cheeks. "I'm here, Roxas."
Roxas needed to pull away to breathe. His eyes opened. Axel's chest was heaving, probably as much as his, but he looked so indescribably heartbroken and pained.
"What..." gasped Roxas, regaining his composure, pressing a hand to his agonizingly fluttering heart. "What was that?"
Axel stood up, pressing his fingertips briefly to his lips before sighing and turning away. "... another chance."
Utterly confused now on his own actions and the conflicting emotions stabbing through his mind, the blonde shook his head violently, groaning.
"Just get some more sleep. We'll figure it out in the morning." Axel motioned towards the clock hanging on the wall. "There's still a few more hours to sunrise."
"I don't understand..." Roxas said weakly, involuntary rising from the bed to try and follow Axel. Unfortunately, his legs, still shaky from a near-death experience only hours before, couldn't sustain his weight. They crumpled, as did Roxas.
A slim hand darted out to catch his wrist, then his waist. Roxas hung in mid-air, leaning backwards with his feet awkwardly placed on the floor. Axel sighed, righting the blonde and pushing him back to the bed. He still had that dejected look on his face, and Roxas found no more energy to protest. He was feeling miserable himself, now.
"Sleep... before you fuck anything else up." Axel said with a firm finality, tucking the flummoxed Roxas back beneath the blanket and flicking off the light. He walked back, pausing at the doorway.
"... just don't think too much, alright, blondie?"
The words hung in the dark room, permeating the mood and sinking through the floorboards. Roxas let loose one shiver before curling up on himself. Drowning now felt like hours ago. The kiss had seemed like a lifetime.
An unwanted thought occurred to him as sleep was just about to claim him. It did nothing to soothe his mind.
Axel had called him Roxas before they had introduced each other. He had known, somehow.
Roxas shut his eyes tightly, biting his lip. Axel... who are you?
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As the morning rays were just sweeping into the room at the early hour of 6:30, they also found a certain blonde to be waking up in silence. He sat up, blinking. The room was still badly lit, but already, he could make out a figure on the other side of the room, sleeping in an arm-chair.
It was Axel.
There was no need to rub the sleep and drowsiness from his eyes, Roxas was completely awake. He gingerly slid out of bed, testing his balance. The second nap had restored some of his health. He sighed, anxiously scraping his fingers through his hair as he assessed his surroundings in hope of finding a pair of pants.
Luck was on his side; there were his shorts from the other day, dry, hanging by the window. Tip-toeing over so as not to awaken Axel, the blonde grabbed the clothes and made himself decent. He didn't exactly know what he was doing, but an inner force was driving him forward; an inner force he never knew he had, just like before. He knew what to do before doing it and did it without knowing what he was doing.
Something like that.
From life flashbacks to CPR to haunting nightmares to kisses from strange red-heads. Roxas's life was being turned upside down just because he had nearly killed himself. Who would've thought?
He walked silently to the doorway, stopping to look at Axel one last time. The older man had fallen asleep with a cigarette hanging loosely from his mouth. Smoke was even still swirling out of the tip, which meant that Axel had fallen asleep only recently.
Thoughtfully, if not almost automatically, Roxas plucked the burning stick from the red-head's lips and stubbed it out before turning and walking out of the apartment. He had been right; the layout was exactly the same as his own. He found the exit in no time, sparing no thought as to where the nameless silver-haired man had gone.
Without a whisper, Roxas had left, leaving Axel with a stubbed out cigarette as his goodbye and no eyes to watch him go.
Supposedly, at least. In actuality, a pair of sea-green eyes were observing the blonde's departure quite keenly. Riku leaned against the windowsill in the kitchen, slowly sipping black coffee while watching a small figure of Roxas far down below (as they were on the fifth floor) hurry across the courtyard in the direction of the exit.
"... didn't work, Axel?" He spoke, never taking his eyes away from the view outside.
The figure of the red-head was barely seen from where he was emerging from the adjacent, dim room.
"Almost." Axel sighed, rubbing his eyes tiredly. "Almost. I felt Roxas there, but he's too stubborn to let go and remember yet."
"All those months we spent looking for him..." Riku shook his head, face blank. "And you're letting him go like that? He might pull another suicide again."
"I'll bring him back. I couldn't do it last time, but I have more time on my side now." Axel said, joining the man by the window. They both observed the now empty courtyard.
"He was stubborn then, too."
Axel rested his forehead against the glass, closing his eyes as Riku turned away to prop his back on the wall. "Yeah, that's Roxas for you. I think I might actually have to beat it out of him next time."
Riku smirked around the rim of his coffee mug. "I feel almost bad for you. Sora was a cake-walk compared to the hell you're going through now."
The red-head hummed in agreement, sliding one eyelid back open. "Good thing I have such good experience at going through hell, then. I just hope that-" He abruptly broke off, words catching as he stared out the window.
Riku blinked, turning his head to look questioningly at the red-head, who suddenly started to laugh. "Something wrong?"
"Well, fuck..." Axel chuckled, the sound coming out shakily. Riku merely raised an eyebrow. The red-head shook his head, motioning towards the window. "Just look."
The silver-haired man obliged, peering back outside. He stared in disbelief for a second before snorting. Rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly, he turned away from the window. "I'm gonna need more coffee."
Axel merely grinned. Minutes later, the doorbell rang. Roxas stood just outside, bag that he had abandoned by the pool in hand. He stared down at his shoes as Axel opened the door.
"What brings you back here?"
"Why?" Roxas looked up. "Were you waiting for me?"
There was a soft laugh. "All my life, Roxas. And more."
