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After hours (the A side)
It is after hours. Tonight was quieter than usual and so it took less time to close up. Axel is grateful for the early break. Recently he has been having some ... problems on the home front. It affects his ability to concentrate and drains his strength to the point of hindering his work ethic. He has always liked to do the job thoroughly – borne from his mother's incessant stipulations that any job worth doing is worth doing properly – but tonight particularly he has not been able to stop thinking about that fight that they had two days ago. It has distracted him greatly.
He has a hard time telling if Roxas is affected to the same extent. Roxas is so good at hiding emotions and appearing completely unruffled (partly the cause for this mess they are now in) and even after all this time he can't determine how Roxas feels. He must be just as upset as Axel. Surely. He betrays no shaky movements, no tremor of the voice and his focus is as sharp as ever. Axel lost count of how many times he screwed up tonight. He is certain he will lose his job for this night of errors. Roxas, on the other hand, conducted himself as impeccably as always.
He tries to catch Roxas' eye. Roxas ignores him and continues stacking plates and hanging glasses in preparation for tomorrow evening. It is understandable and expected that Roxas attend to his work fastidiously – a saving grace of the business so far has been that the two of them are so concerned with detail and perfection – but Axel feels that it is more an attempt to avoid confrontation or even discussion.
The last of their bartenders, Riku, a mutual friend of theirs, quietly approaches Axel and asks if anything else remains to be done for the night. He is far more gregarious on any other day but all the staff either knew or felt that sensitivity was required when talking with either Roxas or Axel this past week. It must have been obvious that times were tough.
Axel replies in the negative and smiles at Riku. It is a strain. He gives his friend a pat on the shoulder and sees him to the door with wishes of a pleasant evening.
The shift for the night is over. He locks the door from the inside and quickly double-checks that everything is set up for tomorrow. Roxas is now folding tablecloths or tea-towels or some type of linen on one of the larger tables. Axel watches him discreetly. Blonde hair falls into his eyes only to be flicked back with an annoyed jerk of the head, but as soon as he leans over to grab another tea-towel, it happens again. He is always complaining about it but has never made any move to get a haircut. He is tired, Axel can see, but whether that is a fatigue due to work that he allows to show through or something else Axel is not sure. His soft complexion is flushed and he has some dark shadows under his eyes. His posture is straight but the clipped movements of his hands and arms indicate that he knows Axel is watching.
Roxas speaks softly but it still takes Axel by surprise. "Is that everything for tonight?"
Axel has come to know Roxas better than anybody else. It is still a mission to scrape away the layers that Roxas generates to hide himself and sometimes he finds it easier to believe that Roxas means to be curt and impolite when he speaks so shortly than to look further and understand the real meaning behind the blonde's tone of voice. Now, he is inclined to raise his eyebrows in disbelief at the dismissive and caustic quality to Roxas' question. Of course he knows that by not saying anything pertaining to them, Roxas is distressed. He just can't find the words – or courage – to express it.
He doesn't answer. Roxas continues to ignore him. Axel thinks that if he waits long enough, Roxas will respond to his not responding. He further observes Roxas and he feels that he loves Roxas, enough to forgive him for being too scared to change and blossom, but maybe not enough to wait around for as long as it will take him to find the guts to do so.
It breaks his heart to make this realisation. Should he love Roxas more? It hardly seems fair, to realise this, to put it into words, because even if Roxas has realised something along the same lines and knows what he has to do, he has never vocalised it and persists even now in shying away from meaningful conversation. Axel does not like to feel spite in relation to his soulmate, but there it is.
Roxas eventually stops haltingly and looks up, but not at Axel. Axel hurries to reply to the question yet unanswered from ten minutes ago.
"No, it's not everything." His voice is gentle and caring but he can't stop the spike of resentment that pierces his words.
Silence. There is the smallest quirk in the muscle along Roxas' jaw, but he waits. Axel feels a rush of sickly adrenaline and with it the instinctive knowledge that if he does not choose his words carefully he will make the biggest mistake he has ever made, but at the same time he cannot restrain himself. It has to come out some way or another. There is almost a giddy catharsis in saying what he does, that split second of lack of regard for any consequence and a horrific, nasty triumph in telling Roxas exactly what his problem is and how it has ruined them as if none of it is Axel's fault and seeing the flicker of devastation that makes Roxas look like he fucking cares and Axel should feel horrible but he doesn't, he only feels victorious in a nasty, stabbing, manipulative sort of way.
Axel is breathing hard and he feels his heart racing. It is not as if the epiphany was physically trying. But it feels like he just ran an entire continent. Uphill. He is standing on the apex looking down, contemplating the descent and knowing that while it will be easier and faster, it is still downhill.
Roxas cracks. He says nothing but his face speaks for him. Axel has never seen Roxas so open. He can see everything. It shocks him to see so much, to see Roxas so naked.
Still high from the emotional tsunami that has carried him thus far, Axel adds, "Look. I can't wait forever." He knows that he is making it worse now, but he still can't seem to stop. In his defence, Roxas has done (or rather, failed to do) so much up until this point to destroy what is between them that Axel feels it only fair that it is his turn now to do some damage. Obnoxious. But he always has been.
There is desperation in Roxas' blue eyes. The dim lighting reflects and refracts millions of tiny lights in that overwhelming electric blue. Roxas is beautiful. But that's not enough. It never could be.
It is clear that Roxas doesn't know what to say. Or how to say it. It's all the same, really, and that is the essence of the problem that has driven them apart. Axel always swore he would be one of those people who would love unconditionally and not use it as a crutch to change a person, because what's the point of loving somebody for who they are not? But maybe he loves Roxas more than that. Maybe he loves him to the point that he wants to guide Roxas as a person and wants him to develop and grow. Maybe he loves him too much. Or maybe too little.
He suddenly understands why Roxas is unwaveringly taciturn. There is always too much to say. There are not enough ways to say it or enough words or time or clarity. It all seems hopelessly overwhelming and in the face of it all it is simpler to remain silent. How could these thoughts ever be put into vocal expression? The jumble of feelings and thoughts and raw emotions knot together in his stomach and refuse to be untangled into individual streams of thought. He can't get it out.
They stare at one another, hoping and waiting. Axel dislikes being in Roxas' head. It doesn't suit him. He takes a hesitant step backwards, testing the waters. Roxas looks like he is about to cry. God forbid. Axel's first reaction is to rush forward and hug him, soothe him and reassure. But that would completely undermine the purpose he is trying to achieve. He needs to push Roxas far enough that they will get somewhere. He can't spend all his life pandering to Roxas' emotional handicap. If this means anything ... and Axel hopes with everything he's got that it does – then Roxas will make that first ground-breaking step.
The night outside has grown misty dark. Grey, rather than black. It is probably a little humid and there are plenty of people still milling about on the streets. Neon lights flash in the distance and the constant drone of automobiles slapping rubber down on the bitumen only solidifies the buzzing, nagging frustration in the back of Axel's consciousness.
He takes another small shuffle backwards. A tiny, quiet sound comes from Roxas as those terrific blues glaze over and his face closes off.
Probably not what Axel was hoping for. But largely what he was expecting. Was it too much to hope? When he knew the likelihood ... when he knew what his chances were. Usually he is good at gambling. It's about time his luck ran out anyway. There is only so far you can go on skill and effort.
He doesn't let his expression change. He is sort of past the point of caring.
And if he's learnt anything in these short years it's that not all relationships have happy endings.
Axel tears his gaze away and walks out of the restaurant. He lets the door swing softly behind him and leaves Roxas standing alone in the stale, empty light of after hours.