Roxas wound his arms around his knees, tucking them tightly to his chest. The cold was starting to get to him, but he didn't want Axel to know. He didn't want to leave yet.
Axel dropped onto the table, propping his feet up on the bench. He had a lit cigarette caught between his teeth, illuminating his face in a soft orange glow. Roxas watched as the embers burned brightly on Axel's inhale.
"Y'know," he said on an exhale, the smoke drifting hazily between them. "I don't fuckin' get it. He treats me like garbage and blames me for all the shit that happens to him, and he comes to my show and tips me forty bucks. Like?" He took another deep drag and blew the smoke upwards, away from Roxas. "Who does he think he is?"
Roxas breathed in deep, idly contemplating on whether he should respond or let Axel keep going.
"And then," Axel says, pulling the cigarette from his mouth and pinching it between his fingers, waving it around for emphasis, "and then. And then he brings... who? Who the fuck even was that?" He fumed for a moment. "God. I hate him."
Roxas waited, giving him another few moments. "You done?"
Another drag from the cigarette, and then Axel made a noncommital sound.
Roxas wanted to say something like, "He's trying to push your buttons but he still likes you." But a voice in his head was telling him not to, saying it wasn't his place.
So he just propped his chin on his arm and breathed in the smoke, which he wouldn't ever admit to but he actually really liked the smell, and let Axel fume silently.
After a few silent minutes, Axel bumped his hand against Roxas's shoulder. Roxas looked over to see Axel holding another lit cigarette out, and it took him another moment to realize he was offering it to him. Roxas made no move to grab it.
Axel gave him a beat and then lifted an eyebrow. "You don't have to, but you seem kinda tense, too. Figured you might need it."
Roxas faced the lake again, shrugging slightly. "M'okay."
He listened to deep, steady sound of Axel inhaling and exhaling the smoke, and breathed deep when the haze drifted closer to him.
"You sure?" Axel asked, leaning forward and propping his elbows on his knees.
Roxas simply shrugged again.
"How're your arms?" he asked.
Roxas tensed minutely, but Axel still noticed.
"S'okay," Axel said, his voice pitching lower. "Don't apologize." He tilted his head up, watching the thin veil of clouds pass over the moon.
Roxas swallowed the sorry on his tongue.
Axel went quiet then, and when Roxas glanced over, his eyes caught on the pale skin peeking through the shredded fabric of his pants. Even with the moon covered by clouds, there was enough illumination for Roxas to see the dark lines gouged in Axel's thigh.
"Sorry," Roxas said anyway, his voice rough. He dragged his eyes back to the lake, wrapped his arms tighter around his knees. His throat burned.
Axel sighed through his nose, and when he spoke, his tone was strained with exasperation and something else Roxas couldn't place.
"Don't worry about it."