A/N: This is a short one-shot that happened to be born from me playing The Sims 2. Yes no lie. I have a house full of select organization members and for some reason, Axel loves playing with the paper... But all of this 'drama' goes on in my household. It's off of free will, but so true!
So here is a small one-shot thing, because god only knows how this story will turn out.
Paper Airplanes
"He's at it again..."
Roxas leaned over to whisper softly to the dark-haired girl that stood next to him. The boy's eyes narrowed; it seemed that ever since that little mishap, Axel was not the same guy.
Inky strands of hair fell into the girl's ice blue eyes as she nodded in recognition, both sets of eyes watching the man outside the front glass window.
--
A fit of laughter emitted from the hallway as Axel played a 'grade school' hand game with Roxas. The name of the game was "slaps". The older teen boy had his palms upright as the blonde's palms were facing downwards, bare skin only centimeters away from the other's.
A slight twitch made Axel's hands tremble with excitement, his own heart pumping into the cage of his chest. He was going to strike him. Roxas's face began to heat up, palms growing sweaty, and legs feeling a bit weak. He didn't want to lose this game again. Axel's left hand shot up and over to whack at the top of the boy's right hand knuckles, now gaining the title of "slap champ".
Roxas roared, his voice a mix of anger and amusement. He was never good at the game, but that never stopped him from having a good time. The score was now 4-0.
--
Axel's delicate, calloused fingertips bent and shaped the brittle pages into his own little creation. He dropped the excess pages of the newspaper onto his crossed legs, now shifting his position from sitting on his tail end up onto his jean-covered knees, the dirty pages falling to the ground. After he had completely crafted his new paper airplane he held the folded base between his index finger and thumb tip, caressing the grimy page. The male's spiked pieces of red-tipped hair gently fluttered in the cool breeze as his eyes narrowed, looking for a new target to lock onto, to throw today's paper airplane at.
The male took in a deep breath as he steadied his hand, locking his wrist as his elbow and forearm began to swing in a slight pendulum motion. Back and forth, back and forth. But never once did he take his emerald irises away from the mark.
--
Her smile was captivating. A twist of the sly devil peaked its head out with every upturn of her glossed lips. Her short, blonde, slicked-back hair framed her slender neck as she tilted her head to the right, two pieces of misplaced hair falling to the side with her movement.
Axel couldn't help but stare. Her dynamic green, cat-eyes were watching him. She was like a train-wreck. Something so violent, yet so entertaining. After all, he was only human, and these feelings raging throughout his body could only be that of hormones. His stomach fluttered, his throat drying out. He could feel his hands trembling with excitement. That excitement was just the same sensation he had felt while playing the 'kid games' with Roxas.
The woman inched closer in his vicinity, causing his arm hairs to stand on end. Axel couldn't move, his body stiff, yet he always had that plastered look of complacency on his face.
Anticipation.
--
The paper airplane was hurled forward, the nose perfectly leveled and flying straight forward, inching lower and lower with every foot, hitting the wooden pole of the mailbox and denting the paper tip. Axel faintly praised himself for the achievement made.
His jade gaze fell back down to the pile of flimsy paper, contemplating whether or not he should make another, or just to recycle it all together.
Life was full of choices, some being simple, and some a bit more complex.
--
Axel was lounging on the couch in the dimly lit room. There was no sight of any blonde. Why was this turning out to be such an unsettling situation?
He had feelings for both. BOTH people. How could that be possible? And how could it be that he could be attracted to both sexes? It didn't seem fair and it didn't seem right. The circumstances were askew.
A humble melody of giggling drifted its way to the red-head's eardrum. His entire body perked up, now forcing himself to rise up and investigate. Axel's socked feet scuffed the wooden floors as he crept up to the light that was being spilled out into the hallway. The male's pale face was illuminated with the room's light as he peered over into the half-cracked doorway.
A slim male and petite female stood only a foot away from each other. The blonde's dainty right hand was settled stationary on the small of the girl's back. The raven haired girl's left hand was propped up on the other's adjacent shoulder. His left and her right hands were clasped together comfortably, bodies swaying back and forth to the music in their own heads.
Axel felt his own heart drop into the pit of his stomach, his jaw tingling. He felt sick. He was going to hurl. He felt almost betrayed. Roxas was now playing a new hand game. A higher grade-level of hand games. The teen felt betrayed. Felt as if this wasn't real. It wasn't happening.
But why? Why was he getting so upset? Why was this sight making him so furious, so dejected? Axel threw his back up against the white painted wall, hidden from view from the bedroom, and slumped down to the floor. He sat there, hugging his knees to his chest and rocking back and forth slightly. He buried his warm face in between his knees. He could feel it coming. A different emotion now.
Tears.
--
"Xion, how much longer do you think he's going to do this? And what do you think could have happened...?" Roxas cocked his head and crossed his arms tightly against his chest.
The girl shook her head, her low-key voice escaping her soft lips. "I don't know, Roxas..."
Axel dropped back down, both hands flung to each side of him. His gaze became more and more lifeless, distant. A strong gust of wind was now blowing the remaining sheets of paper and scattering them all over the lawn.
Maybe this wasn't the end. Maybe it was just a hurdle that he had to get over.
The paper airplane seemed to be so symbolic of Roxas.
Once, he was just in his grasp. And maybe at some moment, he had to let him go. But perhaps one day, that time would come when the small paper airplane would fly back to him.