The chilling, frosty cold; it creeps, crawls, gets inside. He doesn't seem to feel the cold. Not anymore. He stands, hunched over the bank of the sloshing river. A raindrop falls. First one, then two, then the sound of the river is drowned out by the pummelling of rain against the landscape. At least now he won't be able to tell if he is still crying; his hot tears plinking into the river, only to be swept away by the merciless current.
We're both chilled to the bone, but neither of us care as we stare into the silence, each lost in our own thoughts.
I wonder if he knows I still watch him? I wonder if he cares. He moves, I flinch, cowering in my hiding place behind the oak tree. He slides down his hood and lifts his face to the rain, his blond hair slowly plastering itself backwards into rugged spikes with the force of the downpour.
He lets out a scream, full of anguish, desperation and grief. I wish I could go to him, but this shell of a being is not Roxas. Not my Roxas. Not anymore.
x x x x
Heh, so, yeah, it is very tiny. It's not fantastic, but, hit that bitton, the one that says review, and let me know what you think. I'm just a clicky-click clicker away. :)