present.
It's you and him.
he's the only thing you see,
and you're the only thing he sees.
he looks at you like you're the only boy in the world.
when he tells you he loves you, you know he means it.
the way he grabs you when you start shaking because of a nightmare.
and the sun comes up and he's still holding you.
you hear him say:
"Roxy, i think you're bluffing, just so i can hold you closer."
you laugh into his chest because you both know in the end; he would have held you closer than anything he could ever grasp.
he always wants to.
*
you still remember when you first met him.
-memories.
you were ten and he was twelve.
you see the cutest red hair you've ever seen and you skip happily over to the older boy sitting alone in the sandbox.
"hi, im Roxas." you said holding out your hand politely.
"hi." he says.
"you don't talk much do you?" you ask.
"no."
"well then, can i at least have your name?"
"its Axel, got it memorized?"
"i guess." you say, confused.
you didn't understand why the boy had an attitude.
but then again, it just made you all the more curious.
you know you loved him then, but were too young to understand it.
- memories.
you were fourteen when you walked into the high school doors on the first day as a freshman.
and fifteen when you got the shit beat out of you by a few jocks who kept calling you a fag.
you saw fire and the color green, and swore you felt the earth move when the goons fell down around you.
and then in your head you were twelve again when you first saw fire and and the color green,
and the little boys who ran home, crying to their moms, with nosebleeds.
all for messing with you.
-memories.
you were sixteen when he grabbed your face and kissed you.
you felt him smile, and he asked you if you would be his.
you blushed a little,
but jumped right back into his arms,
and whispered "forever."
-memories.
and you remember the first time you made love.
your eyes never left his,
and he was gentle.
present.
you have been staring into those emerald globes and he has been drowning in your blue orbs.
it's been seven years, and you still get butterflies in your stomach when he glances your way.
and your knees still go weak when he kisses you.
this is exactly how love is supposed to be,
you know it and he knows it.
