Writer's Woe: I wrote this for a friend. She requested that I write at least something for Roxas, so here it is. I spent four dull hours listening to Beethoven and emo Kingdom Hearts music, but I got something out of it. I hope that Roxas doesn't sound too intelligent in the first person.

Story Type: Centric

Character(s): Roxas

Genre: Angst

Style Type: First Person/Past Tense

. . . Desire!

There was never a place for me here. Nothing will change that. Words are plainly superficial, and they lack true consistency… Maybe my mean to join the organization had all been fruitless, as if my desire to be whole had gone wildly out of proportion.

...But I really couldn't think about that. Every lie dug me an even larger hole, and every hole led me to another devastating truth.

...Like a nasty stroll on an unrealized fancy…?

--

. Chocolate Memories .

When I could finally taste the creamy dessert gently code my taste buds – my stomach would only blither restlessly.

It was always ignored.

My heart urged for another bite of the sweetened delicacy. I couldn't help my craving; I had to have more. "You know, Roxas – they say this stuff never gets old," Axel announced presumably. "And the view is great!" I hardly thought about its contents. Instead of mindlessly reaching for the admirable ingredient of sea salt, I quickly ran my tongue along the heightened veils of turquoise. "Roxas…"

We sat with our heads held high – on the largest tower in town. Fortunately for me, the idea was Axel's. I never imagined my feet dangling out like this. The thought would make the simplest victim jump at least a little. "Keep your skin on, bud," the elder member comforted. "I think that we'll be fine."

"You're right," I said assuredly, "but good luck telling that to Demyx." He laughed confidently, as he allowed his tongue to scrape in another share of the creamy delight. I quickly grew jealous of the conservative red head. While he still had half of his share ready for another bite, my snack remained but an insignificant stick. Slick and slender, it haunted me with warm and promising memories of more.

…There goes all my munny...again…

"He's worse at holding in his breath than you are with holding in your funds!" I tried to carve out a smile, but my lips just wouldn't budge. "Got it memorized?" …Only Guilt would take the place of this splendid friend. Guilt made me a nervous pretender, and it also fleshed out another passion. With every passion Guilt graced, a frown laced a stitch upon my withered mask. And when I turned my head, Guilt was there waiting to see its prominent gaze.

"…I should go," I muttered to myself. "Xemnas wants me back by dark." My eyes tumbled away from Guilt and its shame. Its flame chewed at my soul, but its mark bled with confusion.

Distant and rare, Guilt could only bring himself to care. "Oh," he whispered softly. "Be careful not to fall." I dared myself to look back, but I couldn't. He would run his fingers across my strife, and I still couldn't guess. …I felt his green eyes trip me bitterly, and I wasn't about to let up. Instead, I fought the struggle.

I walked alongside the sunlit clock tower in blistering silence. Step by step, I let the air drug me with promises and false hopes. Minute by minute, I wrestled the intense heat and its gorgeous flame. Second by second, I propped a glance over twilight-bound haven. "Bye," I closed, returning the light and its dreaded plight. "I'll see you on the other side..."

. Bitter Endings .

--

I only wanted to feel what others have. I never purposefully berried our friendship, or fixed a line by all means. ...It was dread that I concerned myself with -- a vast, undefined residence of perfection. But dread laughed at that. It told me to build a fire and it watched me burn inside.

...All I wanted was a friend -- somebody who would listen as I counted my words. A flower among others... I wanted an elaborate hand to slide into mine -- a large smile doused in life. Was that too much to ask for?

...Warm and promising memories of more still arrived...