I looked down at the boy beneath me, feeling so much love swell in my heart. It felt almost ready to burst as he looked up at me, his blue eyes hazy, but so warm and happy.
"I love you, Axel."
His arms squeezed tighter around my neck, and I bent down, connecting our lips briefly. I wanted to say the words. I wanted to say them so badly, but I couldn't. There was too much going on right now, and I didn't understand half of it. All I knew now was that my best friend was in my bed, holding me close. And that somehow made everything better...
"Same to you, kid."
He smiled up at me softly, and laid a hand on my cheek. I almost shuddered at how warm it felt.
"I wish this could last forever..."
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The year 2063. Three years and 4 months since the day my best friend...no...since my boyfriend disappeared. I'm twenty-three now, struggling to find my way through life. I have two jobs so that one of these days I could actually get to college, but that future seems like it's slowly slipping away. I'm not sure I have the heart or the drive to go for it anymore. Not now.
Three years. I almost can't believe it's been that long. Three years ago, my Roxas disappeared. From the state of his room and other parts of his small apartment, the police concluded it was a break-in, and kidnapping. My boyfriend was no where to be found, and whoever this person or group of persons was, they were smart and damn thorough. Though there were signs of a struggle all over the place, the only DNA that could be found was Roxas's. Roxas's hair, Roxas's finger prints...Roxas's blood. I cried into my friends' arms that night, Demyx and Zexion both. I'm not kidding when I say the best part of my life was gone. I didn't even feel weak for crying either, that's how bad it was.
Roxas was my ray of sunshine in this crazy world. No matter what upgraded and changed, computers, music players, Roxas never seemed to change. He was that same sweet, happy go lucky kid I'd met all those years ago. And he loved me. He was honest-to-god, movie-cliche, head-over-heels in love with me.
And I had never told him the same. Ugh! Stupid, stupid, stupid!
One week after that night we shared, when he opened himself to me, body, heart, soul, the whole works, and I was too much of a coward to let him know...I was feeling the same thing. I don't know. I was nervous. Scratch that, terrified. Back when I had parents to please and a whole life ahead of me to think about, even though I thought we might be going too fast. He told me what he wanted, what he'd dreamed about for years, and I gave it to him there, in one night. He was so happy. But I know I could have made him much, much happier than that.
And now he's gone. He's been gone a long time now.
A month later, a stinking MONTH, and the police said it looked hopeless. A body was never found, the people were never tracked down. Two months, three months went by. The news story started appearing less and less. My friend's kidnaper, and possible murder, was never found. And neither was he...
It crushed me. Crushed me so bad, I didn't know what to do. I was depressed; I stopped eating for a while. I would see him in my dreams every night, and then after a while once every week. He haunted me, and yet he never blamed me for not finding him in those dreams. But the part of it that really killed me was what he DID blame me for. He would always look so heartbroken, saying it again and again until I woke up crying.
"You didn't really love me."
I felt like everything was my fault. And no, I DID love him. I kept trying to tell him that, but he would never listen. If i even said the words "I love you," this horrible blood would leak from his ears, his eyes would roll back, and he'd turn into this horrible thing. He'd morph before my eyes into something I'd never seen before. It was horrible, twisted, disgusting. Most of all, it was cold...
It took forever for Demyx and Zexion and Larxene to pull me out. Help me find something to get my life going again.
So here I am now. In a new city, living in a small rinky-dink apartment with my three friends. Working as a short-order cook on weekend nights and working at shipping and delivery for a mail warehouse not too far from my place the rest of the time. Life is okay now. Okay, but not good or even great.
The time I live in has certainly changed though. Now, these days, if you have enough money, you can buy these fancy computers shaped like people. They can do anything for you, and by anything, I mean just about ANYTHING. Designers these days are really going all out. They can give them an outer layer of material that feels like real skin, some of them can manage realistic facial expressions. Some can have customized personalities, and that's just the aspect of them that's like having a real person. They can surf the web, tell you about your stocks and loans, cook and clean, even act as personal bodyguards. They're pretty amazing.
...That feels so off-topic to what I was just going on about, but yeah. Times are really changing. And I'm talking about it because it's just about the only thing that has me interested in the world. I kind of wish I had one of those do-it-all robot computer things sometimes. But I'm pretty poor and could never afford something that damn expensive. That, and I'd rather have someone real, if they're going to look like a person. Someone who can feel, touch, taste, smell. You get the idea.
Other than that, we're beginning to make some headway on teleports. That's just about the only thing we have left to perfect, I think. Lots of stuff is more mechanized now. There are a lot more escalators and moving sidewalks around the place, at least where I used to live. The city I live in now is a lot less advanced, and to be honest, I like it that way. I think too much machine influence makes us lazy. Not to mention puts us at risk for ending up like that old movie my grandparents used to tell me about. The Matrix, I think it was called?
Whatever. Even if the world is doomed, I doubt my own life could get any worse. My wounds are still fresh and occasionally bleeding, and it seems like the rest of my hopes and dreams I once had are going nowhere. I feel useless and sad sometimes. I know the others can see it to.
Sigh. I'm just a burden to everything.
I shrug my way out of my cooking apron and leave it on a hook by the door. It's a little unnerving that said hook immediately says, "Thank you. Have a nice day." That's one inanimate object that I think should stay quiet. What's the point of it anyway? To increase moral? We're a fucking diner, for Christ sakes!
I give it a wary nod, then call to my boss that I'm going. He's a big, burly man named Lexaeus; doesn't look too smart, but let me tell you, he's mean when he wants to be.
He grunts back, and I take that as a sign it's okay to leave. So I shuffle out the front door and down into the the dark, dusty streets. The tall skyscrapers all around make this place look even dark and more intimidating than it already is. I almost wish I could leave sometime during the day instead, just because it would be brighter, less depressing. Plus, with my schedule this way, I can't go out and party like I used to on the weekends. But even then, I guess that's no great loss. It's been so long since I had fun at a party, or even brought someone home.
I take a step onto the sidewalk. It's cold out tonight. Not many people out wandering the streets. I see a few couples, all bundled up and cuddling together for warmth as they walk. It makes me feel terrible to think so, but sometimes I feel angry when I see couples. If only in the sense that that might have been me. I know it's probably dumb to think so, but I feel like it was my fault, somehow. My fault that he's gone. Maybe, if I had done things differently, maybe...
Maybe he might have still been here now, with me, so we could hold each other just like those couples did...
I shake my head, desperately trying to rid my mind of those thoughts. They won't help me now, just make me feel worse. Sometimes I really have to fight the desire to dwell on it all. I know I'll never get anywhere if I do, but at this point, I almost wouldn't mind not going anywhere. I remember Roxas telling me all his hopes and dreams. Like how he wanted to be an artist like his sister, Namine. I'd seen his stuff, and new instantly he was going to do great things. But now his goals are so far out of reach. Impossible. When I look at it that way, it almost seems fair that I don't go anywhere or do anything either. At least in some small, insignificant way, we can still be together.
When I finally made it home, I muttered a good night to Demyx, who was hanging out on the common room couch watching t.v., and shut myself into my room. I kicked off my shoes and threw on one of my old, huge ratty t-shirts and climbed into bed. I was tired and achy well before this point. In the vain hope that I could maybe get some decent sleep for once, I shut my eyes and let myself drift off.
In the morning it would start all over again. Rinse, wash, and repeat.
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"I don't know! How am I supposed to know what he likes?"
"You're his best friend, dipshit. I'd think of all people you'd know what to get fire-crotch for his own birthday..."
I heard the hissing and hushed tones coming from our tiny communal kitchen as I stumbled through the dark. I'd just gotten up to get a snack because sometimes, hey, I just wake up in the middle of the night and feel hungry. So sue me. Anyway, I hear my friends in there and wonder, what time is it again? Three in the f-ing morning? What the hell could they possibly be doing up? I'm too out of it to really hear what they're talking about, and by the time I find my way in there, they go dead silent.
Sometimes, I swear Zexion looks more emo than I feel. Kid's got his hair all floppy and covering one eye. Wears dark clothes. He practically blends in with the shadows in the kitchen. Now, Dem is another story. He's wearing bright blue, and...I snort. Spongebob pajama pants? How old is he?
"Sup, guys?"
They watch me almost warily, and I spot Larxene leaning against the counter near where we keep the glasses. She runs a hand through her hair, smoothing her weird antennae-like bangs against her head casually.
"Oh, ya know, late night meetings in the kitchen. That kind of shit."
I blinked at her. "About what?"
Without hesitating, she snorts, "Intervention. Waterbaby here had another sugar episode on the bus tonight."
"Hey! Did not!" Demyx shrieks back, and I swear my ear drum just cracked. I raised a hand to my ear and wince a little.
"Dem, not now. Too loud, too early." To the rest of them, I mutter, "I'm just hear to grab some of that string cheese I bought earlier." I push open the fridge, grab a small packet of it, and turn away. "Have fun with your meeting."
As I finish the cheese, trash the wrapper, and climb back into bed, I vaguely register hearing the front door shut. It's loud as hell, even if you don't slam it, so there's no way I could have missed it. I'm too tired to wonder about it, so I just roll over and tell the world to f off for the second time tonight.
Hell, I'm so out of it, I didn't remember my own damn birthday is tomorrow.