You hate it here, and after all those years, that fact hasn't changed in the slightest.
At first, these people were nothing but an eccentric collection of strangers.
Finally you remembered your words, and developed something relative to friendship.
You grew so close, finishing each others sentences, sharing things that needn't be said aloud.
Then you could see their words before they formed, Etched sorely on your own eyes. You could see their thoughts, where there were no fake smiles or reluctant greetings to cover the ugliness.
You could see how their minds worked.
You grew apart soon after.
He still hates you. He doesn't understand why. Blind hatred. Axel never changes.
Over the years you grew dependant on Demyx, for the audio distraction. The silence that seemed to warp these corridors calmed your mind, Gave you focus. You could hear your own thoughts. And that in itself was frightening.
He could talk.
Continuously.
He never waited for your response. He never needed encouraging. He was somewhat of a rock to your stay there.
He did change. Years took their toll on the young musician.
The electricity he once captured in those blue eyes has fizzled and disappeared. He's pale, And worn. The elaborate hairstyle he took such pride in has overgrown, Hangs over his brow, shading the majority of his features. Rarely does he smile, preferring instead a brief flash of teeth where once a smile would be plastered permanently.
He's skinny and hunched, all the vitality you once admired him for has disappeared, and now, He's just like anyone else here.
He's made too many mistakes, Xigbar once explained to you.
People don't just walk out of here Roxas. I realise that's what's putting a kink in your chain.
Xigbar and Demyx continue to have what you once treasured between Axel and you.
Something familiar and comfortable. No explanations and no excuses.
Sometimes, alone you would question to lengths they've gone through to stay such friends.
You realise the lack of a heart is a major impact on maintaining a meaningful relationship.
But they deal.
You just... couldn't.
You had overheard Saix discussing with the Superior, Axel's behaviour. It was no secret, the deep-rooted hatred between the two, an insane irrational fear on Axel's part. It was no surprise to stumble upon another of the berserker's attempts to claw his way to "employee of the month", but there was something urgent in the superior's tone, His reasoning for Saix to confront Axel.
He acts as though he has a heart.
As soon as those words left a sharp-angled mouth with to many jagged edges, you knew you had made your mistake.
You made a friend.
Axel refused to speak to you about rumours of a heart, and you found yourself humming to stop the silence coming.
You didn't want to invade Axel's mind. Just another thing you can't deal with.
Those jade eyes never lost their glimmer, even now as they dart frantically around the room, steadily avoiding your own chilled stare.
You study him. Your Ex-friend. He's still taller than you.
He never changed. Not physically, not mentally. And you wonder why you depend on Demyx for a constant. He's pale, a little un-naturally so, and not so eager to venture into the world for fear of damaging it. His eyes are still rimmed in a dark past. The only indication of a life before the organisation.
"Axel. What's going on?"
He lifts a ridiculously graceful hand in front of his eyes, sparks hopping eagerly from his fingertips, flames licking the palm of his hand, his skin clearly seared from years of this pyromaniac abuse. He has the unnecessary grace Demyx is punished for lacking.
"Axel? Do you get into trouble because of us?"
He tears those painfully brutal eyes away from the faux inferno to rest upon your own.
"Relax newbie. It's just Saix playin' around."
You believed that then. Now you know better.
Did the years change you, Roxas? Are you better, Smarter, more like a human as oppose to just normal Roxas?
Because you're not taller.
Years changed you into a mentally premature old man. Anxiety and constant fear. It's your own fault you and Axel stopped speaking.
You worried about the effects your presence had on his health. He was guilty by association and dealt with the underhanded torture techniques of the other members, not a word of complaint from tight lips. Their physical weapons, cold steel and brutal metal, could never do as much damage as their words.
When in reality, the rift Axel witnessed slowly tearing apart the bonds between you, destroying your attempt at a relationship, dealt the most damage.
He never really had a heart, so the words 'i love you' were a pointless waste of his breath.
But he liked to pretend.