Hour Hand

12. L'Espérance

Ashelia stormed home and went to check on Roxas. What is he thinking? He can't keep doing this. She glanced at the clock in the kitchen—9:30. She spent more time at the Farron's than she thought. Hurrying up the stairs, she found her son's door open. Ashelia stepped quietly into the doorway and found him on his bed, hands folded behind his head, staring blankly at the ceiling. She knocked quietly and watched as Roxas' eyes rolled over to look at her with a silent question.

What?

She sighed and stepped into the room. Seeing his dull eyes, Ashelia's brow furrowed and she whispered, "Roxas, what are you planning on doing with this girl?"

Silence filled the air as Roxas' eyes fixated themselves on her ring finger before moving back to the ceiling. After a few more moments, she heard a quiet reply, "I… don't know."

Roxas shifted so his back was to his mother. Ashelia went over and sat on the edge of his bed, one hand on his shoulder. She murmured, "Roxas. I know you're hurting. The bond between you and your brother… is extraordinary. Losing someone like that… I know is traumatizing. But…"

Roxas tensed under her touch, "Where are you going with this?"

Ashelia hesitated before continuing, "You are my son, and I love you… but you cannot keep this habit of hurting people. There's no—"

"They don't know what it's like."

"Roxas—"

"So why can't I expand their horizons a little?"

Ashelia stared at her son's rigid form and bit her lip, "Did you ever give them a chance?"

"Of course, I—"

"Spilling your story and gauging their reaction is not giving them a chance."

Roxas grit his teeth and sat up to face his mother. "Mom. I don't know why you're bringing this up now because you haven't said anything before, but this is the bottom line: They don't hurt like I do. They don't feel what I do. No matter what I do, they won't. Understand." Roxas found himself standing, fists shaking. He didn't even realize he raised his voice until he saw the tears in his mother's eyes.

Ashelia surveyed her son's stiff posture and stared him down. With a quiet, but unwavering voice, she questioned, "How would you know if you've never asked? That they don't have their own pain to carry?"

He turned his head to the side, keeping silent. Ashelia stood up from the bed and ordered in a low, controlled voice, "Stay away from Naminé, Roxas. She doesn't need this foolish game of yours. Stay away from her until you figure out how to grow up."

Ignoring the jab about Naminé, Roxas twisted around and snarled, "I've grown up far too fast, and far too soon! Let me indulge myself!"

"You cannot indulge in other people's pain!"

"I don't! I'm just—"

"Just caught up in your own pain that you don't bother with the feelings of those around you."

Roxas felt his anger swell at his mother's words. Before he could speak again, Ashelia unrelentingly continued, "Pick up your broken pieces before you destroy someone else."

"I—!"

"Roxas, your mask has been on for so long… I feel like I do not know my own son anymore."

His anger ebbed when his mother's voice was filled with regret. Watching her leave, Roxas tried reach her but he stayed frozen on his bed. Ashelia lingered by the door, "Naminé… is a nice girl, with her own problems to face… she's also the niece of one of my closest friends. For her sake, please stay away until… until you get your compassion back."

Roxas sat speechless on his bed, unable to move as his mother shut his door with a quiet click. Out of reflex, he reached a hand out to his nightstand, feeling for the old worn leather-bound book. When his skin met the cool, smooth top of wood, a wave of panic washed over him. Whipping his head around, he stared at the empty table with shock.

Where could I have… Naminé.

Remembering that the blonde girl held his most valuable possessions, Roxas relaxed his posture and fell back against his bed. He glanced at the clock—about a quarter to 10. He squeezed his eyes shut. He had been up for roughly four hours now. It'd been one of those nights, when his memories plagued him. Flaunting the happiness of what could've been. The happiness he had vaguely wished for on his 10th birthday.

At that point in time, the separation from his brother was the last thing he would consider happy. On top of that, his parents got divorced and the separation was across the ocean. He thought the happiness he wished for was granted when he came home from school and found his brother waiting happily in the pantry, like he was never gone in the first place.

The summer visits continued for years and Roxas couldn't be happier unless his brother permanently moved to France with his mother and him. Then when he heard Sora would be coming earlier, his joy went through the roof. There was so much to tell him! So much to fill him in on! So much… he would never get to say.

The loss of his brother didn't crush him like he thought it would. No… that would've been much better. He would've felt something then. Instead, Roxas felt like he was hollowed out. Everything he ever was as a person was crudely carved out of him, leaving behind a frail shell he spent years hardening. With that hardening, he threw away the lingering emotions left in him. If he felt nothing at all, he wouldn't hurt anymore, right? His mother's words rang in this head and he squeezed his eyes shut.

Right. I didn't hurt anymore. I transferred whatever I felt to whoever was brave enough to stay by my side.

Sighing deeply, he opened his eyes and checked the time again. It was nearing 10. If he kept his promise, he should be heading over to the Farron household any second, but after that confrontation with his mother... Looks like I'll be breaking yet another promise.

Rolling over, Roxas faced the window and looked at the sky longingly. Seeing the blue made his eyes ache. He moved onto his back and welcomed the darkness his eyelids provided.

An image of Naminé popped in his head, her back facing him. Her light blonde hair floated in the air. Without thinking, he reached out to her. As she turned around, her blonde hair melted away to a short, jet black crop. Before he could register who the image shifted to, the hair morphed into longer brunette hair. His hand froze as the countless images of faceless girls flashed before him. Clenching his fist, Roxas snapped his eyes open and sprung from his bed.

Hastily moving towards his closet door, he wrenched it open. He picked up the closest bag and started to stuff stray clothes into it. He swung the half-zipped bag over his shoulder and headed towards his window. Undoing the latch, he scrutinized the drop down. I did it as a kid… I can do it again.

Climbing over the ledge as softly as he could, Roxas gave his shut door a lingering glance before crawling back inside to scribble a quick note to his mother. The pencil in his hand paused as he was about to sign his name at the bottom.

Does my mom really deserve this… I…

Roxas looked down at the bag and realized he had grabbed one of the bags Sora used and left behind during his visits. Choking down a lump in his throat, Roxas quickly swiped at his eyes before initialing his note. He moved towards his window and heaved himself over it. Briefly judging the distance from the ground, Roxas let go of the ledge.

He landed on the grass below roughly. Wincing from the heavier impact compared to when he was younger, Roxas straightened himself slowly. He decided to visit the memorial in the meadow before leaving.

Roxas took a seat on one of the smoothed down rocks and sighed deeply. Staring up at the sky, he smiled wryly, "Seems like I can't do anything right since you left, huh, Sora?"

"Roxas…"

He froze. Naminé. Every fiber of his being told him to just run, instead he found his body glued to the rock, unable to move. He had to make a decision, now. Fight or flight. What do I do?

"Roxas… please."

Flight. Roxas felt a coldness settle over his him as he decided to run again. His only comfort was his decision to stop whatever it was between them before he could hurt someone again. By causing pain even earlier. He grit his teeth. He might have been able to explain his brother to her, but there was no way he could even begin to talk about the pain he's caused others.

Steeling his resolve, Roxas turned around to face her and his heart leapt into this throat. He took in the steady stream of tears rolling down her face, her usually bright blue eyes lost and desperate. His mind blanked and his instincts took over. Free of his frozen spell, Roxas stood up from the rock and moved towards her.

As gently as he could, he lifted a finger to dry her cheeks. "Naminé…?"

She stood unresponsive in front of him. Roxas bit his lip and considered her barely controlled breathing and trembling form. Thinking back to their "date", he remembered how she was simply there for him. A solid presence that wasn't overbearing, just a silent offer of comfort if wanted.

If she's not going to talk, I'm not going to force her.

Cautiously, Roxas stepped closer to her and wrapped his arms around her. Her trembling became much more pronounced, breaths more ragged. Frowning, he tucked her head into his shoulder and just held her, rubbing soothing circles into her back.

Once her breathing evened out, Roxas heard a muffled voice speak into his shoulder, "Roxas…"

He stayed silent, waiting for her to speak.

"Take me away. Please… Anywhere."

Eyes widening, he leaned back to look at her, "Naminé…? What are you—". He broke off once he realized she couldn't see him. Naminé's eyes stared past him as her voice dropped into a whisper, "Anywhere but here."

A/N: Hello hello.

As usual... huge apologies for the delay. Summer worked out and didn't. I got academic experience in the lab as my summer job... but I definitely did not write as much as I wanted to. This is a long overdue update, and hopefully things will roll along at least once a month (maybe).

Just know that I will never give up on this story. No matter how long the gap is between updates. So if you stay with me, thank you. Truly.

Anyhow, I'm not sure how many of you follow my wordpress, but I've been posting there more frequently than I do here on updates for my life. Recently I posted a really long post about... well, me. haha. It also brought my inspiration back for HH as well as Value (and my purpose for writing in general), and I'll be writing another thing along these two, only it won't be posted here since it's much more personal.

-Caramel

And guess what? Only one French word this time, haha.

Title (L'Espérance): Hope