A/N: Hey everyone! Wow ... it's been a while, hasn't it? I'm SO sorry it took so long to get this thing up (it's a fairly short ones, at that, too) ... but your reviews are what kept me a chug-a-lug-lugging! Woohoo! Okay. That was pretty lame. Anyways, on with the chapter!
Disclaimer: Nope.
LiD: Rise and Crescendo
Chapter Thirteen: ad libitum
The watery paint of early morning was streaked across the canvas of the beige carpet. Naminé sat at the table in the small "sitting room" area, sipping her morning tea. The different flavours had been sitting by the coffee machine, along with an "Our Compliments" note from the hotel staff. Blonde tresses still damp from her shower, Naminé was still fairly warm from the rising sunlight.
She wore a powder blue skirt that curtained around her legs, just brushing past her knees. The ruffled, overlapping layers was complimented by simple ballet flats on her feet, and a loose off-white chemise. The short-sleeved chemise hung off her shoulders and folded in a kimono-style, neckline plunging enough for her to wear a spaghetti strap underneath. Tote bag tucked neatly at her feet, Naminé glanced anxiously at the clock again.
Only a quarter past eight. He had to be here soon – he was always impeccable about everything. Then again, he might be late, just to snub her and show her who's in charge; worse yet, he might completely stand her up, and the others would wake up and start asking questions.
Again.
Naminé sighed, resting her now empty cup back in its saucer. Last night had been a disaster – well, at least, coming back had been. Spending time with Roxas had been kind of enjoyable – oh, who was she kidding, it had actually been a blast (once she got past the original paranoia of the guy, sheesh). Roxas had been sweet enough, talkative and even witty. And pretty cute – well, not to mention he sort of had the initial "rocker/bad-ass" persona that caused many a swoon. Smirking slightly to herself, Naminé acknowledged that the young man was probably quite popular with the ladies.
Tick tock. Naminé scowled at the clock as the second hand danced rhythmically around the edges. Pretty soon, she'd be dealing with another lady-killer … unless, of course, she got to him first. She could only hope he'd hurry up before –
"Are you always up this early?" the silver-haired teen grumbled as he blearily collapsed onto a stool in the kitchenette. He was wearing red and black plaid pyjama-pants and a loose black t-shirt depicting some band symbol. One slender hand rubbing his eyes beneath his bangs, Riku leaned forwards on the counter with one elbow. Taking a moment to seemingly collect his thoughts, Riku's eyes narrowed beneath the curtain of silver bangs.
"Why dressed so early?"
Maybe, under other circumstances, Naminé would have been miffed for being patronized. However, mind drifting back to the night before, she couldn't help but flush. One hand tightening around the handle of her tote bag, Naminé responded softly,
"I was just going to… go out for a stroll."
"Wha-wait … you're kidding me, right? After that little show you put on yesterday, you're – "
Okay, now she was definitely miffed. Pressing her lips together like a dam, she made sure to only let a trickle of what she was thinking out. "Riku," she began, holding her voice steady. "I'm sorry, but you can't ground me, and I mean…" she bit her lip. This sort of assertively-approached method was way more Kairi's strength than it would ever be hers. Quickly, she added on, "Look, I promise I'll be careful, and I'll be home long before dark…"
"Yeah? How long?" Suddenly, Riku didn't sound so tired anymore. He stood and began shuffling around, making himself some coffee as his eyes remained on her. Naminé wasn't facing him – in fact, she'd only shifted a little in her seat since he entered – but she knew that he was watching her.
Turning around, Naminé replied, "Like, right after lunch? Just after noon?"
Riku hadn't dropped his scowl, but didn't say anything either. Instead, the loud grinding of the coffee machine kicked in, leaving the room in an odd sort of mechanized silence. Naminé dropped her eyes from him, and turned back around. Almost half past eight.
Finally, the machine stopped, and Riku was presumably pouring himself a cup when he asked, "Just after lunch? So who are you – " He was interrupted by a knock on the door.
Naminé jumped up from her seat, and scooted over to the front door, adjusting her tote bag as she went. Not even sparing Riku too much of a glance, Naminé locked eyes with him only briefly to say, "Don't worry – I'll be fine. Be back soon!". She quickly unlatched the door and slipped outside, face to face with the last person on earth she wanted to see right now.
However, unfortunately, punctual as always, the pompous asshole smirked down at her. Offering her his arm, he said loftily, "Naminé, my dear, shall we be on our way, then?"
Hating herself for both leaving them – leaving him – behind, and for even allowing herself near Marluxia ever again, Naminé accepted his arm. She knew this had all been coming, after all.
LiD
Curling his toes slightly, Roxas dimly wondered why he couldn't feel anything. He could move them, and the blood was flowing all right, but they felt… cold. Shuddering, Roxas flipped over onto his back where he lay, and groaned. The lights were on and turning the normally dark cover of his eyes into a reddish-pink burn. Furrowing his brow, Roxas cracked open one eye.
And all he saw was searing red.
Snapping his eyes shut again, Roxas momentarily panicked. Burning red! Like blood, like guts, like fire, like…
"Roxas, man, wake up," Axel drawled, one hand on Roxas' chest. Bare chest – hang on, whoa, why wasn't Roxas wearing a shirt? And pants? Holy shit, no pants! Blanket, blanket!
Trying his best not to squeal, Roxas scrambled to pull the strewn blanket back over him. Once it was fully up to his neck, exposing only his (burning) face, Roxas spluttered, "Why are you just standing there while I was like, like – "
"In your boxers?" Axel wiggled his fiery red eyebrows, smirking devilishly. "Aw, come on, it's not like this is the first time – "
"Whaddya mean?!" Roxas exclaimed, further burying himself in his blanket, shrinking away from big old scary Axel. Seriously, Axel was Roxas' best friend and all, but he was the biggest creeper sometimes, jeez.
Axel gave Roxas a jab in the chest with his elbow before standing up. Rolling his eyes and stretching, Axel yawned, "I mean the last time you slept over at my house I hid a video camera in my shower, dickwad. What do you think I mean?" Roxas was painfully aware of the pink tinge in his face, but he refused to dignify Axel's vulgarity. Honestly.
Axel cocked an eyebrow, and nudged Roxas again, this time with his foot. "Roxas, stop being such a girl. Think freshman gym class, friggin' turd." With that, Axel moved to the kitchenette and began putting the coffee pot through its paces. Roxas listened to the mechanical whirring of the machine, eyes towards the ceiling. Something seemed off… last night… why was he on the couch, again? He…
"Axel?" Roxas mumbled, maneuvering so that he was sitting up. Craning his neck around so Axel was in his sight, Roxas watched Axel pour coffee while he continued, "Um, about yesterday, look, I – "
Axel held up a hand to silence the blond, instead coming around and offering a mug of coffee to him. Sitting perched on the edge of the couch, Axel grinned sheepishly, "Don't worry about it, man, it was my problem. I acted like a total dick, huh?"
A trickle of relief ran down his spine, spreading a tingly sensation through. Sipping his drink (Roxas noted appreciatively that it was hot chocolate with a touch of caffeine), Roxas replied, "No! I just – I … I was hanging out with – "
"Dude, whatever. I don't need to hear, okay? Doesn't matter."
Roxas shifted uncomfortably, and said, "Well, today, see, I was gonna go out and – "
Axel's eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a sip from his own coffee. "Oh?" Axel said, the dull edge of his malice blade striking Roxas sorely. Roxas, having finished most of his hot chocolate, stared into the cup. Attempting to shrug nonchalantly, Roxas replied,
"Well, I just had some things to do… it's nothing big! You can come, too, it's no big deal…"
"Rox, I already had other plans – "
"Oh, well, I'll be finished really, really quick – "
"Rox – "
"Honest! I just had some stuff to buy, people to – "
Axel shot up and dropped their mugs in the sink. Flipping over so that he was leaning on the counter, Axel scowled. "Okay, Rox, just be back here at like, noon."
Roxas, for all of the indignation of being told what to do, kept his mouth shut. Silence roamed the room as Axel slipped his coat on and stepped outside, presumably getting dressed. Roxas stood up, wrapping his blanket around him. His jeans and t-shirt lay in a neatly folded pile at the end of the couch, and he finally noticed that he had an extra blanket that had fallen off at some point in the night. Sighing, Roxas moved to the bedroom he had previously been exiled from – the sooner he was out of this hotel, the sooner he could shake off this feeling.
Axel was so weird.
LiD
Her hair shifted slightly in the wind, but the bucket hat she'd thrown on broke most of the cold. The flaxen tresses were flowered against her shoulder, now fully dry (granted, all out of shape), and she tossed them aside when she turned to say, "So, Marluxia, if I may so enquire, why are we here so early in the morning?"
"Well, Naminé, I've yet to forget your habits," the young man responded, his hair the colour of breaking dawn. Leaning back in the elegantly shaped, but still plastic, chair, Marluxia smiled wolfishly. "Always the early-riser – now if only you could keep up with the rest of the game that fast…"
Naminé scowled, but she was careful to remain passive. Instead, smiling slightly, she replied, "Marluxia, honestly. I'm fine – I just missed a few calls over the summer, all right? And besides, I'm here anyways, aren't I?"
The pensive smile that had yet to leave Marluxia's face only broadened. Quirking an elegant eyebrow, Marluxia examined his nails for some non-existent dirt. Naminé almost did scowl, had she not been keeping careful track of her own emotions. This was a waste of her time. A total waste – her only consolation was that nobody knew what scoundrel she was hanging out with.
At least, she hoped so.
Hopefully, Riku hadn't done something obsessive like take a mad dash and gaze out the peephole of the door once Naminé had left. Or waited at the window to see where she was going and who she was with. If he did, that would only prove he was a weirdo – Naminé was in no way, shape or form pleased. Or a little flattered. Nor did she have to bite her lip a bit to keep from giggling over supposed jealousy, and her face was totally not pink thinking about how flaky she seemed.
"Here you are, Sir and Mademoiselle! Your orders …" This was no fancy restaurant – in fact, they were sitting outside in a small Guado café. Everything on the menu had a touch of seafood to it (Naminé would have a note to never bring Sora here), and the creatures who ran the place were a strange lot. Granted, she'd seen her fair share of different races in Radiant Garden, but never these Guado. They were short; their skin tinged mildly blue, grey or green (much like the aquatic creatures they served); their hair was either green or blue, and always sort of wriggly and poking upwards; their legs short in proportion to their torsos, but their arms were rather long and kind of… flat. Like flippers, or something.
Either way, Naminé tried not to stare too much. Pulling her plate close to her, Naminé began tossing around the salad, not quite hungry. Her and Marluxia had been walking around for almost an hour – which was saying something, considering Marluxia normally had a chauffer to drive him everywhere – before coming here for lunch.
Goodness, she had better learn something useful soon, or she'd have to go back to the hotel with a guilty conscience and a heavy heart. Thinking back to last night, Naminé remembered how she ended up with the smirking slime ball seated across from her.
After Kai had dismissed Naminé to their room, and with Sora and Kai not looking like they would be getting up anytime soon, Naminé had pulled out her cell phone. Everything Roxas had said … the competition, Larxene, 'something foul being afoot'… Naminé had taken the only route open to her for information – Marluxia. She had quickly texted her ex, taking him up on his offer to… ew, spend time with him. She received a reply by the next morning – why Marluxia was up that late, who knew – proclaiming that he was honoured to spend time with such a dear old friend, and would she be so kind as to join him for a quaint little lunch?
Naminé tuned back into reality, and found Marluxia was talking loftily about something or rather. Dammit! Why hadn't she been paying attention?
"… and I'm sure he'd be most pleased with any of your work. You've quite the eye for detail … would you mind if I took a look?" Naminé glanced up at Marluxia, and raised her eyebrows. Huh? Her mind grasping at the small threads of his words that she had picked up on, she wove together enough to reach into her tote bag. Pulling out her sketchbook, she handed it across the table. After all these years of studying and displaying art at Radiant Garden, she found herself far less self-conscience than she had once been.
Marluxia flipped through, mostly for old time's sake. Naminé grimaced slightly when she thought of their past – the extravagant dates, the over-the-top romantic interludes, the elated praise… and yet, for all of his complexities and intricacies of character, Marluxia was about as deep as the rain hitting the pavement.
"Mmm, yes, you know, I should love to see some of your completed paintings. My father's been looking to redecorate our home, you know – " that grinded on her nerves, the way he just threw out the word home, like he actually knew what it meant – "and I'm sure they your paintings would sell for a great amount…"
Naminé sighed, not really listening anymore. She really needed to get away from his incessant, insolent chatter. Stupid sucking-up, lying, conniving…
She stood up quite suddenly, that Marluxia folded the book with his thumb marking the spot. "Yes?" he asked, eyes unreadable yet trained on the blonde.
Forcing a pleasant smile, Naminé scooped up her tote bag and responded, "I'm just going to the washroom, Marluxia. I'll be right back." Marluxia nodded and went back to absent-mindedly flipping through her book, this time starting from the back. As she turned to head to the bathroom inside, Marluxia frowned a bit and asked, "A poem, Naminé?"
Naminé glanced over, and cringed. The page was a total mess, scribbles everywhere. "No … lyrics I was working on with a friend." Marluxia's frown became even more pronounced, when he started reading out, "Dear Craptacular – my bad, Reeking-Poo… who's Reeking-poo? My my, Naminé, the caliber of your friends really has – "
"It was just a joke!" Naminé exclaimed, mortified. Her face, which had been going steadily redder, was now searing red. She leaned over to sweep the book from, but Marluxia laughed and dodged the sweep.
"My apologies, my apologies, not my place to judge…" Marluxia noticed Naminé glowering at him, so he flipped back to the middle of her book. "I'll leave it be! I'm simply admiring an artist's work, honestly, Naminé…"
Naminé, rolling her eyes, slipped away and found her way to the bathroom.
Running her hands under the cool water from the sink, Naminé sighed. Waste of her time. This whole morning had all been to help out LiD, and what does she get for her trouble? A funny tasting meal, a stuck up prick for a "date" and a headache. Wonderful.
She could have been spending the day with the band (or just with Riku, but that thought made her go slightly pink), or even sought out Roxas again, or just cruising around …
After smoothing out her hair, Naminé dried her hands on a paper towel and slipped out the bathroom door. She was the inside of the restaurant, with huge glass ceilings and walls, similar table set-ups – Naminé glanced towards the smoking section briefly, thinking maybe Roxas would be hanging out … anything to get her off this really bad date. Maneuvering around tables, customers and the Guado waiters, Naminé pushed open the large glass doors.
"Hey!" Naminé cried out when a hand wrapped around her wrist. What the hell? Who – "Marluxia? What are you – "
"Naminé!" Marluxia exclaimed, looking harried, and didn't stop dragging her through the crowd. "Naminé, Larxene just called – apparently I'm needed with the judges – "
"Now?" Truthfully, Naminé relaxed, thankful for the excuse to leave the pink-haired jerkwad. "What was it – "
"There's been a problem with one of the judges – they've fallen ill, apparently. They need the Radiant Garden representatives there, since this is an official matter …"
Naminé frowned, allowing herself to be dragged to the street. Marluxia looked a little strained – worried, even? No, Naminé knew very well he didn't give a damn about anyone save his own sorry ass. Perhaps … 'fallen ill', huh? He couldn't have … no, even he wouldn't physically harm another … then again, what did she know? This guy was a total ass, and she'd dumped him before finding out just how much more of an ass he could be …
"Naminé, look, we'll take this cab and I'll drop you off … where's your hotel, again?"
Naminé gave him the address as she stepped into the taxi beside him. Marluxia was in one of his super-efficient, yet totally-lazy-ass modes again; they never got him far, aside from a headache. Naminé wanted to roll her eyes, or even to pester him with more questions, but her own head was still swimming with ideas.
Within no time, Naminé was dropped off in front of her hotel, and Marluxia waved her good bye as he pulled out his cell phone. Briefly, she heard him snapping at someone – sounded like Larxene about this whole judge business – and Naminé made her way up the path. Just a quarter past noon – no big deal. Not nearly as late as last time, anyways, and she'd pretty much kept to her word.
Still though, clutching her tote bag, Naminé quickened her pace. One could never be too careful.
LiD
Out in the hustle and bustle of the streets, and with the putrid sweetness of MJ settling in his veins, Roxas felt way more relaxed. It was so much easier to duck into alleyways, get lost in crowds, tuck away into shops … you never knew who you could run into. Especially when you were Roxas, who was currently feeling like the Most Wanted man in the world.
Honestly, his nerves were completely shot (although that was slowly starting to fade too, thank goodness), and he swore he'd seen Larxene at least ten times (he tried following at least seven) and Sora look-alikes had appeared at like every freaking corner. Which was saying something, considering his cousin's hair defied friggin' gravity.
Then again, his ability to differentiate the sharp lines of colour contrast was really lacking currently. At least he'd managed to dress himself before getting high, though, sheesh.
He was wearing a deep blue zip-up hoodie, a white wife-beater underneath, and the obligatory baggy jeans. Today, too, since it was sunny but still windy, Roxas threw on a baseball cap. With the zipper only pulled half way up but with the hood up over the baseball cap, the sweater gave way to an almost off-the-shoulder, sloppy appearance. His jeans, thankfully, were snugly riding on his waist and fitted enough to counter the otherwise shoddy outfit. Mostly, Roxas' family would die of shame were they to see Roxas going out in public like that. Heaven forbid.
Just the thought was enough to make Roxas scowl – and duck further into his hood, lowering his gaze. If he ran into Larxene… well, okay, he'd promised Naminé to be on the lookout, but that hardly justified dealing with the bitchiest bitch in the whole universe of bitches –
"You know, Rox, we should probably get heading back again soon … Axel and Xiggy are gonna wanna practice, or something," Demyx offered, trailing behind Roxas. The faux-hawked teen had caught Roxas on the way out of the hotel, where Demyx had been toking out under the cover of umbrella trees and huge hedges. Needless to say, Roxas had taken his fair share of drags on the sloppily-made joint (Dem had been on his third, and numb fingers could never accomplish anything properly).
His mind still clouded by the hazy smoke that had surrounded the two earlier that morning, Roxas sighed, the sound like a gust of wind to his heightened senses. "I told you – Axel said noon. Be back by noon, 'cause then we're gonna have a practice and you wanna practice." The words were rolling off his tongue, which felt dry and sluggish in his mouth. His whole friggin' mouth was dry – crap, he wanted a drink. Something smooth and creamy and … ice cream.
What was that parlour they had gone to yesterday?
Grimacing while trying to recall the thought, Roxas pulled out a cigarette and brought it to his mouth. Fortunately, he wasn't stoned enough for his hands to be trembling (at least, he thought so … hard to be sure at times like these, though) – people were already giving him strange/pissed-off enough looks for bumping into them. A few shaky (okay, so maybe he'd been wrong) tries later, he was puffing on the stupid stick. Stupid friggin' nicotine, making him stupid friggin' want it.
Taking a moment to lean against the brick wall of a nearby building, Roxas groaned. Despite his lethargic perception, his head and heart were pounding – to make matters worse, he was pretty freaking sure he just saw a brown, spiked ball of hair. A bus had come into view, but Roxas had been so sure …
… shit! Holy frickin' shit!
"Dem!" Rox cried, not being able to enunciate his friend's whole name. "Crap! Move!" The sudden whirl around, however, did not help Roxas' situation, and he couldn't even make out where Demyx was for a moment. Stumbling slightly (and bumping into a few pedestrians along the way), Roxas nearly crashed into the fellow blond. "Demy!"
"Demy?"
"Whatever! He… my cousin, over there …" Roxas vaguely waved his hand in what he thought was the general direction. Dammit all, it was so freaking hard to get the nerves in his head working to process the information. "Cousin! Sora! You know!"
Something dawned on Demyx's face, and he nodded quickly (a little stupidly, granted). Roxas had explained back at the hotel what the situation was – well, briefly. Not that Dem needed a full run down – after three years, they knew each other well enough.
Dem, reacting pretty quickly considering the circumstances, grabbed Roxas and ducked into an alleyway. It wasn't a very long alleyway – there was just a dumpster, crap on the ground and the other side of the street, sunlight streaming in. On the other side of the street, Roxas could vaguely make out the sounds of a commotion, people shifting…
"Crap!" Dem's voice snapped Roxas' attention around. "Crap, yo, your cousin, spiky brown hair, goofy grin, and… uh… uh…" Dem squinted. "Redhead girlfriend?"
Roxas gulped, his throat itchy and dry – this musty, dark alley wasn't helping either. "Yeah, that's him …"
"Well, dude, he's coming straight this – "
"No! You idiot, I do not want any of your second-rate, cheap perfume! Why don't you try selling it to the whores you probably tuck into every night!" a sharp female voice split the dull noise of the streets. Roxas had physically winced – there was only one lady evil enough with a shrill voice like that –
"Honestly, Zexion, must we go to another bookstore … oh, move along, brat. Nothing to see here!" Larxene was standing on the other end of the alley.
"Dude! Your cousin … you definitely don't wanna see him, right? 'Cause this might be a family reunion if you don't move – "
"SHH!" Roxas spat, backing away. Any minute now, Larxene would turn and glance down the alley, Roxas threw his cigarette on the ground and crushed it under his shoe, backing away. The blonde woman was standing there, arms crossed, eyes focused across the street where a large bookstore stood. She was tapping her foot impatiently, swinging her blonde hair over her shoulder, glancing around angrily in her taut and sharp suit. Any second…
" … relax, Kai, promise not to try to poke anything this time… I know! Ow! I wasn't making fun!"
"Dude, like, move, now…" Dem hissed …
… "Sora, honestly, if you had any self-respect, you'd take that stupid hat off…"
… "What are you looking at, woman? Keep moving, honestly, people …"
"DUDE!"
"Oof!"
Roxas gasped, the rush of blood in his head still swirling. He was sitting – no, laying in the dumpster, with his feet hanging out. "Tuck those away!" he heard Demyx hiss, and he felt Demyx lean against the dumpster. Roxas, though disgusted, obliged and tucked away his feet. The dumpster wasn't too bad … they were behind a clothing store, it seemed, so mostly it was just scrap, bags of magazines, coffee cups (ewww) and … snack food. Roxas groaned internally and prayed nothing was old enough to cling to him.
"Buddy, you know, that's not the most sanitary place to be … you okay?"
Ah, his cousin. Always the do-gooder. Roxas squirmed a bit inside, but the sensation was rather dull against the brick wall of good old cannabis in his system. That knowledge in itself brought more guilt to Roxas, along with the fact that he was craving his not-finished cigarette, his head was pounding as he came down from his (relatively weak) high, and, well… he was sitting in a dumpster, quite frankly.
"Pssht, whatever. It's, like, my thing."
He couldn't tell what happened next, but after a pause he heard his cousin say, "Well, okay … just checking. Bye!"
"Wait - Sora, you can't actually eat that thing..." Kairi whined. "You're going to make yourself sick. Again - "
"Okay, okay! Relax! I'll get rid of it, party-pooper..." Sora grumbled, and Roxas braced himself. Oh, shit, what the hell could his cousin have picked up that -
Ew - ew - ewwww! Why the hell was Sora eating ... just what was that? Groaning - the stuff had been rather warm, and landed on his chest/face area, Roxas was able to tell from the smell. His step-mother had ordered it, once, or parts of it at least, when they'd gone out to a fancy restaurant ... was that, chunks of lemon-marinated tuna tossed with ... hmmm, Mussels? Mussels and ... clams, shrimp and potatoes in a slightly spicy broth of garlic and white wine, along with ... felt like... trofie coated with pesto.
Totally disgusting, especially when it was freaking sitting on him.
"About time you got back, Zexion, honestly, I thought I was going to die standing by this disgusting alley… the people that come by, honestly …"
Roxas sighed, and popped his head over the top of the dumpster, icky goo sliding off his face. Dammit all, he was gonna have to change again when he got back to the hotel. Dem was leaning against the tub, looking passively cool (stoned) and Roxas had to roll his eyes. "Did it work?" Roxas asked mildly. Demyx glanced up, and asked, mouth agape,
"Dude, whoa, why've you got that shit on your face? Seriously." Roxas rolled his eyes.
"Are they gone, Dem?" You couldn't talk any sense into people that were as far-gone as Demyx, jeez.
"Huh? Obviously. Come down, sheesh, before you start to stink!" Dem giggled a bit at the word, and leaned against the dumpster for support. Rolling his eyes (well, attempting – Roxas had to stop, because it was making his head throb), Roxas crawled out of the dumpster, swinging one leg …
"Shit!"
Roxas lay on the ground of the alley, feeling utterly pathetic. A few passer-bys gave them strange looks, but Roxas couldn't care less at this point. Groaning, he reached into his pocket, pulled out yet another cigarette, and lit up. Screw it all, at this point. Everything was uphill from here.
LiD
What the hell? Who was that pink-haired loser anyways? Marmalade, or something? Dammit, he would ask as soon as she came back. Seriously. Riku would just march up to her, and be like, "All right, that's it; what's with the jerk?" And Naminé would answer (he'd make sure of it), because she would know he was just worried about her safety; that was it. His entire morning of contemplation and frustration was because the last time that asshole came around, Naminé and Kairi totally blew up at each other. Riku was just worried about the band; that was all.
Sitting on the couch with two laptops set out – Kairi's and Tidus' – in front of him, Riku clicked away at the keys in hopes of some mild distraction. They'd submitted their quota of lyrics already – thankfully – and Riku was working on mixing some of the other songs. It wasn't his forte, but he really needed something to do. It was only to his great misfortune that it wasn't working. Mind preoccupied, he was ready to just smash the two machines together in the hopes of creating a gigantic explosion that give way to a blackhole and suck the world in.
Angry much, Riku?
It was at that moment that the hotel room's front door swung open, and the little blonde herself slipped in. Riku glanced at the digital clock on the screen in front of him, and through his peripheral, he could see Naminé's feet scuffle by. Without raising his eyes from the screen, he asked calmly, "Have fun?"
The girl gave a start – obviously, she hadn't noticed him there. In fact, she looked pretty harried right now. Her hair was sticking up a bit, her cheeks were flushed and she looked generally annoyed. Blue eyes softening slightly when she saw him (Riku couldn't help but feel inherently pleased), she responded quietly, "It was… all right. We got cut short, though."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah – my… er, companion was needed elsewhere.'
"Companion, huh? That uber-important Marmalade-guy?" Wow, very subtle, Riku. Very subtle. Silver bangs fringing his eyes, Riku glanced at the laptop he was currently on. Expert-Tools software was running, the audio busses and sound waves pulsing lightly, although the channels were muted.
Naminé dropped her gaze, and fidgeting slightly, she said, "How – how'd you know?"
Well, that wasn't a suspicious reply, not at all. Rolling his eyes internally, Riku attempted to look nonchalant. Off-handedly, he remarked, "I was out on the balcony. I saw you guys walking, that's all – and I mean, how many guys have pink hair?"
"So… so you were spying?" She sounded a little angry. Riku frowned – it hadn't sounded that bad to his ears… maybe her anger was a little misplaced?
"No, I just happened to see – "
"Spectacular timing, really," Naminé snapped , looking honestly frazzled at this point. Yup, definitely misplaced anger… but why the hell take it out on him? Wounded slightly, Riku retorted with equal sharpness,
"Well, it's not like you ever tell anyone what's going on – I might as well take the initiative – "
"I don't need to be baby-sat," Naminé said quietly. She had moved so she was standing by the glass doors leading out to the balcony – eyes focused yonder, not even looking at Riku. The silver-haired teen was confused, and a little angry – she was the one just blowing up at random guys, then hanging out with said random guys, then missing out for awhile, then popping back…
"Well, you need someone to actually pay attention for you!" Riku exclaimed, shutting closed both laptops, as he shot her an icy glare. Women, honestly, and Kairi wanted to know why he wasn't out there "playing the field"? Scowling still, Riku continued, "You freaked out over a guy, went missing for a day just to hang with a friend, leave first thing to wine and dine with the first guy – "
Naminé turned around, and for a moment, her eyes were wide – then they quickly narrowed, and Riku saw the startling resemblance to Kairi. "How do you even know if I was 'wining and dining' some – "
"Well, why else would you buddy up with the same guy who threw you into, like, a panic attack when you guys met?"
"It wasn't – "
"What else? Get together and play some flute? Some piano? Sketch a few portraits – "
She swept from the sitting area, then, slamming the door of the bedroom shut behind her with a loud thud. Riku swallowed, feeling immediately guilty, but he tried to push it down. He had been looking out for her after all… right? Maybe she'd realize that, and come around… although… her eyes had once again been covered by her downcast head and the cascading bangs – but she had been clutching her tote bag rather hard as she had stormed past. Riku grimaced to himself, attempting to go back to his music work. But now, worse than ever, he was completely distracted.
How the hell did Sora manage it?
LiD
Who the heck did that guy think he was?
With an angry sigh, Naminé collapsed onto her bed. How could he … Riku had no idea … argh! Punching her pillow (rather pathetically), Naminé sprawled out, tote bag resting on the floor beside her.
Why did it always seem like they both brought out the worst in each other?
And who the hell was he to make fun of her? It didn't matter what Riku thought – her passions were hers, not ammo to use against her. What an … briefly, Naminé thought with satisfaction about all the things Roxas had to say about Riku. There was a very bitter feeling to this, though – Naminé and her stupid conscience felt slightly guilty. Partly for being so cruel to Riku – no matter how upset, she would not sink to his level – and partly just for thinking about Roxas. It was obvious that Riku was … well, jealous – it was also obvious that he and Roxas weren't exactly best friends.
Naminé cringed, wondering what Riku would think if he found out she'd spent a whole day with the "enemy" … maybe, if they ever got back to talking normally, she'd just tell him she was kidnapped. That would probably be safer than saying his name. Not that Riku would freak out at her … he must've spent enough time with Kairi to know that wasn't a smart move. No, Naminé suspected he'd hunt down Roxas, and…
… Naminé groaned again, flipping over to lay on her stomach. Roxas – if she said anything, then they would know that he was here … she promised not to tell anyone, but Sora and Riku … they'd want to know, wouldn't they? Especially with what Roxas told her about Larxene's stupid little games she was playing – and Naminé had been totally useless to learn anything from Marluxia. Still though, she was sure that the jerk had something to do with it.
Here she was, giving up her time, messing up her reputation, all for the band. And Riku wasn't even grateful. Pouting, Naminé reached for her sketchbook. She needed to get this all off her mind, needed to let go …
… Whoa. Sketchbook? Naminé pushed herself so that she was hanging over the bed, and she flipped over her tote bag. Sketchbook? Oh no, no, no, no … sliding to the floor, Naminé sagged. You've got to be kidding me … dammit! She must have left it behind at the café – had Marluxia been holding it in the taxi? Closing her eyes and leaning against her bed, she groaned. No, he definitely hadn't been – idiot just left it there in his rush. Typical Marluxia, to not give a damn about anyone but himself. Arrogant prat.
Sighing, Naminé hoped that the next patrons at the restaurant were kind enough to hand it in to the Guado who ran the place. She could go back tomorrow and check.
Oh, but if it wasn't there, and someone took it … Naminé could feel tears welling up. It had been such a long freaking day, and she had worked so hard on all the sketches … some of those were summer assignments! She'd have to redo them all if they weren't there … frustration, anger, anxiety all rattled her from the inside, and before she knew it, tears were running down her face.
What the hell.
LiD
Pacing around the room, Axel scowled deeply. His red mane was a little frazzled, partly from the wind outside, mostly from staying up all night worrying. Okay, so he'd over-reacted a bit with Roxas. He didn't even take the time to ask who or what the blond had been doing – then again, even now, Axel was terrified (dying) to know.
Wincing slightly, Axel glanced at the clock. Xigbar was still in the pool downstairs, flirting with the cute lifeguard in a bikini – no big deal. Xiggy knew the score, and he had promised to be up in like twenty minutes. It was almost noon – Roxas was supposed to be back by now, and so was Demyx. He had no idea where either of them were – Axel himself had taken the time off.
Cruised some bars, thought about Roxas, checked out the local ladies, sulked over Roxas, checked out some of the hotter guys, moped over Roxas …
… his life story, really.
Axel stopped pacing for a moment, and stared at the door. Dammit, his nerves were totally wrecked. His hands were shaking, and Axel was dying for a cigarette – not that he could light up in this stupid hotel room. And besides, Roxas would be back soon, then they'd have a talk and leave to practice – Axel could just smoke then. After the talk. Talking was important.
Almost as soon as Axel had started pacing again, the room to the hotel clicked open. And, as it swung open with agonizing lethargy, Axel peeked around. Roxas!
"H-hey," Axel managed to say as smoothly as he could. Okay, so he was mostly a smooth guy, but could you blame him for sometimes losing focus around the one and only Roxas?
"Yo," Roxas replied, throwing a shopping bag on the kitchenette counter. As he passed Axel, the redhead could smell cigarette smoke, dope, and a whole lot of other stinky fish smells that Axel wasn't so sure about. But still, to someone like Axel, the smell was heaven. Okay, Roxas could smell like anything and be like heaven, but still. Stupid kid, being stupidly wonderful all the friggin' time. Axel perched himself so he was sitting on the counter. Roxas himself had slipped into the bedroom, pulling off his shirt as he went. Axel heard the sounds of Roxas digging through his bag and the tap running - still feeling anxious, Axel poked through Roxas' bag.
Nothing exciting, just the usual … and, a music book, for the flute? Axel frowned. It was some classical book, the composer being some Maestro Sephiroth guy … Roxas emerged, wearing a sport grey t-shirt and a deep red zip-up vest with a fresh pair of jeans. Collapsing onto the couch, Roxas leaned back and rubbed his eyes. Axel asked, "Picking up another instrument, then?"
"Naw," he said, breathing still a bit heavy. "It's just for a friend."
"Who?" Axel inquired, flipping through the book. Roxas leaned back and covered his eyes in the crook of his elbow.
"Just a friend I met up with yesterday, when I was out – " Axel felt slightly stung, that Roxas hadn't even bothered to hesitate when mentioning the cause of their fight last night (butthead) " – and I thought she'd like – "
"Who's she?" Okay, maybe that was more interrogative than necessary. But still, Axel was feeling increasingly on edge with Roxas' attitude. Roxas didn't particularly seem to notice, instead taking a deep, labouring breath before answering,
"A friend, Axel, Nam – "
"So you basically blew us off for some girl?" Axel asked, doing his best to mask in his hurt (and jealousy; can't ignore that).
Roxas lowered his arm, and raised his eyebrows. Roxas' eyes were pink, his breathing heavy – a tumble down from a high, no doubt. Axel tried to keep that in mind; tried to keep his empathy in tact. But still, just thinking, just imagining Roxas out hitting it off with some girl –
"I'm sorry! What does it matter, anyways? We were just hanging … "
– sure, Axel should be happy for his friend and this newfound love, but –
" … and we grabbed some ice cream …"
– but what about him? What about Axel? What about being tired of just waiting around and letting Roxas get swept up with these stupid prisses who didn't get shit? Didn't know shit about Roxas, or about anything, or about –
" … are you even list – "
"Sure, Rox, whatever! Did you do the same thing with Olette, too?" Axel exclaimed, exasperation hitting new peaks. Roxas looked genuinely confused.
"What? What does this have anything to do with – "
"Olette, Roxas! You spent a whole freaking day with her, and then you went off with some other chick today … how do I know if that's true? How many girls in between?"
Roxas was shocked, to say the least. Completely flabbergasted, he responded, "What? Who cares?! It's just – so what if I've been with, like, fifty girls since yesterday, that – "
"I can't believe you!" Axel jumped down from the counter, anger, desperation, jealousy, and an incredibly punctured heart – "Dude, you are so friggin' lame! Why would you even – "
"You're taking this way over the top, Ax – " Roxas stood up from the couch (albeit, a bit wobbly), glaring back at Axel. "Ax, you – "
"You're not taking this seriously enough, you – you – you asshole!"
"Whoa! What the hell?! Why – "
Axel raked his fingers through his hair, grabbing a fistful. "You just don't get it, huh, Rox – "
"Holy FRIG; would you just let me finish a friggin' sentence, for go – "
What Axel did next, he did with sweeping ecstasy and deep regret. It had only taken a few strides to get within centimeters of his face; a mere second to grab Roxas' zipped up vest and drag him near; and just a single breath before closing in –
Axel's lips crashed on to Roxas'.
Maybe it last only for a few fleeting seconds, for just a single moment – but to Axel that moment meant more than a heartbeat or a breath of life. It was – everything just froze, and he could taste Roxas; not the ashy cigarettes, the breath contaminated with weed, not even the coffee, but everything, was just Roxas, his tongue, his lips –
– Roxas' feet came out from under him, and they sank onto the couch –
– for one second, it felt as if Roxas pressed back, kissed his best friend back –
– but then Roxas had shoved Axel roughly off of him, and was standing up beside the couch, eyes wide. Axel flipped over on the couch to face the blond, waiting for him to say anything, something – to explode, to hit him, better yet, kiss him back …
But Roxas simply backed away, biting his slightly swollen lip. He kept his gaze locked with Axel for a moment, expression shocked and yet unreadable, before turning sharply around. Within seconds, Roxas had thrown open the door and had swept from the room, leaving the door hanging wide open.
Axel sank deep into the couch, buried his face in his hands and tried not to make a sound.
A/N: All right, that's it for now! Dramatic, no? Mind, its knowing that people like you guys actually wanna read this stuff that really pushes me, so make sure you review! Please? And of course, I'll always reply, as long as I've got the contact info, so feel free to make suggestions/ask questions (I'll answer as much as I can, of course). Thanks in advance, guys!
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