Author's Note:
Enjoy! Nothing too serious… ;D
It was true that Roxas didn't live too far away. He simply got on a bus, marble pressed into his pocket, thinking quietly to himself. He lived on the less industrial side of Hollow Bastion, in a beat-up, cheap apartment close to the university.
After disembarking from the large – and mostly vacant – bus, Roxas had merely a block to walk until he was home. The blonde teen curled his arms around himself to keep the cold wind at bay, faintly distracted by the soft clink of the crystal against his phone within his pocket.
The apartment complex loomed up around the next corner; to the left half, the apartments were new. To the right- where Roxas lived –the building was much more of an eyesore.
The gray-maroon paint was dull, dirty and chipping in some places, clothing hung over balcony railings; rust coated most of the outside metal structures. Sighing to himself at the faintly homey sight, Roxas pushed his key into the lock and let himself into the 'main lobby', checking the mail before wandering down the hall into his first-story room.
It was big – not nearly as big as Seifer's place – but perfectly suited for tiny little Roxas. The doorway opened up into a kitchen, which was more or less a three-foot-wide strip of linoleum flanked by a fridge, oven, some vomit-green counters and white cabinets, and one white microwave.
Roxas slid out of his Etnies, leaving them in to the entryway before purposely sliding across the slick floor in his socks, dropping his keys and phone on the countertop as he passed. When he ran out of linoleum, the teen clumsily regained his balance and shuffled across the khaki-brown carpeted living room, a large balcony with sliding glass doors looking out into the parking lot. The room was laid with a well-used gray couch dividing the room in two, turned to face a small TV on the left side.
Behind the couch was a white wall with a door, which, when opened, lead into Roxas's bedroom. The dirty carpet continued into an OCD-neat set of bookshelves, a desk with an old, wheezing computer, and a crisp, starchy, well-made bed.
But Roxas chose to throw himself down unto the couch, legs draping over one arm of the old piece of furniture, even with his short height. He drew the smooth sphere from his pocket, though very little light was coming into the room now, which dulled the magical aura that had once surrounded the little memento.
Roxas yawned, staring deeply into the bauble, trying hard to find the movement within it again. The boy was too tired to try for long, however, and soon fell asleep, the marble dropping from his fingers and bouncing under the couch.
Almost a week later, while Roxas edited his sheet music that was due the next day for Music Composure class, his cell phone rang, from its usual place on the kitchen counter. Pushing away from the desk with an angry mumble, the short blonde hurried to answer the trilling device.
"Hello, Roxas Klein here." He answered, eager to get back finish his song.
"Hey, Roxas!" a bright voice chirped.
"Oh, hey, Hayner."
"Well, don't sound so happy to hear from me."
"I was doing stuff for school, Hayner." Roxas pacified, grinning despite himself.
"Well, I was just calling to see if you wanted to go get some coffee with me. I'll be headed your way as it is…"
Roxas rubbed at the tense, aching muscles of his lower neck- he could thank his homework for that. He could also use something warm, and it wouldn't kill him to be social every once in a while.
"As long as Seifer isn't coming, I'll be at the café in a few minutes."
Hayner laughed. Roxas hadn't been joking.
After he'd hung up, Roxas turned off the lights in his bedroom and meandered through the kitchen to the door, grabbing his keys and pushing them down in his pocket along with his phone and the blue marble. Donning a thin brown hoodie and slipping into his sneakers, Roxas left, making sure to lock the door behind him.
Outside was gray and cloudy, the beginnings of winter slowly crawling into the dreary city. To think, that barely a year ago, back in the warmth and spring, Hayner and Seifer had first met, and now it was practically impossible to think or see one without the other. Smirking ever so faintly at the thought, Roxas pulled his hood up against a harsh wind, pushing his hands deep into his jean pockets.
Roxas was faintly jealous. Sure, he knew that Hayner was happy, and that was good, but where was Roxas's…. well… Where was his big fling, significant other, anything?
Having been a social recluse and being born with a short temper and pessimistic attitude hadn't made him exceptionally popular. There had been days when he'd counted his blessings to know Olette, Pence and Hayner. And then there had been the days when he'd have done anything for the courage to just end it all.
But now he was doing well- good college, learning about what interested him, working part time at the local music and instrument shop. And he couldn't help but be happy around Hayner, the way the other boy acted. He was radiating happiness these days.
Roxas entered the local café, relishing the warmth and the heady smell of coffee. He pulled his hood back, raked a hand back through his short, unruly blonde hair, and then proceeded to order for both himself and Hayner. Leaning back against the counter while waiting for the drinks, Roxas was startled out of his comfort-smell induced haze by a shock of red hair. Standing ramrod straight, he reached a hand absentmindedly into his pocket to worry at the marble, holding his breath and then scowling when Axel entered the café, followed by a very eager Hayner.
"Roxas!"
"Hayner, what-" Roxas's question was cut short by an employee yelling out that their drinks were ready. The two took their warm cups and slid into a nearby booth, Axel following and scooting unto Roxas's side.
"Hey there, Roxy." Axel smirked, reaching over and taking a swig from Roxas's latté, drawing an indignant squawk from the blue-eyed blonde.
"Hayner, what is he doing here?!" he hissed, snagging his drink and bringing it close to his chest, glaring heatedly at the redhead.
"Why, Roxy-"
"He's staying with us for a while!" Hayner interjected, before hiding his face behind his hot chocolate.
"…Wait, what?" Roxas felt his face go slack, and caught side of Axel's shit-eating grin from the corner of his eye.
"I got a job down here," Axel explained. "I traded in my car for a motorcycle, but I have to fix it up. Until I can make the commute, Seifer's me stay with him."
"You did all of that in a week?" Roxas asked, incredulous, eyebrows climbing upwards.
"Amazing what you can do when you put your mind to it, Shortstuff." Axel winked knowingly, and Roxas felt a growl build in his throat.
"What's that, Roxas?" Hayner piped up, snatching something from Roxas's free hand.
"What?" Roxas snapped, tired of having to keep track of so many conversations at once. Hayner always seemed to be going a mile a minute, and his sudden fascination with whatever Roxas had been holding was a very badly veiled attempt to stop the building tension from escalating further.
"This marble thing. It's really pretty. Did Olette give it to you, or something?"
Roxas felt heat bloom at the back of his neck, able to feel Axel's gaze. He hadn't realized that he'd been messing with the damned thing.
"I… ah, well…" Roxas cleared his throat awkwardly, Hayner looking intently into the little blue sphere. "It was a gift."
"From who?"
"From Axel."
Roxas blinked, slowly, and then looked Hayner square in the eye. The other boy had finally looked up from the sparkling gem, and now was staring quizzically between Roxas and Axel.
"He never accepts gifts," Hayner said slowly. "You're really lucky, Axel. I'm surprised he didn't punch you or something."
"He'd already done that before the tournament," Axel snickered. Roxas sunk lower in his seat, reaching for the crystal.
"Hayner, please give it back. I have to get back and finish my piece."
"Oh, that's right! Roxas is majoring in Music Theory at Hollow Bastion State!"
Roxas bit back a groan, shoving the marble into his pocket and then awkwardly trying to find a way to get out of the booth without having to touch or talk to Axel.
"Mc Pissy Pants over here, into Music Theory?" But, instead of sounding scornful or incredulous, Axel managed to sound intrigued, in a good way.
Roxas stopped fidgeting, and blushed faintly.
"It's a lot less lame than it sounds." Roxas insisted. "I'm learning how to compose, I'm learning history… I'm doing what I love." He stopped talking, realizing how emotional he sounded. "And right now, I need to get back and finish my piece. Then, I have to practice it and be ready to perform next Monday-"
Axel stood and slid out of the booth, giving Roxas room to get out and leave. The blonde raked a hand back through his hair and said a snippy goodbye to Hayner, a tight smile pull across his features.
"Hey, Shorty-"
Roxas whirled around, angry at the physical contact and at the new nickname – it seemed like it was there to stay, and-
"You forgot your coffee." Axel grinned, shoving the still-hot drink into Roxas's hands. "I wanna come by and listen to you play, sometime." he added in a softer, gentler whisper. It was somewhat husky, and Roxas felt he could hear a touch of…. What was that emotion?
"Ah- alright." Roxas replied dumbly, slowly nodding his head up and down, with jerky, robotic motions. Something about having Axel looking at him so intensely, with those green eyes, in public --was Hayner watching? -- made Roxas nervous, which in turn made him act stupid. He licked his lips, blinked.
"Cool," Axel murmured, and then he was gone, sitting back at the booth, leaning casually back against the supple leather.
That Friday, as Roxas perched on his couch, guitar slung on his lap, music sheets spread out before him, his cell phone rang.
"Hehwhoa?" the pen he was chewing on distorted his words.
"Hey, short-stuff!"
"Axel?" Roxas spit the pen out of his mouth, brow furrowing. What the hell was Axel calling him for – and where did he get the number, anyway?
"Look, kid, I don't really know how to explain … Can I come over-"
Axel was cut off by a loud, shaky moan. Roxas blanched, and then flushed hot red.
"Are… Is… Hayner?!"
"Yes!" Axel hissed. "Can I come over, just for a few hours? I can't stand this… and without my car or the bike…"
"Uhm." A door slammed shut, and then everything went silent. "I… I guess."
"Great!" Axel crowed – quietly – and then heard two corresponding dings as the elevator opened and closed.
"So, Blondie, how exactly do I get to your place?"
Axel brought his fist down without a second thought against the door, standing in the hallway and receiving awkward looks from other tenants. He had been able to sneak his way in on the coattails of an elderly woman bringing in her groceries, which had saved him from having to call Roxas to open the main entrance for him.
The door opened, revealing Roxas with a distracted, intense gaze on his face, his hair much messier than was normal, from Axel's view. He was dressed warmly, grey cotton shirt with sleeves reaching just below the elbows, along with baggy sweatpants in a lighter shade. His furrowed brow didn't help the relaxed air that the clothing portrayed, though, and Axel was still on his toes.
"Come in," the blonde grumbled, turning heel and leading the way through a cramped kitchen, scowl keeping the line of his lips set.
To be courteous, Axel removed his sneakers, glancing around the tiny one-person abode.
"It's the perfect size for you, Roxy." he commented, watching Roxas draw a guitar up from behind a couch arm.
"Uh-huh," the blonde responded, laying the guitar expertly across his lap and gazing down at a messy avalanche of scribbled-upon composures. The boy was distracted, that much was for sure.
"You working on that class project?" Axel asked quietly, perching precariously on the opposite arm of the beaten couch.
"Yes." Roxas said snippily, hashing with quick, deliberate motions across the paper with a BIC pen.
"What have you got so far?"
"Ah… not much." Axel noted how Roxas slowed down, cocked his head to the side, and gave the redhead a puzzled look.
"Play for me?"
Axel was embarrassed by how pathetic he sounded, as if he were begging.
"Why are you so interested, Axel?"
"I never learned," he shrugged. "I have a deep respect for people patient enough to practice and keep up in music." To keep a lighter mood, he let a gentle smirk play on his lips. Roxas looked back at the music, contemplating. "My mother used to play the piano." Axel added, as if that changed anything.
The redhead remembered the way the music seemed to flow through her, like audible light and happiness.
"It's really not finished…" Roxas muttered, indignant, but he held his instrument closer to his chest- protectively, Axel noted -positioned his fingers on the strings, and strummed.
You know this piece, Roxas.
You've got the sheet music right in front of you, just look at the notes… don't look at the class…
Roxas fidgeted in his seat as the performance before his own drew to a close, the girl who had been playing standing up, bowing. He thought the motion pretentious as he wrung his hands out beneath his desk.
"Roxas?" The teacher gazed over at him; glasses perched low on his nose, expression expectant.
Here we go.
The shorter blonde took sure steps to the front of the class, never stumbling, never once showing his nervousness. His arrogant, disinterested mask hid well his sweaty palms and thundering heartbeat. Roxas drew his guitar out over his lap, clutched tightly to the neck, double-checked that the thing was in tune, and straightened his music out on the stand that had been ever so nicely brought in by the professor, before finally he played.
Roxas wasn't entirely sure what emotions his song was based upon. When he'd first started writing, he really hadn't been feeling much of anything- apathy, mostly. Later, though, after Hayner's call, a little bit of irritation at needing to get the stupid song done. After the run in at the café, contemplation on everything, deep thoughts and feelings that were too tightly wound and tangled for the teen to try to decipher. The most intense part of the piece was done while in Axel's presence.
What started out stiff and awkward soon bloomed into light and airy and playful and bouncy and the hardest thing about it was getting this more whimsical, free-flowing sound to tie in with the rest of the music. In the end, he was happy with it. Altogether, it came together nicely, with a perfect beginning, climax and tapering end that echoed in the acoustic music hall for many long minutes afterwards.
Absently, in the time between the end of the song and realizing that the song was over, Roxas wanted to know what it would sound like when played on the piano.
But the class was suddenly applauding, and it broke over his daze and brought him out. He absently felt his face fall into a mask of a half-scowl, brows lowering and gaze hardening. The bell pealed, and the class filed out slowly, leaving Roxas behind to pack up his guitar into its case, making sure to keep the sheet music unwrinkled and pristine.
"Nicely done, Blondie." A deep, nasally yet husky voice approved, somewhere behind him. Roxas spun around, catching Axel in the act of descending the stairs, dressed in a form-fitting maroon t-shirt, black leather jacket, and long, loose black jeans. The darker colors made the neon green of his eyes shine, the red of his hair glow. The tattoos were stark against his white skin, matching with the black, darker tint of his clothing.
"What are you doing here?" Roxas half-growled, his tenor voice rebounding in the abandoned room.
"Glad to see you too, Roxas." Axel snorted, rolling his eyes. "I came by to hear you play- to hear the whole piece."
"How did you get in here?" Roxas found himself asking another question, unsure of how to react to this sort of … intrusion. "How did you even know where my class was?"
"Relax kid, I happen to know another student in the class. Demyx, maybe you've heard of him?"
"Demyx- the tall blonde dude who plays the sitar?"
"If a sitar is a freakishly long guitar, then yes, that's him."
Against his will, Roxas felt his smirk turn upwards at the corners.
"Loved the piece, by the way." Axel murmured.
And that was the beginning of a very healthy – violent at times – friendship.
Ending Notes:
Teehee. Roxas's last name is "small" in Dutch. Or at least, so says my translator. :D
Hope you all like the cliché line at the end. Going to be doing a bit of a time skip in the next chapter… I'll detail what went on, but I shan't document every single day between these guys- that would take forever. Thank you all for being patient! I'm working diligently on Chain of Events, but want to keep the quality up. 3