Freedom.
Is it an illusion, or a reality? Can we ever truly be free?
Are we free in our actions, or are they chained by our past?
Are we free in our words, or are they lead to us by what other have drilled into our minds?
Even in our deaths, are we free?
...
Axel unlocked the door, letting it whirl open as he surveyed the room. He wasn't stupid- he wouldn't walk in there without knowing where the boy was, and if the boy was going to attack him in attempts to get free.
He didn't know the boy. He couldn't tell how deparate the boy was, and he wasn't willing to take that chance. Trust was earned, not given.
Axel knew that what he was doing was wrong. He knew that he shouldn't have taken the boy, shouldn't have used his blood to keep a boy that wanted to be dead alive.
But he was a type O. Axel's blood fit everyone.
Hospitals... they wouldn't do anything. The poor boy would be sent to some psych ward, frozen and zombified to satify the others that they were "doing" something- keeping them alive.
That wasn't living, when they filled you with drugs.
Axel didn't know if what he was doing was any better.
But he would try.
Axel sighed in relief as he eyed a sleeping form on his bed. He wanted the boy to have some time to himself, and the more the better. He didn't want to startle the boy, to make him fear him and close himself off.
Axel wanted to help him.
To give him a reason to live.
Axel lifted the tray he was holding, his muscles stretching and flexing with use. He placed it next to the boy, on the nightstand, and was considering leaving a note when the boy shuffled and moaned in bed.
The boy's eye opened blearily, the other one shut. Axel grinned. If anything, people were more submissive when they were sleepy. He squatted next to the boy, his head at the boy's eye level. "Hey, kid." He whispered gently. "What's your name?" He smiled slightly, careful not to appear predatory. The boy blinked a few times, and Axel wasn't sure if the boy was awake enough to understand him.
The boy huffed in his semi-concious state, his breathing slow and leasuirly. "'S... 's Roxas."
Axel couldn't help the smile that streched his face. "Roxas, huh?" Axel fought the urge to ruffle the boy's head. Roxas was in a bad state, and he didn't want to pressure the boy. "Well, Roxas, I left you some soup. Go back to sleep and eat when you wake up." The boy's blinks became longer, and his eyes became less focused.
"Mhhmmmm..." The boy purred, his eyes falling shut one last time.
Axel let the smile overtake his face. The boy was adorable.
Death wishing, but adorable.
Axel wouldn't mind keeping him for company, not regretting having picked up the poor boy when he was blood-coated and cold. He stood up, and headed to the door. He hear the boy mumble in his sleep, something about not leaving him. Axel's smile cut short as he remembered the seriousness of the situation. He pulled back, running his hand's over Roxas' cover. He hoped that the boy would feel him, understand that he wasn't alone.
Axel tucked the cover under the boy's chin, and returned to the door. He watched the boy shuffle one last time before he closed the door behind him, hating that he had to leave the boy alone when he was vulnerable but understanding that he needed space.
Eventually, Axel would finally begin to help the boy.
He was determined to.
He would give the boy freedom from his nightmares.
...
I don't know how you feel or what you think. Please, just review.