Um, this was long overdue. Sorry about that. Lack of inspiration, then schoolwork came. I'm on vacation right now. No, actually, was on vacation. I should've updated this more consistently, but, I was...distracted. More apologies for that. Speaking of apologies, I'm sorry if I didn't message a thanks to any of the reviewers. I'm starting to get really, really bad at that -_-'
Feel free to throw tomatoes at me.
This chapter came out quite long compared to the others. I'm not sure if I should apologize for that, lol. I don't think so. Hm, what else should I say? Oh, language. yes, there's quite a bit of profanity in this chapter, more so, I think, in this one. Sorry about that :/ And sorry for any typos grammatical and/or spelling errors.
Anyway, enjoy!
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Who will fall, far behind?
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Chapter 9
My mind feels like a fuzzy firby by the time I wake up. It's nearly noon and I can feel the weight of last night hit me the moment I rise from the bed. My head pounds, a nasty throbbing reverberating around my skull. I bring a hand to my forehead, rubbing it gently. It wasn't my intention to get roaring drunk. I just needed a lay, but that lay came in the form of –
"Kairi…" I murmur, the events from last night flooding faster than the pain. I can feel my eyes prickle in shame at the state of my best friend. She's being an idiot. She's acting like a brat.
I sigh, as I untangle myself from the bed sheets. I head to the bathroom. When I take in myself in the mirror, I almost jump. I look like a mess – not in the Kairi way, either. My eyes are blotchy red. And it looks like I haven't slept in days.
I drag myself out of bed, and downstairs. The coffee pot is calling my name, the taste is already in my mouth, but the sound of the front door opening stops me in my tracks. Sora, hair messier than his usual chocolate bird's nest, stares at me with spooked eyes. The bags under his eyes reveal the fact that he's probably just as hungover as I am. But he doesn't look annoyed, or irritated, or even angry. In fact, there's this bright little glow surrounding him.
A small smile tugs at his lips, as he greets me.
"Roxas." He chirps, nodding his head. The first few buttons on his shirt are undone, and his sleeves are rolled up. My eyes narrow, as I take in his slight strut as he walks into the kitchen, presumably looking for the same thing.
I follow in after, staring at him as he whistles, grabbing the coffee filters. He drops one, and instead of cursing a storm, he just laughs and picks it up. I feel a frown sink my lips like a battleship
"You're in an awfully good mood for someone who was completely wasted." I comment warily, as he starts up the machine. He turns swiftly around, leaning against the counter. The smile has exploded into a mega-watt size. It unnerves me.
"Hmm, really?" He shrugs me off, turning back. He opens the cupboard above the stove, fishing for coffee mugs. He brings out two. "I'm making you a cup right?"
A weird feelings runs throughout my body, it almost scare me. I feel like I'm left in the dark. He knows something I don't, and it's freaking me out. Sora never one-ups me. Never. He doesn't answer. It's silent for the short five minutes it takes for the coffee to brew.
I study my brother. His posture is too relaxed. The smile on his face is too lazy for him. There's just something off.
The coffee brewing sounds ominous in the quiet kitchen. Sora's smile is still annoyingly intact. He reaches past me, into the refrigerator to pull out the creamer, and that's when it hits me. The smell – that achingly familiar scent that's radiating off of him. I know that smell.
My fingers automatically grasp onto the collar of his shirt, yanking him closer to me. The carton of creamer falls from his hand as I drag him away. I sniff his shirt, ignoring the odd face he's shooting me.
"Where were you?" I ask coldly, already knowing the answer.
"Let me go!" He demands, gripping at my hand. "It's none of your business."
My gaze lowers, scrutinizing my brother as he glares at me. The dirty look doesn't faze me. It's not effective – the little fucker is glowing. It's that disgusting post-coital glow. The glow that just screams everything and nothing at the same time.
His blue eyes avert, presumably because I've figured it out. A wave of nausea crashes into me in an instant.
"Roxas, look, things just got of hand."
"Shut up," I breathe out unevenly. I don't even hear him properly, or even the irritating coffee machine. Everything just sounds sort of muffled. The dizzying thoughts that are sluggishly circling around my head sound like they're screaming through megaphones. Several things race through my mind in slow motion. Naminé's voice, thick with disappointment, from last night. Then Kairi forms into my head, the memories from that night. The intimate things. The next is that Sora, my brother, was the one that got to do those things with her. It's just – fucked up. It makes me sick. The thought of him touching her, seeing her. The revulsion is unimaginable. It barrels through my thoughts into planning an attack. I want to hit him. I want to watch him suffer.
But the anger quickly melts away, when I glance at my brother again. Despite the angry look that's directed towards me, I can see it. Deep in his set of blue eyes, that he's completely taken with the redhead. That the boy is so foolishly obsessed with her, he doesn't even realize how fucked up she is either.
My grip has loosened considerably. The fuzzy muted sound plugging my hearing dissolves. I let go of his shirt completely, backing up. Sora seems puzzled, but still angry as he watches me. Probably waiting for me to swing. I won't deny that I still kind of want to punch him, but the poisonous pool of guilt at the pit of my stomach makes me resist.
"Roxas, I'm sorry things didn't work out for you two," Sora starts, having the decency to look sympathetic. I internally scoff. I don't tell him how much of an idiot he's making himself seem. "But it's over now, okay? I finally have my shot with Kairi. Last night was amazing, and – and I'm not going to just let you take that away from me."
The bile quickly comes up, threatening to break through my throat. I swallow thickly, watching as my brother's eyes light up.
I want to scream in his face. I want to tell him to back off. I want to tell him to stay away from my girl. More importantly, I want him to keep his heart safe from her. He doesn't understand. He never understood Kairi. He doesn't even fully grasp the drastic change she's gone through. My brother is setting himself up for heartbreak.
"Go for it." I say softly, before turning and walking back upstairs.
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When I see the familiar blonde hair in the coffee shop, a sliver of hope makes me shiver in anticipation. Admittedly, I'm surprised she even decided to show up. I take that as a good sign. She sounded reluctant to meet me today.
I order my coffee quickly, and take a seat across from her.
"Hi." I greet politely. She gives me a flat look.
"What is it you want from me, Roxas?" Naminé asks wearily. Her hands hold the coffee mug tightly. My eyes narrow in her direction as I take in her posture. She looks too rigid, too stiff to seem this calm.
"To talk-" I start, but she cuts in.
"I think we talked over the phone plenty." She sneers. I frown, feeling put out. Feeling hurt at the negativity in her tone.
"Don't you care?" I stammer out incredulously. The blonde sighs, setting the mug down. Her icy blue eyes turn hard in an instant.
"You've both made it pretty clear you don't want me to care." She snaps. I visibly flinch at her tone. She's right. A wave of guilt hits me harder than one of those stupid hurricanes. I want her to care. I want her to give me that sympathetic look she used show. I want her to listen to me tell her my problems. I want her to pity me. And that pisses me off. It pisses me off even more that she won't even do any of it anymore.
"You're wrong – I mean we need you, Naminé." I say thickly. Great. I feel it. All that emotional shit I've been repressing so much. It's unbearable. I'm pretty sure Naminé suspects as well, because her carefully serene expression shifts. I can see the troubled concern in her eyes. It's… it's wonderful to see. It's relieving and hopeful. It's reassuring, because Naminé never lets me down. She's too caring and compassionate for her own good.
Because seeing that flicker of worry is like a godsend gift from heaven – she still cares.
"I don't believe you." Naminé murmurs, nursing her cup again. I sigh patiently. I didn't expect this to be easy. In fact, I expect it to be incredibly difficult. My fingers move against the smooth ceramic mug. I hesitate, thinking out my words carefully. Think before reacting. Look where that got me last time.
"Do you remember what you told me, the last time we had a civil conversation face-to-face?" I cringe, when her eyes narrow suspiciously into little slits. I bring the coffee cup to my lips, prompting her to speak. Her eyebrows rise; she gets the hint.
"I've told you a lot of things." She sniffs, her fingers clench tightly around the cup. I wouldn't have noticed, but her already pale hands were white at the knuckles. I sip quickly and set the mug back down.
"You told me to keep my eyes on her, Naminé." I remind her. Immediately her own eyes widen, before settling back into her glare, but it's a little too soft to be called a glare. It's a start.
"Well what do I know? I'm the outsider with no love life, right?" She snaps angrily. I visibly flinch, nearly knocking over my cup of coffee. A wave of shame hits me harder than the now forming stone cold glare she's shooting my way. I avert my gaze, opting to glare at the napkin in front of me.
"Naminé, I know you're hurt-"
"You really don't even know," she interjects. "So don't act like you understand what you put me through."
"I'm sorry." I apologize weakly. I don't really know what else to do, but apologize. Somehow it isn't enough, and judging by the look on her face, she knows it isn't enough either. "I didn't think – I mean – I honestly didn't think you'd get so hurt over a kiss."
The blonde girl furrows her eyebrows. Finally, her piercing gaze relents and she settles her eyes on the coffee mug in front of her. A frown mars her face as she stares blankly into the creamy depths of her cappuccino.
"I guess it doesn't bother me – or it didn't at first." She whispers. Her voice sounds so low, that I have to lean in to hear her. "I didn't really care that you used me to get back at Kairi."
I shoot her a look of incredibility.
"Okay, I did care, but it wasn't what was made me so angry with you. Not really. It doesn't exactly hurt knowing you had the capability to use me, because I already knew that about you. You're – selfish."
I open my mouth to counter – to say something. But her eyes flicker towards me, rendering me speechless.
"Why didn't you just ask me? I would've – I would've understood. I would've helped you." Her voice suddenly starts sounding more like a choked sob. She blinks rapidly. "You manipulated me, rather than asking for something I would've voluntarily given you. It was the same with Kairi. When she went out with Sora," she pauses, the frown deepening. I feel the hopeful expression on my face melt away into anger. The memories from this morning burn into my head. His stupid smile. The sick feelings come up, and I nearly interrupt the blonde in front of me to blurt out everything I knew. But I don't, because I know deep down, if I do, she'll never come back.
"I knew why she did it. I knew she was using him as a distraction," Naminé sighs, letting go of her cup. Her hands rest on her lap."Because you stupidly rejected her." She adds. The cold, stony gaze forms on her face, as she focuses in on me again. I wince. "But, like you, she could've just told me. She could've came to me for help. The fact that both of you just disregard the fact that I was there is what disappoints me."
"Naminé, I really don't know what to say." I admit guiltily. The blonde girl sighs again.
"You and Kairi – I know you both of you. Your favorite movies, colors, hobbies. Everything. I know what Kairi loves; I know what pisses you off. I know both of your families as if they were my own." She mutters, completely disregarding my statement. "I know the stupid, little things friends are supposed to know. And you? You both don't know me at all, do you?"
The question sends an uncanny shiver down my spine, especially with the pitiful look she's giving me. It bothers me, what she's saying. Because it isn't true. I do know Naminé. Granted, I don't know as much as she claims to know about me, but it still counts for something.
"I do know you." I stammer.
"You don't even know my favorite color." She counters.
"That's not fair," I feel my patience wearing thin at this verbal attacking. "How did you expect us to find out all this about you when you would barely speak to us? If you weren't so shy, maybe we would know all this stuff you're using against me."
Naminé's lips twitch into another frown.
"I'm not shy." She says quietly. "I'm not shy at all. If you both weren't so invested in each other, maybe you would've realized that."
I sigh softly, glancing around the small coffee shop. Instantly, I feel my face boil over as I realize others are watching us with rapt attention. Some are even scowling at me. Well, I suppose the situation did look odd – did look like some sort of break up.
Right, peg the male as the bad guy. Stupid double standards.
"What are you getting at?" I demand impatiently. Naminé fixes me with an incredulous frown.
"Prime example." She mutters to herself.
"Prime example of what exactly?" I'm annoyed now. I know she knows, because her expression has turned smug.
"What little patience you hold for me." She responds, reaching for her cup. She takes a swig, eyes never leaving mine, and then places it back down on the table. "I was bullied when I was younger, that's why I have a hard time speaking to new people." She offers. "I'm not about to stand around and let you make me feel worse than they did, because neither you or Kairi will put as much effort into this friendship as I do. I'm done. And I'm done feeling sorry for myself."
The blonde plays with the rim of the cup. She's not looking at me anymore. She doesn't even look angry or sad – just kind of exhausted. I feel a little exhausted too. Emotionally exhausted. It's weird, especially since I didn't even vent to her at all. All the emotions that were building up inside of me sort of just faded away, leaving me drained.
"So don't – don't try and say you know how I feel," she whispers. "Because you don't."
It's quiet, eerily so. I can't even process the babble of the coffee shop, or the slight clang of ceramic mugs hitting tables. Finally, after what seems like hours, I clear my throat and straighten up in my seat. Naminé's gaze lifts up as she notices
"Naminé, I can't tell you how sorry I am. We've taken your friendship for granted. We've mistreated you and I feel horrible about it." I apologize earnestly. "I'm asking you to forgive me, and I'm asking you as a friend to help me. Kairi needs us. Both of us. Please, Naminé."
The blonde's expression is unreadable for a moment. For a moment, I feel like she's not going to say anything at all. For a split second, I feel like she's going to throw her drink at me. But, suddenly, she springs from her seat, grabbing her bag. When she turns to look at me, it's icy and chills me to the bones.
"Clean up your own damn mess."
And with that, she storms out of the coffee shop.
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I hang out with Government girl for a bit. It doesn't last long – the sex. But I don't really care. I wasn't in the mood. I just wanted to go home. And when I tell her, she nearly throws a tantrum.
I'm almost out the door when she stops me.
"When did the almighty Roxas fall?" She spits out nastily. I ignore her, throwing the hood of my sweater over my head. My hands dig into my pocket and storm out into the chilly sunset air.
I'm home bound, for once. My own bed sounds inviting. I just want to sleep till I die. Maybe that would be an effective way to get people to stop being such assholes.
I was – still am – angry at Naminé. I tried. I try so hard and this is what I get. A nice, big, fat fuck off. How the hell was I supposed to know the definition of a good friend? I cared. I did care about her. Does she not even notice? What kind of fucking friend leaves the other to fend for themselves?
I throw open my front door, directly heading up the stairs towards my room when something solid stops in front of me.
"Roxas." Sora. Should've known. The scowl forms on my face before I can even help it. Anger bubbles deep in my chest as he smiles at me politely. The urge to punch him grows stronger than before. I hate it. I hate seeing him so fucking happy. Like the world is cloud 9 for him.
"What do you want?" I snap harshly. He raises his eyebrow skeptically.
"What's up with you?"
Well, I don't know, it could be a lot of things dear brother. Maybe it's the fact that Naminé hates me. Or that you're just so incessantly happy. Or, perhaps it's the fact that you're fucking the love of my life. But I really think it's because I want to kick your ass right now.
"What does it even matter?" I snarl, pushing passed him. I hear Sora sigh, and then his hand is gripping my elbow, dragging me back. I'm going to punch him. I swear to god, I'll sock his face off if he doesn't let go. Somewhere in his pea sized brain, he notices and let's go.
"Look, Roxas, I feel really bad about this morning," he starts. Immediately, the conversation begins to annoy me. He feels bad? Bad about what? I'm almost tempted to ask him, but his next words freeze me in my tracks. "So I was wondering if you'd want to come with me and Kairi to this party. You know, to make things less awkward and stuff, and make amends."
"Are you a moron?" I stammer. "What makes you think I'd want to be anywhere near her."
My brother turns scarlet in an instant. "Hey, I know you're angry. Take it out on me, fine, but don't get Kairi involved-"
I suddenly burst out into a humorless chuckle.
"You don't even get it, do you? Kairi's just using you."
Sora's face falls. "No, we're – we're going out now. You're jealous." He defends weakly. His blue eyes widen with uncertainty, as my laughter continues. "You're jealous because for once I get-"
"-My sloppy seconds." It hurts to say it. I feel sick as soon as the words leave my mouth. Sora is in my face, in less than a second.
"Shut up!"
"Just get away from her as soon as you can. Once she's done with you, she'll dump you." My words are harsh, and intended to hurt my brother, but there's truth lacing them. And I know he knows. With the way he's getting so defensive, I'm sure he knows exactly what I'm talking about.
"She likes me."
"She's fucking you." I deadpan. "That's not love."
Sora's nostrils flare, and for a second, I'm almost positive he's going to punch me. But in that same second he backs off. His eyes are murderous.
"Stay away from us." He warns, shoving me, and making his way down the stairs.
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I don't listen to Sora – obviously. I deliberately go to the same party he's going to. Another party. Another useless, party that I can't seem to get into anymore. Girls try to dance with me, but I flat out ignore them. I don't even touch the bottle of alcohol someone drunkenly handed me.
I didn't come to get roaring drunk. I came for one reason. And she's staring straight at me.
Her blue eyes meet mine. It's hypnotizing, so mesmerizing that for just a brief moment, I forget where I'm at. Her cherry bangs are pinned back, her hair is up. The same kind of make up from last night's party marks her face.
I want to speak with her. I want to pull Sora off of her. I don't even pay attention to the way his face dips into her neck. Her eyes are holding me still, watching her ever so closely. It's like I've been frozen, staring into her Medusa eyes.
Once her gaze lifts, the spell I'm under lifts as well.
She dips near my brother's ear, whispering something to him. I don't know what. I'm too far away. The music is too loud. The drummer beats against his set as the rhythm accelerates. The brunet leaves the redhead. And she's there alone, leaning against the wall, staring straight at me again.
Her smoky eyes are hazy. I suspect she's drunk, but she gives no indication of being inebriated. She's as poised as a fucking goddess. Her lips tilt into a smirk, as her hand rises. Her finger bends, gesturing for me to come. Come fucking hither.
My legs are already burning to move. I'm just as pathetic as my brother.
I take a step forward, but something makes me stop. Somebody else – someone in front of me – is making their way towards the redhead. Someone much taller and bigger and fuck – I know the back of that head!
Riku, the stupid pretty boy that was all into her back in middle school struts over to the girl. I can't see his expression, only the back of his stupid Pantene-enriched head. As soon as he's within distance, she throws herself at him.
It's disgusting. I'm close to throwing up. His hands grope her and it – it pisses me off, and makes me sick at the same time. He's touching her in all of the wrong places, and it's just so wrong. I don't even realize it – when my eyes burn. I don't even realize the familiar thick pain of my clogged throat. Or the tightening of my chest, the constricting of my lungs.
The loud, crowded room turns into a fiery hell, as she kisses him. His grip is rough, and it sets my body in to flames. My already watering eyes glance around the mass of people, hoping someone would see this. See this – this calamity. And then I realize it's just me. It's just me who's seeing this as a catastrophe. The whole world continues on, as my own crumbles, as Kairi shoves her tongue down some loser's throat.
That's when I see my brother. Two beer bottles in his hand, frozen a few feet away from the couple. His expression is stricken. He looks confused, but then a flash of anguish flickers in his eyes and I know it's over. He turns away, walking back through the doorway he came in from.
I don't know what it is that drives me to run up to the couple, and yank Riku off of her. It could've been all the pent up shit I was dealing with the whole day, it could've of been the jealousy that was poisoning my heart, or it could've been that look on my brother's face. Whatever the reason, I was set on one thing: kicking this guy's ass.
My fingers curl around his shoulder, as I pry him off of her. When he spins around, he looks dazed and there's lipstick smothered all over his lips. It makes me throw the first punch. My fist collides with his jaw with a satisfying thud.
I know I've fucked up something on his pretty boy face. I almost laugh when he glares up at me with a bloody mouth. His green eyes narrow dangerously, and then the wind's knocked out of me when he tackles me. I hear screaming, but it's very low compared to the music that's the only thing constant in our fight.
It feels good. Punching the shit out of this guy. It feels so good, that I'm laughing as I'm doing it. I hope it hurts him. I pray to god it hurts this guy. I want him to suffer; I want to dump all the stupid pain attacking me, on his unsuspecting chest.
I want him to feel all of the self-loathing that's been building up inside me ever since I walked out on Kairi. I want him to feel every crack and ripped up seam of my heart, in my heavy fists. I want him to feel that choking desperation, forming within my tightly constricting chest. I want to rip his heart apart. I hope he feels it. I hope to god, he feels every fucking hit.
I'm on such a high I don't even feel his feeble attempts at punching back. I'm invincible. I feel like a fucking lion or something. I'm almost tempted to growl, to roar, but I stop when my eyes focus in on Kairi. Her eyes are wide with horror. Her face is as white as a ghost. Her jaw is open – frozen. And in that split second, I see her. I see Kairi Lockhart. The girl who's my designated driver at my parties. The girl who drives me to school every morning, and brings me coffee when I'm hung over. The girl who doesn't condones this shitty behavior. The girl that I've been madly in love with ever since I was seven years old.
"Roxas, you idiot, stop it!" She shrieks. It sounds like music to my ears. It sounds like a song I haven't heard in years. The tightening chokehold on my chest loosens, leaving a dull ache. Her blue eyes are watering. Tears of a phoenix, healing all of my wounds. The panic in her voice sends a trail of hope through my veins like warm syrup. I relent, for a moment, savoring the sweet concern swimming through her expression.
And then, I feel something very hard and very solid collide with the side of my head. Suddenly everything turns to black.
"Roxas!"
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And that's a wrap. No, kidding! Um, reviews are loved! Loved, loved, loved. Thanks for reading!