"Axel."
"I thought you weren't talking to me."
"I'm not. Can I ask you a question?"
He sighed. "What?"
"Did you dye your hair?"
The redhead looked at him out of the corner of his eye. "Are you kidding me? I am insulted. This is my natural color."
Roxas snorted. "Whatever you say."
"What about you? What'd you do to get such nice hair?" Axel reached across the aisle—violating the invisible boundary between them again, Roxas thought—and tousled his hair.
"This is my natural hair, genius," Roxas mocked. "Get off me."
"Aww, am I in your personal bubble?" Axel teased.
"I'm not talking to you, remember?"
"You have a point. Hypocrite."
"Do your homework, you numbskull."
"You just talked to me."
"Shut up."
"You're still talking to me."
"Both of you in the corner," a voice said from the front of the room, "please be quiet."