Author's Notes: Because it's in all the romance movies.


by: Rosalyn Angel


Axel likes to believe he has a good throwing arm.

He's standing at the back of a sleeping house, having scaled the fence, and idly tossing a rock from hand to hand. It's a good rock, he decides—small and smooth. With any luck, it won't break the window. And if it does, well, it'd definitely get someone's attention.

He looks up at the second-floor window lazily. The rock came from the house's front garden—a decorative display set up around a birdbath. Maybe it won't be missed. There's plenty more, anyway. And how hard is it to get another rock? Really.

Tossing his ammo up in the air one last time for sport, he sticks out his tongue, closes one eye, winds his arm back, and sends the thing flying.


He waits and stares.

But nothing happens. The targeted window stays dark.

Okay, he thinks as he walks to where the rock fell. Just keep trying.

He finds it eventually, nestled in the clean-cut grass, and cranes his head up. This time, Axel throws the rock with more gusto.


His eyes follow it as it plops to the ground. Then he peers at the window with raised eyebrows.

Well, third time's the charm.

Pick up, aim, and throw.


No answer.



Axel begins to doubt his choice in rocks.


Axel becomes frustrated.


Finally, stomping to retrieve his rock, Axel gets fed up and tosses it with an almighty battle cry.



And he freezes.

A light turns on inside the window. A few seconds later, the curtains are pulled aside, and a shadowy figure examines the window's fracture before pulling it open.

Riku leans over the sill and frowns down at his boyfriend. "You broke my window."

Axel grins impishly and salutes.