:) New story!
I'm sorry, I really am... I tried to keep it just with Adrenaline and The Never Better Syndrome... but then Tantalize was born, and then Just Listen... and then Russian Roulette... it's a sickness...
One that I'm not taking medicine for :)
So! Please review and let me know if this is worth keeping up with... it's definitely unlike the others in any way... it's a little creepy to me, to be honest!
But I like it :D
Summary: Axel is in love with Roxas. Roxas is fascinated with Reno. It's a pity Axel can't seem to be able to tell Roxas how he feels. It's a pity that the people Roxas becomes fascinated with always end up dead.
NOTE: It IS an Akuroku, don't worry! It may seem like it's not because of the Reno thing, but just read and you'll understand.
Warning: Mentally unstable Roxas, violence, murder, and yaoi.
She was beautiful.
Long, flowing hair that was tossed over one shoulder, naturally white blonde with highlights that the fluorescents picked up without effort. She had smooth, creamy skin that was unblemished and a soft ivory color that was enchanting, positively hypnotizing as she moved. She seemed innocent, a pure white dress falling loosely about her and modest white shoes unscuffed like she'd just taken them from the box. Shining, pale blue eyes observed everything going on around her like she wasn't a part of the party, like she was a stranger observing the events. People didn't hang on her, and people seemed to keep her at a distance, protecting her from their filth and grime. A small, kind smile suggested naivety and true charity for those she watched.
It was a shame that she had to die.
He bided his time throughout the party, keeping her in check and making sure that she didn't lose the luster she had. If people went to talk to her, he would cut them off and begin a conversation in order to detour them from their goal. He was an influential person, after all; get to know him and the doors to a high end social life was guaranteed. It wasn't like these people could afford to ignore him, after all. They all wanted to be like him, to live like him, and so they would easily give up the best of them in order to be known by the worst of them.
It was amazing to him how they could all be so content with worthlessness.
He made sure that she saw him. He made sure that she kept curious eyes on him as he socialized, talking with everyone and laughing wholeheartedly. He was well known and well liked by many, so it was easily done. He kept up fun conversation and let his eyes wander to her idly a few different times, making sure that he would avert his gaze and look sheepish whenever she "caught" him glancing. She would recognize him now, and even welcome his attention.
He knew when he would strike.
Thunder rolled across the expanse of the sky and lightening struck the air around them by the time that it was time to go. The tired, buzzed partygoers all laughed it off and made wild, drunk dashes to their cars to get out of the slight drizzle and the threat of downpour. He watched how she pulled out a large, white purse and withdrew a white rain coat as she began to walk to the door. Seeing his plan beginning to unfold he gave a quick goodbye to his other friends and began making his way to the door, grabbing his jacket and an umbrella slipping it on as he went. Might as well look legitimate, right?
She was buttoning up her coat as he stepped out, her large blue eyes glued to the fastens that refused to cooperate. Keeping his steps light and quiet, he moved close, close enough that he could feel the heat around her body, struggling to keep her warm, and suddenly he was hit with the innocence and hit with the pure energy that she gave off without even realizing it. It took the breath from him, and it made his mind reel at the capabilities. So pure, so clean of a person… a mask covering her from the reality… an untouchable being… it was almost too tempting to resist. He almost lost his cool, almost did something that he knew later he'd regret.
He almost killed her right then and there.
Easy, he coached himself, the time will come. You just have to be patient. He took a soft, silent breath and shook his head, smiling softly. He had to think clearly. He had to stay focused.
He had to make sure her life was worth stealing.
Skillfully, he reached around her small, fragile shoulders and finished buttoning the last few top buttons with long, skilled fingers, smirking as she let out a soft, innocent gasp and attempted to turn around.
"Easy, easy," He whispered softly, fixing his smirk into an apologetic smile. "Just thought I'd help you, that's all." He let his arms swing back and clasped his hands behind his back, allowing her to turn all the way around. Her eye were wide as she stepped back, a blush settling on her cheeks. He had to fight the urge not to laugh as she fumbled with her jacket and looked down bashfully.
"I… thank you."
"It's no problem, really." He smiled and stuck a hand out, ever the gentleman. "My name is Roxas."
"Oh, I know who you are… Roxas Strife, right? Reno's told me all about you." She said with a nervous smile. She still seemed surprised and a little edgy with his movements, but he didn't care. A few more words and she'd be under his spell, a toy to play with, a toy to break.
He could hardly wait.
"Good things, I hope." He joked, ducking his head sheepishly. It turned out to be just the right to do because the nerves seemed to edge away, and she allowed a slightly larger smile to grace her lips.
"He says you throw good parties." She replied with a gentle laugh. Her laugh, he decided, was just like her voice, which fit her so well that it was almost a sin. Smirking inwardly he stepped up a little closer, causing her to tilt her head back to look him in the eye.
"And what is your opinion?" He questioned quietly. She turned a little red at that, with nerves or embarrassment he couldn't say, but it was a pretty sort of blush all the same. It meant that she hadn't been tampered with, hadn't woken up in the world.
"I… I've never been to a party of yours, sorry." She informed him apologetically. Feigning shock and surprise he took a small step back, slightly satisfied as she leaned forward a little, following his movements without even realizing it.
It was almost too easy.
"I figured since I'd never seen your pretty face until now." He replied easily, the words slipping from his lips like oil, easily and effortlessly. Her eyes widened at that, but the tell-tale ghost of a smile gave away her act and showed that she was happy for the compliments.
"Are you trying to flatter me?" She asked teasingly.
"You caught me red handed." He held his hands up in mock surrender, letting out a warm hearted laugh that he knew would hit her where it needed to. Her eyes raked over him slowly, taking in the expensive slacks and tailored to fit jacket that splayed out at the wrists. The ruffles in the shirt were a little over done in his opinion, but it was just what the ladies liked, and it was nice enough to exhibit power and class without having to prove it. No one else had clothing like his. Looking into her innocent, bright blue eyes he could tell that he'd won. Stepping a little closer, he lowered his lashes and fastened his gaze on her face.
"Though, now I regret not putting your name on the list." He added softly. His fingers itched with the desire to move, to reach up and grip the pretty little throat of hers, to take in the untouchable stare, to break the wall that she unknowingly had, but he stopped himself. He was playing a very intricate game, and the slightest mistake could make or break it.
"Oh… well that's very kind of you." She replied in an even softer voice, and it was like he could feel her heartbeat pick up as he laughed softly.
"I don't mean to seem too forward, but I noticed the weather and thought you'd like someone to walk you home." He whispered softly, gaze on her lips.
"Oh, you don't have to!" She said with a smile. "I don't want to cause you any trouble…" He felt his smile freeze in place and he checked himself, made sure that he'd given nothing away. Trouble? How could someone so innocent, so clean cause any trouble? He laughed softly and shook his head, moving a little closer so that he could speak softly and charm her hesitance away.
"In no way are you any trouble. I would love to walk you home." He crooned to her, reaching up to push back her bangs from her face in order to feel the smooth, satiny skin. Sure enough, it slid past his fingernails and was as soft as it looked. He let his hand slide down her jaw to caress her cheek lightly, inwardly smirking as her eyes widened and she flushed at his touch. Of course.
"I… are you sure?" She asked breathlessly.
"I would hate for something bad to happen because you were walking home alone." He replied solemnly, pulling out the umbrella that he had grabbed with his jacket. "Shall we?" The girl let out a soft laugh and nodded, linking arm an arm with his as they stepped from the porch and began walking down the driveway.
"So I forgot to ask… what is your name?" He spoke, keeping the umbrella over her as the drizzle started to pick up.
"I'm Naminé… I live just next door." She replied in that same soft, kind voice. She kept her eyes focused straight ahead as she spoke, but he knew she was looking over at him, taking in as much as she could with short, quick glances.
"Well I'll definitely remember that name for the next party I throw. Naminé… what a lovely name." The darkness and makings of a storm pressed in on them, but he relished in it, happy with the way that it made her move a little closer, her fear of the dark and the thunder forcing her to trust in him.
"Oh… thank you." Her voice grew quieter as the thunder boomed right overhead and the wind whistled. She let out a gasp when the lightening flashed, and Roxas tightened his hold on her arm.
"Scared of storms?" He asked sympathetically, holding the umbrella a little closer towards her. He didn't want her to get tainted, to get soaked and soiled, ruined like the other trash that surrounded her. He had to keep her pure and clean, untouched and untainted.
"It's more the lightening and the thunder." She admitted quietly. Her voice wavered a little at the end when the thunder boomed, and she clutched her plain white purse tightly with frail, fragile fingers.
"Well see? Now aren't you glad I decided to accompany you?" He kept his light tones teasing, ensuring that she knew he wasn't being proud or arrogant. Some people seemed to take things the wrong way if they had the wrong impression, and that wasn't a mistake he could make so early in the game. There was so much to do… so much to accomplish… he inwardly shuddered in delight at the thought.
She laughed delicately, her smile shy and soft.
"Yes, it's like a knight in shining armor." Naminé teased back. She was beginning to loosen up around him, to become a little more herself. It was almost too much to force a smile and continue walked like he hadn't just won the first half of the battle.
As they made their way up the long driveway to her house he took note of the way that the cars were all in the driveway and that the lights were on in the house even though it was a quarter until 3. From the way she looked so excited and the way that her pace quickened, it was obvious that it was a family oriented home despite the fact that it was a wealthy home. He gave a good natured smile and kept pace with her, long legs keeping pace easily.
"Happy to be home?" He asked curiously when they reached the large, wide wraparound porch and stone columns. Pulling her arm from his she gave an excited nod and began rummaging through her purse, probably scrambling for her keys. Stepping back he examined the way that the pillars' plaster was beginning to wear, and that the stone steps were faded smooth. It was a wealthy home, yes, but the economy was obviously beginning to wear down on them. Maybe that's why she was so happy to be home? Her family was probably becoming closer together since they were losing money and realizing the value of being close to one another. The innocence, love, and untouched spirit about her seemed to grow, and his fascination grew with it as well, churning and twisting in a sickening sort of monster within him, demanding to be released.
"Oh, darn…" With sparkling eyes he looked down to see her on her knees, rummaging through her large, pure white purse, still in search of her keys. The tingling was spreading, a lazy trail beginning to rush in his veins as a strange, hollow feeling took over his thinking. So innocent, so pure… so untainted, so untouched…
His breathing was silently haggard, the breaths ballooning in short spasms, and he felt his hands go numb, the umbrella dropping hardly registering in his head. Her pure face, her innocent smile… he felt his legs moving, mechanically pushing him forward as he saw his shadow loom over her with darkness surrounding her light, blocking out her purity from the rest of the world…
"Ah! Found it!" She said brightly, unaware, so pure and unaware of the danger. She slung her purse over her shoulder and then fumbled with her keychain, searching to find the key to let her into the house. His muscles jerked underneath his skin and suddenly he was so alive so aware of the surroundings, of the way that the air smelled as the thunder roared about them and the lightening made his eyes shine a bit too brightly to be normal. He felt the thrum of her pulse, felt the way that her hair would be underneath his fingertips and he felt himself getting slowly on one knee, the cold cement pressing against his dress pants, a hand reaching towards her to grip her skin, to crush her, to maim her, to kill her…
"Found what you were looking for?" He asked smoothly, turning her shoulder ever so slightly as he saw her flipping through her keys. Looking up at him she smiled that pure, innocent smile as she finally found the key, pulling it away from the others in order to get to safety, in order to get to sanity…
Naminé stood up, her bangs slightly in her face as she stared up at him, taking in his appearance with large, untouched, untainted eyes that made his heart bang in his chest, made the monster grow, made his fingers tingle at the thought of touching that innocence, breaking through the walls she put up without even realizing…
"Thank you for walking me home, Roxas." She said with that soft smile. He smiled back, a toothy grin that reached his eyes and made them sparkle.
"It was my pleasure. I always enjoy meeting pretty girls." He replied easily, the lie slipping past his lips once more effortlessly. The thunder growled a low warning in the sky as Naminé moved a little closer, her barriers still safe as she peered up at him and made his skin crawl with the idea of her walls crumbling because of him.
"Are you trying to come onto me?" She asked suspiciously, the smile giving her away. She didn't mind the idea of that at all, he realized, and she probably wanted him to push more… so naïve… so innocent…
He just wanted to crush her.
He reached a hand up and brushed her bangs back like he'd done earlier, keeping them from her face for another chance to feel the purity, for another chance to feel the untouched sanity because it felt so nice, so refreshing, so fascinating that he had to have more.
"Is it working?" He asked huskily, stepping up closer. Her breath hitched as he asked, and he saw her eyes beginning to close and it hit him that she'd probably never been advanced upon like this before and that she probably thought that he would kiss her. He leaned his face down at little, breathing in the scent of pre-storm and a soft, flowery smell that was all her before he felt his hands lifting, reaching for her throat, reaching for her life, reaching for her…
Placing his hands on her shoulders he turned her around and pushed her gently towards the door.
"I'll take that as a yes," He murmured as her eyes flew open and she turned to face him. She looked confused, shocked, and a little upset, but he knew she'd recover. She'd sit and think and come up with an excuse for him, something that would make perfect sense to her, and she'd forgive him.
"I think it's past your bedtime." He joked with a winning smile, sticking his hands into his pockets and raising an eyebrow. "Don't you know nothing good ever happens after midnight?" She was dazed still, but recovered quickly enough to smile and nod before she stooped down to pick up her purse. Above them the rain was beginning to fall a little more, turning from a drizzle to a sprinkle.
"Well thank you, all the same. Goodnight, Roxas." She stepped forward and hugged him, a simple, innocent hug that set him ablaze and made all sense of direction flee, his body aching with the desire to hurt, to maim, to kill like he'd set off to do in the first place, his fingers tingling and his heart thudding against his ribcage animalistically, begging for release, begging for satisfaction begging to feel…
He hugged her back, a self satisfied smirk stealing over his face.
"Off to bed now." He urged, chuckling. She pulled away and smiled, turning and unlocking the door with record speed before she walked indoors, walked to safety. He felt his lips pull back, a toothy grin breaking free and making his eyes shine darkly.
"What a lovely girl." He said softly, turning and stepping down the steps, picking up his umbrella as he did so. Opening up the umbrella again, he lifted it over his head, laughter wracking his body unbidden.
"I'll enjoy ripping her throat out." He whispered, the thunder drowning out his laughter.
The caskets were side by side, the graves mere inches apart from one another.
It was a beautiful day, the sun shining and a soft, teasing breeze lifting up the leaves and scattering them across the cemetery. The heat was a bearable one that went hardly noticed among the people gathered, their thoughts on more pressing matters. It would be a day to go to the beach, or a day to go on a picnic.
Not a day for a funeral.
The chairs sat close to one another, bunched in rows of ten for the maximum amount of people. Even with all of the chairs though, there was only standing room, every sitting space occupied with openly grieving people, their dark, somber clothing standing out in the picture perfect setting that had been given. Tears fell, tissues were passed, and everyone was wiping tears from their eyes as they cried.
Everyone except Roxas.
He stared unseeingly, gaze fastened on the caskets and the way that the sunlight reflected off of their ebony finishes. He couldn't speak, couldn't breathe, and couldn't feel because the pain had become too hard to bear. The numbness had crept in, destroying everything in its wake, and he was left with a hollow, aching feeling in the center of his chest.
She was gone.
He was barely aware of the people whispering in wavering voices. He was barely aware of the priest that was speaking in reverent tones over the dead bodies, a bible clasped in one hand and a finger dragging over the passages that he was speaking. He was barely aware, barely there, his breathing shaky, his lips trembling without feeling, the pain locked away as a numb, death-like feeling took over.
She was gone.
The only thing he was aware of was the numbness, and the hollow, sinking feeling that left him near suffocating. He was hardly there, hardly aware of life, hardly aware of anything and that scared him the most because he couldn't feel, couldn't tell if he was alive or dead like the people in the caskets that he was staring at so intently. He was numb, and it hurt to be numb, hurt to feel nothing because if he couldn't feel, what could he do? The hollow feeling hurt so badly, and despite that fact, he couldn't look away. He could hear the sound of the person that was crying beside him, the boy his age that had lost too, had lost and was openly showing his pain.
She was gone.
"Roxas…" He could hear someone speaking just as well as he could hear their tears, and the sinking feeling grew. He didn't turn away from the caskets, didn't look away from the shiny finish on the wood. It wasn't that he was ignoring them, no, no, it just hurt to think about looking away, hurt to think about looking at the sole other person in the entire world that would feel the same numb pain that he was feeling.
She was gone.
The person wasn't upset at him ignoring them. Instead, he felt a warm hand grip his tightly, and he felt them squeeze his hand in reassurance. He didn't acknowledge their action, but he didn't push their hand away either because suddenly it hit him that they'd done exactly what he'd needed them to do, to stay with him even when he didn't want to stay with himself.
"The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not be in want. He maketh me to lie down in green pastures, He leads me beside still waters..." The priest's voice was calm, soothing to hear and tender with grief and care, but Roxas didn't hear it. His eyes were fastened to the caskets, his breathing sharp and shallow. Beside him his best friend sat, holding his hand and wiping tears away with a small handkerchief, openly grieving. But Roxas didn't have tears to shed. He hardly had the voice to cry, hardly had the energy to live.
Why did it have to be her?
"He restores my soul. He guides me in paths of righteousness. Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death- I will fear no evil for thou art with me…" Beside him, Axel let out a soft, choking gasp and he felt that he should comfort him, squeeze his hand and whisper consolatory words.
He didn't say a word.
"Your rod and your staff, they comfort me, you prepare a table for me in the presence of my enemies. You anoint my head with oil, my cup overflows, surely goodness and love will follow me all the days of my life and I will dwell in the house of the Lord forever." His words cut off at that, and Roxas felt his breath rush out. He heard the bible closing, heard the people crying, but it was all dead to him. All he could see was the caskets in the sunlight and all he could feel was the hand pressing against his so insistently, so painfully.
"I understand… that due to the families' requests… that only their roses are dropped onto the caskets." The priest looked over at them- were they expected to answer? He could hardly lift his eyes to meet the sympathetic gaze of the man before him. Thankfully, his best friend answered.
"Yes, please…" Axel said hoarsely, and his fingers trembled in Roxas's grasp.
"If you are not family… please say your goodbyes now, and leave." The priest stepped back as people looked at one another, astonished. They were not allowed to drop a rose? But there was no contradiction, so with awkward, stiff movements the people rose and began to leave or to pass by the caskets with their black and brown clothing of mourning.
Why was it her?
He felt raw. He felt tired. He felt pain. He was feeling so much that it had finally shut down, finally left him numb and aching, and he couldn't stop it. He just kept seeing the caskets gleaming, kept seeing the men carrying the wooden boxes, carrying his world within sturdy oak and ash.
He didn't see the people walking past. He didn't see the way that everyone looked at him and his best friend as they left, a hand touching his shoulder or a hug cloaking him like a shadow. He didn't notice when the cemetery was empty, save for the grave diggers, the priest, his best friend and him.
"Come on, Roxas." His best friend pulled him to his feet and guided him towards the caskets. He opened his mouth to reply, to say something, but the moment he breathed in his breath caught in his throat and he closed his mouth. Instead, he let his best friend pull him towards the caskets, fingers still trembling in his hand. He was trying to be strong for Roxas, trying to take the lead, but Roxas couldn't find it in himself to be grateful.
He stepped up slowly, the caskets looming over the hole in the ground that would consume them forever.
That would consume him forever.
"Do you have anything you want to say?" The priest asked softly, kindly. Roxas stared down at the casket, at the gilded ending and expensive wood, and the breath was sucked from his lungs. Did he have something to say? Did he have the strength to speak past the numb feeling that tore him from the inside out?
The wind rustled through his hair and teased him, and he was a little surprised when he saw a crimson rose fall onto the casket beside the one he was staring at, Axel's hand clenched into a fist as he let the flower fall.
"Come on, Roxas." His best friend urged, and he was startled from his staring as he felt his free hand lifting up, his grip tight upon the flower he wasn't even aware he was holding. The bloody rose fell from his fingers, and it landed softly on the casket, the wind ruffling the petals and making his heart twist sickeningly in his chest, ensnaring the numb feeling and strangling it.
He felt his gaze lifting away from the casket and was startled when he saw the intense gaze of the priest, dark eyes probing his face. Something in him said to retaliate with a snide remark, but he couldn't find it in himself to speak. Something said that he should be upset at the invading stare, but he couldn't feel it in himself to care. The only thing he could feel was the numb, and his best friend's gentle hold on his hand.
And yet, as the priest's frown deepened he felt the numb scraping inside of him, tearing up his insides and twisting the rage deep within him. It was like something was goading him, daring him to lash out, to make the man stop staring so intently. Why was he staring at him? What did he want him to do, thank him for putting her in the ground? For giving her a spiritual goodbye? What did he owe this man who tried to make death seem so ok?
It made his lips curl in anger. It made him want to strike, to erase the stare that the man gave him, to destroy something because everything was bent on destroying him.
"Let's go," Axel said, but Roxas didn't answer. He merely gave the priest one last look before his eyes fell upon the polished, pristine casket and the beauty inside that he'd never see again.
As they walked away, the priest turned to one of the grave diggers, his expression solemn.
"You will take care of these graves, won't you?" He asked cautiously. One of the men nodded and looked over to the two boys that were walking away, hand in hand.
"Would hate for them to be any more in pain than they already are." He said, nodding to his co-worker and reaching down to let the caskets begin their descent. The priest nodded, but his eyes looked doubtful, worried.
"The red head one really looks out for his friend." The grave digger continued, unclipping one of the straps and then the other, slowly lowering the first casket.
"He is a good boy." The priest agreed, solemn gaze still resting on their retreating backs. "But his friend though…" His voice trailed off, and he looked down at the single rose resting on the casket, a shiver rushing down his spine.
"What, something wrong with the blonde kid?" The gravedigger asked curiously. The priest shook his head and felt sorrow weighting him down, the stare that the boy had given him making him want to cross himself for protection.
"Looking into that young man's eyes is like looking into death." The priest whispered, turning sadly away and hugging his bible to his chest. "And I fear that this is just the beginning of it."
Roxas walked numbly with his best friend as they climbed the small hill, heading towards the car that would take them home. As they reached the top of the hill though, his friend stopped him and held his hand tightly, the grip almost suffocating if Roxas had enough left in him to feel.
"Roxas…?" Axel breathed, and instinctively he turned, looking up into the face of his best friend. There were tears in his eyes and drying tears on his cheeks, his pride low enough to be ok with crying in front of everyone. He was slouching, his black on black 3 piece suit rumpled like he didn't have it in him to care anymore, either. His wild hair was spiky but limp and his eyes shone with the pain that his tears hadn't yet been able to convey.
"I don't know what to do." He whispered softly. Roxas stared at him, comprehending the words but unable to form a response, his heart banging in his chest, the numbing pain ripping him apart.
"Are you… is this… have we…" Axel was choking on the words, unable to get a full sentence out, but Roxas knew what he meant. He could feel it in his own heart, the numb that was choking the life from him.
She was gone.
"We're all we have left, Axel." He whispered, the words burning his tongue like acid because it hurt to think and it hurt to say the truth that whispered inside of him, burning his veins.
"But we can't… I mean… we…"
"We've got to take care of each other." Roxas told him, voice low and even.
"They can't… can they?" His eyes were watering more, gathering tears and threatening to spill again.
She was gone and she was never coming back.
"They're gone, Axel. They're gone and we're alone." He felt cold and cruel, the words hissing from his lips, crashing against him and dragging him into the numb, but it did worse to Axel than it did to him. The kind, open Axel. With a shudder Axel lifted a hand to wipe his face, but somehow he went from wiping his face to clinging to Roxas with every ounce of strength that he had, trembling against him and laying his head on his shoulder.
"You're all I have left." He cried, hugging Roxas tightly to him, afraid to let him go.
"I'm sorry, Axel." He whispered, hugging him back, trying to comfort him but not exactly sure how. He couldn't feel, couldn't sympathize, couldn't understand the pain that made his friend cry in such agony. He felt out of it, distorted, numbed from the tears, but at the same time he felt such pain for his friend that was reduced to this.
Why did she have to go?
"And you… you've never had to… why you?" He choked out, and Roxas felt confusion. Why him? Did he mean to ask why it was him that had to lose her? Or was he asking why he was the only one left? He couldn't say. He couldn't answer truthfully either because his heart was screaming something else, something that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with her.
Why did it have to be her?
He closed his eyes and it was like he could see her plain as day, brilliant blonde hair and a wonderful, loving smile. Something he'd only get to see in pictures. Something he'd never be able to touch again, to feel again. What had made fate turn so cold and cruel? Why was it her? Why did it always have to be her? Rage was building, strangling the numb feelings inside of him, choking the life from the painful hollow ache, consuming him entirely and left fire burning in his veins.
"It hurts… so bad…" Axel whispered against his neck, holding him like he was scared he'd lose him, too. Roxas felt the rage twisting within him, and it was like he was seeing red behind his eyes, seeing her face burning and as the screams whispered in his ears.
"Don't worry Axel, it'll be ok," Roxas whispered, rubbing his back soothingly, eyes opening slowly. He felt a cold, harsh look take over his face, and he could hardly control the fury dancing inside of him. "I'll make them pay, I promise."
Hit or miss? Let me know in a review!
Though... I am nervous with this. My slightly humorous one is the big hit... though my actiony ones not so much :/
So... please let me know what you think and review! It really is what keeps writers going a lot of the time!
Who died? Hmm... I wonder... :D
You'll just have to find out now, won't you?
I'll update soon!