Disclaimers: None of these characters belong to me, most likely to Square Enix. The story on the other hand is mine.
Summary: Roxas has an addiction to everything that's bad for him.
A/N: Okay, I'm incredibly nervous... this is my first time submitting something that I haven't completed yet. (I usually wait to finish before submitting) But I'm going to try something different – submitting a fic which is in progress. I don't know how this will go. I want to see if I'll write better if people start reading a story then (hopefully) getting out the whips and making me finish it. This is a story I have a basic idea for, I know sort of where it's going to go – but if anyone wants to contribute any ideas, criticize, compliment, anything go ahead. I'm trying this because I want feedback as I write.
*Note* If you find any errors, like grammatical, or informational just tell me and I'll fix it as soon as possible.
Commencing fic in 3...2...1... BLASTOFF!
Taking a deep breath he stretched his arms above his head, curving them, his hands meeting above his head, he arched a leg out from himself holding it straight, while he bent his other leg, bouncing back up he then relaxed his position.
He brushed a strand of soft golden hair from his eyes and tucked a bit behind his ear, pulling his face behind a mask of blank; no emotions, he then sprung from his standing position leaping across the small room, following the steps he was doing before at once, this time in a cascade of moves that flowed after each other like a waterfall. He added more moves, spinning, leaping, stretching, jumping, pushing himself and dancing to the sound of silence, a violent ballet routine.
Then as suddenly as he started he stopped, sinking to the ground, chest heaving as he tried to suck air in, sweat running down in rivets on his skin.
He let himself fall backwards, head making a soft thud as it hit the ground, he watched stars dance in front of his eyes and his whole body pounded with the fast rate of his heart.
Roxas was a dancer.
A graceful little blonde, with a lithe, muscular body, who put his whole soul into his routines. His favourite; his secret passion was ballet. He loved the grace of it, he loved the skin tight clothes, the way his body screamed as he pushed it, the way his muscles burned when he completed a particularly hard routine. He lived for it.
When his pulse had calmed he dragged himself across the room to his bag, he fumbled through the pockets before pulling out a small box with a soft exclamation of 'Aha!' before taking out a cigarette and pulling a lighter from his pocket, he flicked the lighter and watched the flame dance, before holding the cigarette between his lips, cupping a hand next to it as he held the lighter to the end and waited for it to catch. With a satisfied sigh as his cigarette caught alight he pocketed his lighter and took a deep drag of the cigarette, held it, before letting out a long stream of smoke from his pursed lips. He closed his eyes and hummed softly.
Cigarettes were his vice.
He knew it was a bad habit, especially being a dancer, and his health meant a lot to him, but Roxas had a weakness, an addiction some would call it; an addiction to all things bad for him.
A/N: Heh. So I know that was really short. But I swear the chapters will be longer. Tell me what you think? – I know this is only the prologue but... still ;D
Till next time RockettShips away!
(Posted Friday the 10th of September 2010)