“ i was hoping you’d be here. “ he’s smiling , brighter than the rising sun , as he takes her hand &. leads her toward the clock tower. “ i thought i was going to be late , but i can’t be if you’re with me , right? “ it had been a while since they had last done this. being their own people again was hard to adjust to -- roxas was still having difficulties with it himself at times , but spending time with the people he cared for always seemed to help , somehow. " so... thanks. for being here. "
@destinkeys + sent me something soft so i responded in kind
xion’s feet scuffle against the hard ground, twilight town’s twilight red against her shoulder blades. the air feels a little colder now that she doesn’t have her organization coat – it’s the blouse that brushes against her uncomfortably, something that she’d have to grow used to, amongst other things -- like the vision of roxas smiling again, breathtakingly alive and happy, or how he unabashedly grips onto her hand and she trusts him enough not to pull away.
“roxas,” she says, almost chiding him as he pulls her along, gentle with the curl of his fingers, “how long were you were waiting, truly?” it’s a tease -- something she hasn’t done since -- since, well, even before the last time she sat at the clock tower, fingers wet with sea salt ice cream. “i guess ... it’s still hard for me to figure out what to do with my time. i’m not used to having ... so much of it, you know?” and as much as she’s led by him, she’s fixated: his back, the shine of the sun in his hair.
so this was really really real: as real as standing at the place she died, roxas still beside her. when it came to these things, he was always here, wasn’t he? in his company, things seemed to melt away -- the fear, the shame, the thing that paralyzed her the last time she stood here, unable to find the courage to make her way up.
this was roxas saying: it’s ok, you can come back here, again. ( it’s okay, you can learn to learn to live, small steps at a time. ) so in the way he gives her comfort, she figures, giving him some of her own wouldn’t be so bad.
xion sucks in a breath, and with its outtake, her face blooms into a smile / an arc shining at its tips. “yeah, we’re on time if you say so,” she says, wondering if axel would find a moment to wander back to the old haunt, too. maybe.
she squeezes roxas’ hand. “of course. i’m your excuse for being late, right?” the blues of her eyes gleam, cheeks speckled pink. “roxas, i ... i’m happy you’re here with me, too. i wouldn’t have the courage to come back alone.”
this time, she’s the one who pulls him forward, to where it began, ended, and would begin again. “let’s go, roxas. we can’t let the ice cream melt.”