@svnfade
The smell of rain hitting the hot streets of the sleeping city fills his nose. A smell he found comforting. A fragrance he'd find himself nodding of to, until the odd palm of slumber cupped his chin. An odor that felt warm and calm against his face, now smelled rancid, putrid...
In the drizzling mist of it all stood Roxas, back tense, set straight with unspoken determination. At least, it remain foreign to Axel, and in a sick twisted kind of way, he wanted it to stay like that, unchanged.
Nibbling down on his lip, he shifted his weight from foot to foot, almost as if he were playing "the carpet is lava" game, in the exact same spot. But the floor was made of toothpicks, they'd snap under his weight, he'd fall, and he was scared...No, he was terrified, of the drop.
Words oozed from his throat, desperate to get out, eager to reach the ears of the boy standing a few feet ahead of him.
With a pride as thick as wooden, wilted, willow trunks, he bit down on the fleshy inside of his cheeks, until the unpleasant taste of blood filled his mouth, drowning the words in the dense, red, liquid.
Because if Roxas wanted to leave, he wouldn't stop him.
Why should he? He wasn't going to gamble his life away, he wasn't going to be turned into a Dusk for his sake. The idea settled slowly, the quick and stable decision to let the blonde slip past his outstretched fingers and into the outskirts of a place they had grown to know as home, unpacked itself and rolled through his wavering thoughts.
That's how it was going to be.
That's how he was going to make it be.
But then, Roxas steps forward, and Axel's heart leaps from his gaping mouth in an impulsive attempt to follow after the boy’s silent footsteps.
"Roxas! You can't leave!"
It's raspy, his voice...and his upper lip twists under the venerability in his tone.
View narrowed, he clutches onto the collar of his own coat. It ached to breathe, it hurt.
Unruly, wild and set ablaze, his heart thumped harshly in his chest.
"Just..."
Emotions crawl past his tongue, and into the rain puddles circling his scuffed boots.
"Just, hear me out." -And he's exposed. "-Please."
