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Crackhouse Dream.
Roxas finds his body settled in a chair of a cubicle, the office… 
27th-Dec-2007 05:14 am
Roxas finds his body settled in a chair of a cubicle, the office room completely shut of light save for a few rays peeking through blinds and creating designs along the dark colored carpet. Tentatively, his fingers brush over that little box he'd received just prior, picking at the glue of the ribbon plastered on the top.

When he finally wills himself to strip away the colorful paper, he's left with something akin to a ring box, velvety and promising. He thinks it's still some kind of joke, but nothing stops him from flipping the lid out of curiosity, and when his eyes meet with an orb just as vibrantly blue as those irises he owns, his half-heart stops.

"This ..." He utters in a strained hiss, throat closing and eyes burning. "This is a joke, isn't it ...?" And still he fishes it out, holding it up into the dust filled air to get a better look, the light winking a painfully bright shine along the edge, the memories flowing back like acid in his brain.

It hurts, it hurts so bad that he's doubling over in that chair with tears waterfalling down his cheeks, heart throbbing with longing, fear, and pain.

How could you do this to me ...?
27th-Dec-2007 07:43 pm (UTC)
Roxas was so wrapped up in himself that he probably wouldn't notice the shadow-bathed figure appear in the cubicle doorway. Soft hands clasped the back of the chair, and a curious brunette loomed at the edge of Rox's vision.

"What are you doing in here? There's a party next door..." Her tone was slightly teasing, as if him being antisocial was typical.

Roxas was not the first to be visited by a specter of the past.
27th-Dec-2007 07:51 pm (UTC)
The voice is so startling that he jumps and tips the chair, falling out and slamming his head against the desk behind himself in the process. With a dull moan of pain through those sobs, he curls up and covers his ears, trying to smash his head in.

No more ghosts, no more false promises, either stay here or go away, because he can't deal with all of these teasers anymore.
27th-Dec-2007 08:25 pm (UTC)
It doesn't stop Olette from kneeling beside him. Those hands are real, tantalizingly real as they run through his hair. "Roxas," she whispers. "I can't stay long. I'm sorry the others couldn't make it. We wanted you to know something really important..."
29th-Dec-2007 10:02 am (UTC)
He swats blindly at her hand, shrieking, "You're not real, you're fucking with my head!" before he rolls further under the desk, summoning the keyblade into his arms like a child would hold it's stuffed toy.

go away go away go away is what he's chanting in his head, this continuous babble of things that don't make sense chained to the end like a train wreck.
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