[fanfiction] Promise Me
Fandom/Pairings: Kingdom Hearts; Demyx/Roxas/Axel
Rating: PG-13 idek.
Pre-Notes: Some part of me likes druggie!Roxas a lot more than it should. It also likes using the word hazard instead of druggie. You may take this as a side-story to Ocean Avenue if you like.
Disclaimer: Sora might wield a giant pickle if I owned it.
Summary: It was almost easier to be addicted to another hazard. Almost.
----Promise Me
“You have a fixation.”
He was a hazard, and everyone knew it. When the bright-eyed boy had come up to him and introduced himself, he distinctly remembered giving him the exact disclaimer he'd been using for years.
“I'm not safe, don't like me.”
Those impossibly bright eyes just glittered and he watched with glassy, detached eyes. That boy was the only one to stay. He never gave up after an incident, never left him when he begged and begged for the other to stay. They became attached at the hip, quite literally, because of his extreme fear of being alone. Alone was bad, but with bright-eyes he felt safe.
Then, another hazard came along. This one had bright eyes too, but his ribs stuck out and he was just as glassy eyed sometimes. He never left either. As bright-eyes would tell him, he wasn't so much of a hazard with people around him.
“Oh, Roxas-baby, you're so pretty. Why won't you open up?”
Bright-eyes would twirl his arms around his hazard's neck and complain loudly until his . . . His light would come and drag him away. And then he'd be left with the other hazard. The one with eyes like a cat's and crimson hair. It looked like blood in the right light, just like his looked an awful lot like the light that came from flickering, dying light bulbs. The other hazard would stop him from answering. He knew all the answers, because he was the answers.
“Don't. Stay with me.”
There was always a desperate, pleading note when he said it. Alone was bad, alone with another hazard was only worse. So then why did it feel so safe?
“Promise my oblivion.”
He would cling desperately to the other hazard's shirt. Cling as if his life depended on it and no one else could promise what he sought. They usually could, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he held the answers. Dangled them just above his head and made him jump, only to fall back down. And yet, he would pick himself back up and try again.
So sometimes they would clash and fall together, in a fit of crazy laughter. Sometimes they were brutal, sometimes they held long conversations without saying a single word. Once, the other hazard had nearly destroyed everything by mixing wrong chemicals. He dragged dead weight out of the inferno, the other hazard didn't weight much.
“I think I'm addicted to you.”
The other hazard sprung it on him when they had been laying together. He had traced the story of life scattered across the other hazard's chest and smiled. Soft, cherry tinged lips pressed lightly against slightly chapped, dry ones. It was a simple kiss, meant to say what he had no words for. The other hazard wouldn't mind, this was how they communicated. If ever there was a drug as sweet as the other hazard, he had yet to find it.
Even though the other hazard pulled him from bed forcefully and played keep away with his stash, he clung to him. The stability of it, the fear so deeply rooted in him.
“Ikanai de kudasai! Okaasan! Ikanai!”
Everything wastes away. Everything. He knew this because it was plain as fact to him. Who left? Mother, father, friend and family. Who stayed? Bright-eyes and the other hazard. And, eventually, even Bright-eyes left. But that was different.
Bright-eyes left because his light left and there wasn't enough light for such a bright creatures. There needed to be more and two hazards just couldn't provide that. It was very sad. He didn't hold that against Bright-eyes. Deep down, he knew that Bright-eyes would be back anyway. Even if the other hazard didn't think so. The other hazard didn't know Bright-eyes though, so maybe that was why.
“The light. Do you think it'll come back?”
He'd looked up at the other hazard with glassy eyes. It was past midnight. Those glass-green cat eyes were staring out of the window-it needed to be morning. Sunrise. A new day. But he could wait for it. Green met blue in a careful, delicate shrug. Maybe less delicate than it seemed in the broken light. Broken like him.
“Would it matter if it did?”
Where was Bright-eyes? He would understand why it mattered. But Bright-eyes was the problem-no, the problem was the other hazard. Too attractive, he felt like a moth to flame. That hair, it was the flame. It pulled him like centrifugal force. At least, he supposed it was centrifugal force. Should've paid more attention in class.
“Don't cry, Roxas-baby. Never cry, okay?”
He cried anyway.
“I'll be your light, Roxas.”
It was abrupt, as the other hazard often was. Together, they could stretch a conversation over a week, sometimes more. He remembered though, he always did.
And he looked up, eyes wide and clear. Like the ocean. A smile.
“Do you promise?”
----
Postit-Notes: What is coherence?
Rating: PG-13 idek.
Pre-Notes: Some part of me likes druggie!Roxas a lot more than it should. It also likes using the word hazard instead of druggie. You may take this as a side-story to Ocean Avenue if you like.
Disclaimer: Sora might wield a giant pickle if I owned it.
Summary: It was almost easier to be addicted to another hazard. Almost.
----Promise Me
“You have a fixation.”
He was a hazard, and everyone knew it. When the bright-eyed boy had come up to him and introduced himself, he distinctly remembered giving him the exact disclaimer he'd been using for years.
“I'm not safe, don't like me.”
Those impossibly bright eyes just glittered and he watched with glassy, detached eyes. That boy was the only one to stay. He never gave up after an incident, never left him when he begged and begged for the other to stay. They became attached at the hip, quite literally, because of his extreme fear of being alone. Alone was bad, but with bright-eyes he felt safe.
Then, another hazard came along. This one had bright eyes too, but his ribs stuck out and he was just as glassy eyed sometimes. He never left either. As bright-eyes would tell him, he wasn't so much of a hazard with people around him.
“Oh, Roxas-baby, you're so pretty. Why won't you open up?”
Bright-eyes would twirl his arms around his hazard's neck and complain loudly until his . . . His light would come and drag him away. And then he'd be left with the other hazard. The one with eyes like a cat's and crimson hair. It looked like blood in the right light, just like his looked an awful lot like the light that came from flickering, dying light bulbs. The other hazard would stop him from answering. He knew all the answers, because he was the answers.
“Don't. Stay with me.”
There was always a desperate, pleading note when he said it. Alone was bad, alone with another hazard was only worse. So then why did it feel so safe?
“Promise my oblivion.”
He would cling desperately to the other hazard's shirt. Cling as if his life depended on it and no one else could promise what he sought. They usually could, but that wasn't the point. The point was that he held the answers. Dangled them just above his head and made him jump, only to fall back down. And yet, he would pick himself back up and try again.
So sometimes they would clash and fall together, in a fit of crazy laughter. Sometimes they were brutal, sometimes they held long conversations without saying a single word. Once, the other hazard had nearly destroyed everything by mixing wrong chemicals. He dragged dead weight out of the inferno, the other hazard didn't weight much.
“I think I'm addicted to you.”
The other hazard sprung it on him when they had been laying together. He had traced the story of life scattered across the other hazard's chest and smiled. Soft, cherry tinged lips pressed lightly against slightly chapped, dry ones. It was a simple kiss, meant to say what he had no words for. The other hazard wouldn't mind, this was how they communicated. If ever there was a drug as sweet as the other hazard, he had yet to find it.
Even though the other hazard pulled him from bed forcefully and played keep away with his stash, he clung to him. The stability of it, the fear so deeply rooted in him.
“Ikanai de kudasai! Okaasan! Ikanai!”
Everything wastes away. Everything. He knew this because it was plain as fact to him. Who left? Mother, father, friend and family. Who stayed? Bright-eyes and the other hazard. And, eventually, even Bright-eyes left. But that was different.
Bright-eyes left because his light left and there wasn't enough light for such a bright creatures. There needed to be more and two hazards just couldn't provide that. It was very sad. He didn't hold that against Bright-eyes. Deep down, he knew that Bright-eyes would be back anyway. Even if the other hazard didn't think so. The other hazard didn't know Bright-eyes though, so maybe that was why.
“The light. Do you think it'll come back?”
He'd looked up at the other hazard with glassy eyes. It was past midnight. Those glass-green cat eyes were staring out of the window-it needed to be morning. Sunrise. A new day. But he could wait for it. Green met blue in a careful, delicate shrug. Maybe less delicate than it seemed in the broken light. Broken like him.
“Would it matter if it did?”
Where was Bright-eyes? He would understand why it mattered. But Bright-eyes was the problem-no, the problem was the other hazard. Too attractive, he felt like a moth to flame. That hair, it was the flame. It pulled him like centrifugal force. At least, he supposed it was centrifugal force. Should've paid more attention in class.
“Don't cry, Roxas-baby. Never cry, okay?”
He cried anyway.
“I'll be your light, Roxas.”
It was abrupt, as the other hazard often was. Together, they could stretch a conversation over a week, sometimes more. He remembered though, he always did.
And he looked up, eyes wide and clear. Like the ocean. A smile.
“Do you promise?”
----
Postit-Notes: What is coherence?