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Warnings: Aaaaangst. Summary: AU. Axel/Roxas. He doesn't believe in ghosts, but that doesn't keep him from being haunted. I'm sorry about last night. Roxas sighed deeply and rolled onto his side, away from the direction the voice was coming from, wincing when his hand brushed against the mattress. He tried not to notice the feel of a familiar body pressed against his back, and closed his eyes to the sight of pale, nearly translucent, hands lifting his into the air. I wanted to see you again. I didn't think what it would do to you to see me, you know how I am. I'm sorry. "I don't believe in ghosts, Axel," Roxas said shakily. "You're just a dream or something. You're not real." He could feel gentle hands turning him back over, the bed shifting as Axel moved over him, straddling his waist and placing his hands at either side of his head. Roxas told himself that it wasn't real, that all of this was just his mind trying to find a way to cope with reality. If I'm just a dream, why are you fighting me? Why not just enjoy what you can have of me? I'm haunting you, Roxas. One way or another. "If you're a ghost," Roxas began slowly, desperately regaining himself--ice eyes and ice voice, totally apathy--"then what's your unfinished business?" You are. Roxas' eyes widened in disbelief, and he could only watch as Axel's face lowered to his, so painfully familiar. He stared into the green eyes, wanting this as much as he ever had, and couldn't move for the life of him. He knew the wicked smirk that came after, the throaty chuckle, the feel of Axel's hand on his face. The almost-touching of the lips, the smell of cinnamon, the goddamn intoxication.... What do you say? Care for some necrophilia? Roxas didn't recognize the sound he made as he shoved Axel off of himself, or the way his heart twisted because he'd denied himself something that he had wanted for five fucking years. He fell to his knees on the floor by his bed, a gasping sob ripping from his throat, and scrambled desperately away, unable to explain to himself or to Axel just why he couldn't let any of this happen. What about your fucking promise, Roxas? What about forever? The redhead's voice echoed behind him as he struggled with the locks on the front door, sounding so angry and hurt that he knew he couldn't leave, and he punched the door once, futilely, and fell back to the floor crying until he couldn't breathe. Long arms wrapped around Roxas' body, and the blond boy found he couldn't fight any longer. He turned around and buried his face in Axel's chest, clinging desperately to him as he cried and choked out apologies and begged requests for Axel to never leave him again. Roxas. I'm sorry. Don't run--just don't push me away, don't ever forget me.... I love you. Roxas fell asleep in his arms, and didn't wonder in the morning how he'd woken up in his bed.  Chapter Six
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