Pride
1/1
They stood, an immense distance between them. The redhead had his back to the blond, a head out the window, and a cigarette in his right hand. Roxas leaned against the wall, and watched Axel silently. "Was Spain nice?"
Axel grunted in response as a coil of smoke wound it's way out of his mouth. "Yeah," he murmured, tapping his cigarette as ash fell out of it and into the ashtray beneath his hand. "It was nice. Real nice."
Roxas merely let out a 'hm' and crossed his arms. If they were under different circumstances, he would have been happy for Axel, happy that he had a good time visiting his family. He would be practically attached to him, smiling wide, and rejoicing the fact that he was home again. Instead, he stood slumped against the wall of his bedroom, his boyfriend on the opposite side of the room, and nasty, negative emotions swimming around in his head.
"Yeah. Must have been really nice," he said, not bother to disguise the bitterness dripping from he words. "So nice that you never called?"
"Rox, I-"
"Three months, Axel. I haven't heard from you in three months! Three goddamn months, and not once did you call!" He yelled, his voice rising to match his rising anger.
The redhead put his smoke out, smothering the lit end of it in ashes. "And that's my fault? Did it ever occur to you that you could have called me?" He was getting angrier by the second, annoyed at the blond for being so upset when he was the one who was wrong. Why was he the one who had to call? Why couldn't Roxas be the one to pick up his phone? If he wanted to talk so badly, he could have called at any time.
"I... that's..." Roxas was at loss for words.
"Yeah." Axel said fiercely, moving away from the window and walking a bit closer to the shorter man. "You don't have an answer to that, do you?" He stared at his boyfriend so intensely that Roxas was sure those emerald eyes would start to burn a hole through his skin any moment now.
"But that's... that's beside the point. You didn't call, Axel. Why? Why didn't you?"
And at that, Axel laughed bitterly. He laughed at Roxas, laughed at the situation, laughed at how stubborn they both were. He laughed in hopes that it would fill the hole in his heart that was gnawing at him ever since he arrived back home. It was a dumb thought, because he knew that the only way the empty space would fill again was if they ended the argument. He couldn't do that though, and he knew neither could Roxas.
Roxas turned his back to Axel, and cast his eyes downward. Because of this, he missed Axel turning around, and the small tear that fell from the corner of his eye. Roxas left the room silently, and Axel turned back to the window; both of them too prideful to admit where they were wrong.
Axel grunted in response as a coil of smoke wound it's way out of his mouth. "Yeah," he murmured, tapping his cigarette as ash fell out of it and into the ashtray beneath his hand. "It was nice. Real nice."
Roxas merely let out a 'hm' and crossed his arms. If they were under different circumstances, he would have been happy for Axel, happy that he had a good time visiting his family. He would be practically attached to him, smiling wide, and rejoicing the fact that he was home again. Instead, he stood slumped against the wall of his bedroom, his boyfriend on the opposite side of the room, and nasty, negative emotions swimming around in his head.
"Yeah. Must have been really nice," he said, not bother to disguise the bitterness dripping from he words. "So nice that you never called?"
"Rox, I-"
"Three months, Axel. I haven't heard from you in three months! Three goddamn months, and not once did you call!" He yelled, his voice rising to match his rising anger.
The redhead put his smoke out, smothering the lit end of it in ashes. "And that's my fault? Did it ever occur to you that you could have called me?" He was getting angrier by the second, annoyed at the blond for being so upset when he was the one who was wrong. Why was he the one who had to call? Why couldn't Roxas be the one to pick up his phone? If he wanted to talk so badly, he could have called at any time.
"I... that's..." Roxas was at loss for words.
"Yeah." Axel said fiercely, moving away from the window and walking a bit closer to the shorter man. "You don't have an answer to that, do you?" He stared at his boyfriend so intensely that Roxas was sure those emerald eyes would start to burn a hole through his skin any moment now.
"But that's... that's beside the point. You didn't call, Axel. Why? Why didn't you?"
And at that, Axel laughed bitterly. He laughed at Roxas, laughed at the situation, laughed at how stubborn they both were. He laughed in hopes that it would fill the hole in his heart that was gnawing at him ever since he arrived back home. It was a dumb thought, because he knew that the only way the empty space would fill again was if they ended the argument. He couldn't do that though, and he knew neither could Roxas.
Roxas turned his back to Axel, and cast his eyes downward. Because of this, he missed Axel turning around, and the small tear that fell from the corner of his eye. Roxas left the room silently, and Axel turned back to the window; both of them too prideful to admit where they were wrong.