Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by various productions, etc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.

Summary: I am numb. I can't feel any pain, any hope, nothing. Unless, of course, you count the radiating agony that is currently trying to rip it's way out of my heart and the sharp cry of loss that is burning to make its way through my throat muscles.

Warnings: Pedophilia; Lemon; Lime; Character Death

_ Meeting Him _

I am numb. I can't feel any pain, any desire, nothing. Unless, of course, you count the radiating agony that is currently trying to rip it's way out of my heart and the sharp cry of loss that is burning to make its way through my throat.

The dark brown mound of earth lies in front of my unmoving body, an elegantly carved stone of a light gray peony sits gently behind it. Underneath the dirt and beneath the lid of the mahogany coffin lays the love of my life. The man I had met a mere year ago. Time, it seems, moves faster than one would think.

For me, that one year had been what I had hoped would be a new beginning; a life of healing.

"Hey, Axel!" a cheerful voice called out from behind me.

I swiveled around in the plastic booth I was currently occupying, completely ignoring the massive amount of papers that were strewn across the granite table, and smiled. "Hey, Demy! Get your ass over here; I haven't seen you in ages."

A young man, barely twenty, grinned disarmingly and made his way over to the cluttered table. A slight whoosh of air escaped his lips as he plopped down on the uncomfortable plaid cushion.

"What do they put in these things?" he muttered. He visibly shook his head – his spiked up blond hair moving violently – and turned his light blue, almost green, eyes on the man in front of him, me.

I smirked slightly, my rather long arms crossing over my black oxford shirt – which, if I may add, stretched pleasantly over my broad shoulders; although it didn't quite reach the edge of my faded gray jeans – and leant back.

"Nevermind the damn cushions, Dem, just tell me who he is!" I practically pleaded.

You see, apparently there's this 'hot' guy that my best friend since like ever has started dating for over a week now but he REFUSES to tell me who he is. It's driving me up the fuckin' wall 'cause we always tell each other these things. But it would seem that Demyx wants to prolong the meeting and drag out the suspense.

The man snickered, holding a dainty hand across the expanse of his mouth as if it would stop me from hearing it. I pouted slightly, and reached out to grab at some of the hair that Demy likes to keep straight down and pulled, smirking slightly when he whimpered.

I sat back again and sipped contently at my root beer – coke – cherry coke – sprite mix. I've been drinking it since my freshman year of high school. I call it my super-secret-yet-totally-awesome soda. YATS for short.

Demyx stared at it in disgust before slowly recalling what I had said. Really, that man is just too slow sometimes.

"Chillax, man, you'll meet him soon," he said, picking up the glass of pink lemonade I'd gotten for him five minutes before he arrived.

I sighed and rolled my eyes, taking a look around. We'd chosen this restaurant because we hadn't been here before since it only just recently opened. Family owned apparently. It didn't look half bad though.

The establishment was nestled in the middle of the small town of Radiant Gardens, its old fashioned look drawing curious people inside. The walls outside were made of exquisite afzelia wood where delicate pictures of wine bottles, champagne glasses, and various others were chiseled carefully. There were also stained glass windows made into half circles on the top of the front wall.

The inside, however, I believed looked even better. The walls were made of bricks of dark red, black, yellow, and orange and they were almost completely covered with pictures; pictures that showed famous monuments from all over the world. Breathtaking views of spacious fields, tightly knitted mountains, and, of course, the impressive expanses of the oceans also adorned the walls. And while the seats were rather lumpy and the maple floor was already fading, I still thought it was completely worth it.

Besides, the food wasn't half bad either.

A low cough caught my attention, and I tilted my head towards Demyx, spying a small smirk. I pouted and took another sip of my YATS.

"What? These pictures are absolutely gorgeous!" I expressed, defending myself.

A low chuckle to my right caused me to jump slightly in my seat, and I was about to glare at whomever it had been, but once I had a good look at him, I couldn't. The boy in front of me must have been no older than fifteen, perhaps sixteen, and yet I couldn't help but to find him fascinating. His body was lithe and he probably only reached to maybe just under my shoulders. The spikes in his silver blond hair drooped a bit into his crystal blue eyes. And those beautiful eyes were trained on mine, sparkling with a slight mischievousness and humor.

"I'm sure my cousins would appreciate you thinking so, sir. Those pictures were taken by them after all," the boy's soft voice soothingly encased my senses.

I hummed lightly. "Really now?" I pretended to be interested, wanting to hear more of that wonderful voice. "Are they professional photographers?"

The boy laughed, his neck arching marginally. "Oh no nothing like that. They're both cooks; they took up photography as a hobby of sorts."

I leaned forward somewhat, my elbows settling on the table with my hands together, fingers crossed. I rested my head on the top of my fingers and gazed up at him.

I grinned crookedly and said, my voice coming out rather husky, "Ah, I do believe I have forgotten my manners. This," I waved carelessly in Demyx's general direction, seeing him give the peace sign out of the corner of my eye, "is Demyx. My name is Axel –"

"Do not spell your name out," Dem mock whispered, "Please!"

I glared viciously at him, but then a melodious sound reached my ears and I twirled around, startled, to see what it is.

The boy…this mysterious teenager who had captured my attention the moment I had seen those lovely eyes was laughing. And it sounded so free and yet so imprisoned that I felt a painful throbbing in my chest and a deep sense of longing awaken in me.

I distantly felt the corners of my lips lift up, and I sat back, watching him.

Once he had pulled himself together, a small smile lingered on his lips. "I apologize; my name is Roxas."

I breathed out lightly through my nose, and smirked teasingly. "Well, Roxas," I purred out his name, loving the feel of the sharp letters leaving a soft tingling sensation on my tongue, "would you like to join us for some homemade ice cream?"

"Yeah, my mom makes the best like ever," Demyx added, probably feeling left out.

Roxas sighed sadly, and his eyes flickered to the back kitchen where two men could be seen bickering.

"I wish I could, I wouldn't mind some free ice cream," he smiled slightly, "Unfortunately, I need to hang around and help out my cousins."

Demyx looked sad for a minute before brightening. "Well then we'll just have to bring you some tomorrow! Are you gonna be helping out then too?"

I grinned at Dem's idea, and tilted my head up so that I could get a better look at Roxas' face. My heart skipped a beat before pounding sporadically. The blond had a smile so absolutely breathtaking, it made his eyes shine and his face glow.

"That would be fantastic!" Roxas breathed excitedly, "And yeah, I'll be here tomorrow."

I stood up, my lean body easily towering over his own. I placed my hand on his head and ruffled his hair, a big smirk adorning my face as I saw one of his eyes close so none of his hair poked the sensitive orbs. I leant over slightly until I reached his ear, and whispered, "I look forward to seeing you again, Roxas."

I chuckled quietly at the soft pink hue the teenager's cheeks had taken as he huffed and turned his head the other way.

"Me too," Demy says quickly, trying to save the boy from more embarrassment.

Roxas ducked out from under my hand and took a few steps back. His eyes widened marginally as he got a better look at us.

"Um how old are you guys anyway?" he asked tentatively, probably fearing the answer.

I let a manic grin slide across my face as I pointed a thumb at my chest. "Well I'm twenty three, but this idiot over here is only twenty," I introduced while dodging the punch Demyx had aimed at my head.

My face softened as I saw Roxas looking slightly uncertain. "Don't worry; we won't hurt ya or anything. You'll find that even though we're older, we might as well be fifteen again," I assured.

"Or five," Dem muttered.

I ignored him in favor of watching a mirage of conflicting emotions flash across the teen's face before he sighed, resigned. "Well, I suppose I don't really care. I'm fifteen by the way."

I grinned. That was an acceptance if I ever heard one.

© 2010 Inyx Dawn