Disclaimer: I don't own KH or it's characters; i just like to play with them.

Roxas ran like his life depended on it. Casting an occasional glance to be sure no one was following him, the boy traveled the familiar streets of his town, imagining that he had finally made his escape. Running from home at this hour of the night was dangerous, but there was no more patience in the child for his father's beatings, for his siblings' indifference, for a life that seemed to stretch into a dismal future with no purpose, except to become a peasant blacksmith like his father. No, it would end tonight.

Still, Roxas swore he was being followed. Did his father catch him sneaking out and send a brother after him? Or perhaps it was a thief? Though why a thief would be following a boy of only fifteen with nothing but the clothes on his back perplexed Roxas slightly. But in any case, he ducked into an alleyway, just to be sure. And only then he discovered that he was not alone.

Roxas turned his head back to the alley's entrance only to find a figure in his way. Just as he suspected a thief. A very tall thief, at that. But he would be damned if he let this intruder stand in the way of his freedom, stubborn as he was. Steeling his legs, Roxas prepared himself for a fight. That was, until the intruder stepped into the light of the gas lamp hanging over the alley.

He had never seen one before, but Roxas knew, by the skin as pale as death, and the coldness that had suddenly infiltrated the alley he stood in, that he was in the midst of a vampire.

He knew about vampires. Only the things he had been told by his elder siblings and his mother before she faded from this world and from his. Things about garlic and sunlight and coffins and fangs. Razor sharp fangs that thirsted for blood of the living. He knew enough to stay away. Enough to be frightened.

Vampires were plentiful in their village, as well as the surrounding villages, ever since the vampire king had conquered the surrounding territory. That was nearly a century ago. Roxas had grown up knowing never to stray the village at night, for the vampire would come and feast on his blood. Roxas found himself rooted where he stood, feeling his courage drain.

Vampire…!

Although he didn't give it much thought then and there, paralyzed with fear as he was, Roxas recognized that is was not the sort of wild, feral and beastly vampire he was staring at, the kind he had always been taught about. No, this one wore clothing that could only be described as fine—a velvet doublet of deep crimson, breeches that could have been silk for their exquisite texture, and riding boots that must have been polished that same night for the way they reflected the light of the gas lamp above the alley, all topped off with a cloak as black as night—an aristocrat at the very least. His stance and height were positively…regal. But still he would look no higher than the creature's neck. Instead he observed the subtle glitter of rings on the hands of the tall vampire, gleaming just a little from beneath their places under his cloak.

Roxas was broken out of his reverie by a soft speech:

"What is your name, child?"

The voice was strangely gentle and soothing, not at all what Roxas was expecting to here. He registered it as the vampire speaking to him, but refused to look up. Don't look into his eyes!

"Child, look at me and tell me your name."

The voice was still soft, but more forceful, and Roxas, on edge as he was, lifted his head in alarm. And there he was met with sparkling emeralds that were the vampire's eyes. There was a fair distance between them but even so, those eyes shone like stars to Roxas. Green was a rare color of eye as it was, but this green…Roxas was captivated. He vaguely registered twin marks beneath the creature's eyes, like black tears frozen in time, elegant, albeit short brows, and hair…was it red? And was that a jewel in one of his strangely delicate looking ears? Roxas had never seen so many luxuries in his life, let alone on one being. He couldn't help but think that for all the creature before him may be, he was first and foremost breathtakingly beautiful. He was still observing when…

"Roxas."

His name came out with no thought behind it at all, almost as soon as their eyes had met. No! Why did I do that?

Roxas' face must have shone some reaction, because the vampire smiled just a bit, showing the slightest hint of fang. The vampire reached out an elegant hand to him. Then:

"Roxas…come into my arms."

It was said almost lovingly, with Roxas' name coming out of the smiling mouth like a hushed melody. And Roxas was by then powerless to refuse the caressing command. His feet moved of their own accord as his mind was clouded by vampiric influence. He quickly closed the distance between himself and the vampire and found himself in a surprisingly warm embrace. The vampire held Roxas close, kneeling slightly on a knee to minimize the height difference, snaking his long fingers through the boy's unruly hair and smoothing it, attempting to physically calm the child whose breathing had become erratic with fear. Please don't…

Roxas was trying to hold back tears, wishing he had never even thought of running away. At least in his house he would have been safe from this. He would have given anything to go home then, would have tolerated the beatings his father doled out silently if only he were allowed to just live. Even through the thick haze in his mind, Roxas knew what would happen next.

The beautiful vampire felt the child shudder as he tried to keep his tears in his eyes. Ever so gently, he pressed Roxas' head into the crook of his neck, running his other hand along the boy's back and side, cursing internally at whoever had let the child become so thin. Even under the dirt and ill-fitting peasants' clothes, the vampire had recognized the boy's frail beauty, speaking to him of a long lost pedigree that had resurfaced into a peasant household from which the boy had come, if his attire was any indication. Whoever missed this beauty was a fool for not holding onto him in the first place, the vampire decided. Well, "finders keepers", wasn't it? But first:

"Shh…this will only hurt a little. Relax for me, Roxas…"

Roxas almost marveled when his body began to obey without his will behind it. The anxiety in his belly was beginning to flutter away. But it was just as well, he supposed. He was already deep within the vampire's influence. But if this was going to be his end, he wanted it to at least seem slightly more personal than dying to feed another. Slowly and with some uncertainty, Roxas wrapped his arms around the taller being's neck, his small hands coming into contact with the vampire's soft locks that seemed to be arranged in erratic spikes across his head, as much as Roxas could tell by touch.

This the vampire seemed to reciprocate, holding Roxas tighter to himself, seemingly nuzzling the place on his neck he was preparing to mark. The little hands tugging lightly on his hair only urged him further. The boy was simply mouthwatering. With a practiced swiftness, the vampire inserted long canines into the tender little neck.

Roxas allowed a choked cry to escape his lips and the tears that had welled up in his eyes finally spilled over. Initially it was a cry of surprise, for he had been relaxed up until that point from the vampire's influence. Now it seemed that the creature had withdrawn his influence altogether, for Roxas' surprised yelp quickly turned into a moan of pain. His mind began to reel from it and he struggled to get away, to move from the source of pain in his neck. But the more he struggled, the deeper the fangs seemed to pierce, until at last, he let his body fall limp as the fangs seemed to reach his very core, so long they seemed to him. As soon as he stopped his struggle, however, the fangs' progression stopped at well.

"Good boy," he heard the muffled whisper from just below his ear.

The pain seemed to ebb, but then the vampire started to drink from the punctures.

Roxas convulsed then, from shock, and from pain, which seemed to be a fire that spread from the punctures and throughout his veins with each pull on his life's blood, until it had reached the very tips of his fingers and toes and lingered there. It seared him further until he thought it unbearable, and then…

And then nothing. Roxas felt distanced, the pain still there, but far away now, somewhere in the background. Instead, the foreground of his sensation was increasingly occupied by a pleasantly cool feeling, and another feeling that was spreading from his belly where previously anxiety was coiled, a feeling that was unfamiliar to him but perhaps even more pleasant than the first. This second feeling worked its way through his lower half, throughout his loins where he was taught to avoid with his eyes. He felt his cheeks flare at this new feeling.

A minute or an hour later, Roxas began feeling fatigue. The rhythmic pull on his blood was making Roxas weak, and he let his body go limp, only managing to keep the fingers of one hand curled in the mass of red hair belonging to the vampire while the other held on loosely to the edge of the vampire's plush doublet. His vision began to swim, so he closed his eyes. He registered vaguely that he was being lifted into strong, marble arms, and that the fangs that belonged to the owner of those arms were being retracted with a semi-palpable sting, leaving the twin wounds to bleed freely.

He had so many questions. Would he die? Would he become a vampire himself? What would happen to him now? But what came out was…

"Who are you?"

The vampire chuckled at this, a magical sound to Roxas' hypersensitive ears, like bells gently agitated by the ocean breeze, the vibration from the vampire's chest leaving him tingling. Azure met emerald.

"Axel. Sleep now, Roxas."

And Roxas did just so, letting himself be carried away by the vampire into a velveteen oblivion, finally finding sanctuary in those marble arms.