This one is muuuccchhh shorter than my other stories so far, but if you can't guess, I based it off of the time Roxas spent in the Twilight Town simulation. Only now with a little strange twist. Enjoy this literal short :)

"My Roxas..."

It seems like every night for a while now, I've been having the same sort of dream. Admittedly, it's not a very impressive dream as far as dreams go. Some people dream of monsters or adventures or even of memories...

But this dream does seem a bit familiar to me. I can't quite place how, and yet there's that feeling again. Something warm and slightly shaky touches my face, so light that I might not have felt it if I wasn't partially awake. An even warmer, wetter something brushes my lips...

This is the part where most people might jerk awake, kick off the blankets and sweat it out until they come back to reality. But for some reason, I don't. It's like I don't want it to end, but a part of me is screaming to understand. Who is this shadowy man who haunts my dreams? Why can't I stop him or keep him away? Even better: why don't I want to keep him away?

"Roxas..."

His voice is a soft murmur, low and maybe even a little raspy. My eyes are closed, but somehow I can see everything clearly, feel everything clearly. Whenever this man comes, he comes all in black; some kind of a leather jacket, I suppose? The metal on the drawstrings glitters in the moonlight streaming through the window. They remind me of wind chimes, but not as noisy. More peaceful. The man also has the wildest, redest hair I think I've ever seen in my life. It blazes like fire in spikes down the back of his head. It's weird. I never see his face, but the next morning, I can always remember that hair and that coat. It feels like the strangest part of my dream...at least to me.

This dream man...he comes to my room in the night; never when I'm awake. He says strange things, which sometimes I can catch. Things about being a 'nobody' and how it was much simper just being a 'nobody.' Sometimes he talks about me, I think. Something about "waking up," that regardless of whoever has me, I will 'disappear' very soon. It's never something very good or comforting; his words never are. But his touches are so different. He could be speaking so coldly and yet hold my face as though it were the most precious thing in the world to him.

I'm afraid, but I can't bring myself from this sleep. Almost like I'm paralyzed or comatose in this dream, all I can do is listen when I'm allowed.

I think he knows this. Or hopes it maybe. Maybe that's why he returns so often, even if I can never reply...

His lips hesitate against mine, and yet they feel so warm. I wish I could say something more, but I settle for being able to return the kiss. It's all I can ever do. Even though I'm afraid, I feel some force inside telling me that it's alright. But why?

Finally, he pulls away, but his hand is still caressing my cheek.

"I can't avoid it forever," he sighs faintly. "If I don't bring you back soon, the boss man'll be pissed. Probably make me a dusk soon."

I don't know what that means, but his other words confuse me. It sounds like he needs me for something. To take me somewhere...But then, why doesn't he just do it? In this state, it's not like I could fight.

"I miss you, buddy. I wish things could go back the way they were."

Why can't they though?

"I don't need to go looking for a heart. It feels like I have one just being around you."

All this talk of 'hearts' and the 'way things were' just irritates me now. If I could, I'd smack him and tell him just to come out and say it. What the hell does he want?

I think my face must have shown something, because I heard him chuckle after that.

"Too corny? Okay, kid, I got it memorized."

The dark shadow of his face moves closer again and this time, miraculously, I get a glimpse of his eyes. Green like jades and narrow like a cat's. They look down at me with an almost wicked gleam, but under that I feel...warmth?

Those eyes only meet mine for a second before I shot up out of bed, panting and sweating like I'd just fought the Struggle Tournament. I glanced around but didn't find him anywhere. The window is open, a gentle breeze blowing the curtains aside as cool air flows into the room. Somehow, I never remember leaving that window open after these dreams...

Who is that man? Why do I feel like I know him? And even though his presence scares me a little, like a silent threat, why do I feel so cold and lonely when he leaves?

"Roxas? Honey, are you alright?"

A blonde woman stands in the doorway across from the window. I pause a moment before I recognize her. Mother.

"Just...just a dream..." I murmur, reaching up to my head to try and ward of the throbbing headache I suddenly felt consuming me. Too much to think about. I want to know who that man is and why he comes here so often. What is he searching for? Why does say one thing and do the opposite?

"Well, alright then. Goodnight dear." She doesn't come in and check my temperature, doesn't even pause long before she shuts the door again. Suddenly the room feels cold and lonely again, and I wish i could call her to come back. But whenever I try to say "Mother," it feels...wrong to me somehow. I can't remember the last time I had actually seen her around the house. It's like she wasn't even there most of the time.

Ugh...too many confusing things...

I looked back out the window and thought of that man, with his wild red hair and glowing green eyes. Even though i was afraid, he never hurt me. He would speak harshly every now and again, but he never hurt me. What was his name?

But the pain in my head was getting to be too much. Soon I was forced to fall asleep again, with only the lingering feel of his kiss and a few stray tears in my eyes to full more dreams of him. A vaguer, darker, and even more senseless dream. Not even a memory...