will you pause and break my heart?

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

[there's a familiar looking Axel sprawled out on a random bed. he's passed out, the smell of vodka on his breath. he's in nothing but a blanket, a sight that's not that uncommon... what's visible of his body is covered in scars. the one that stands out the most is the one around his left shoulder, which gives him away completely to those who knew him before.

the only problem is, he's not going to remember you. he's going to be a bit hungover and pissed to the nines when he wakes up. he doesn't remember a thing except getting really drunk the night before with his Roxas, and doing some E and... well, not much else.

feel free to harass at will, you know the drill.]

Comments

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

... you were trashed last night.

[brilliant observation. he's still not making the connection that he's not even on his bed]

[whatajerkoff.livejournal.com]

[points the blue sucker at him looking mildly amused.]

That would be incorrect.

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

[blink... blink...]

Liar.

[whatajerkoff.livejournal.com]

I'm awake right now, aren't I? If I'd been trashed, I'd still be dead to the world, probably until tomorrow afternoon.

[blue raspberry is such an interesting flavor.]

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

[point for you, Rox. but how...? he pushes himself up, looking at him, rubbing at his spiky disheveled hair]

Neat trick, kiddo.

[whatajerkoff.livejournal.com]

Don't call me 'kiddo'.

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

So bitchy in the mornings, Rox.

[whatajerkoff.livejournal.com]

It's night, genius.

[pauses, then gestures in his direction with that lollipop, waving it around.]

So what's with all the scars? Shoulder looks pretty fucked up.

[selfishprick.livejournal.com]

[he narrows his eyes, staring at him for a minute, reaching up to touch it. it is stiff, and oh look, thick scar tissue. he stutters, his eyes going wide now, full of confusion]

What the fuck?!