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roxas

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[makes his way down the hall slowly, keeping close to the wall. he's more pale than usual, and he keeps blinking more than the normal person would, seemingly unable to focus. after a few more shaky steps, he almost looks like he's about to lose his balance, and just slumps against the wall instead, one hand coming up to press fingers against his closed eyes.]

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[--well if that isn't a familiar face. that definitely doesn't look good though, but he's not sure what to do. every time he did things like that, they'd just call 9-1-1 and put him under so they can look at all his insides.

... unfortunately, he doesn't think they have that here.]

What do you need--?

[he doesn't look up, trying to take slow, deep breaths.]

I-I'm fine, I just...

[he swallows, and exhales shakily]

I n-need to sit down..

Don't lie to me-- tell me what you need.

[because he's sick of people acting like they need to hide it. it only hurts others worse in the end.]

[he's not lying when he says he needs to sit down. he can feel his knees shaking, and if he doesn't sit soon, he's going to collapse. he presses his back against the wall, sliding down until his backside hits the floor.]

Water...a-and something to eat...

[he swallows again, sliding his hand down from his eyes to press over his mouth as another wave of nausea rolls through him. still, he won't open his eyes.]

[it's total instinct that when the other hits the floor he immediately kneels down and scoops him forward, pushing back his hair and kissing his forehead. after a bit of soothing, he's up and running. it's no good that his heart is beating like a drum inside of his chest, but he'll ignore it for the sake of someone who's probably in a worse condition.]

[the comforting is welcomed, if only half-noticed. a severe lack of anything to eat and very little to no sleep after the last week have left him weak and very nauseous with blurred vision. he should have expected it, but he's never gone this long with practically no sleep.]

Nnh..

[when Riku leaves, he pulls his legs in close, wrapping his arms around then and leaning his head down to press his forehead against his knees.]

[he comes back quickly with a sloppily made egg salad sandwich, a tall glass of water in another hand. aside the sandwich is a small bowl of fruit salad left over from the ballroom a night or so ago, still rather fresh and very sweet.]

Here.. please eat.

[scoops of some of the fruit onto a spoon and holds it out for him. his hands are shaking pretty bad.]

[lifts his head slowly and opens his eyes. everything is fuzzy, but he can see that something is being held out for him and he reaches out blearily or the spoon, hand trembling. the thought of food make his stomach turn and his throat tighten, but he knows that if he doesn't eat, things are only going to get worse, and with that in mind, he eats some of the fruit, chewing slowly and pushing back another wave of nausea]

[sets the bowl, plate and glass in front of him, settling beside him so he can rub at his back slowly.]

What's wrong..?

[he swallows and scoops up a slice of melon, hovering the spoon over the bowl. he doesn't want it; he really doesn't, so he lowers the spoon back into the dish and reaches for the glass instead. the cool water on his lips is refreshing, and he can't drink the water fast enough, some of it seeping from the edge of the glass and dripping down his chin. when it's gone, he sighs heavily and reaches up to dry his mouth on the sleeve of his sweater.]

...J-Just sick, I guess.

[Roxas has his own reasons for lying.]

[heaves a sigh.]

I'm not letting you out of my sight after this, I hope you know.

[sighs, reaching up to rub tiredly at his face, hiding a grimace behind his palm. he might as well have just told Riku, because this is exactly what he's been trying to avoid.]

I-I'll be fine. ...I just needed to eat.

[and that being said, he picks up the sandwich and takes a bit, trying to play like everything's fine. sandwich in one hand, he rubs at his eye with the other]

You're a shitty liar. I was too.

[moves to push Roxas' hand down, pressing their foreheads together.]

I know what it's like. I have some screwed up heart problem that could kill me tomorrow, or it could kill me three years from now. I don't know. That was the estimate.

All everyone did was coddle me, and I hated it. I felt like I was five again, so I holed myself up in the cafe with my two jobs and I was fine. The girls were nice to me, I did my thing, and hospital trips aside, everything was fine. The only one in my life who really knew my time left were my old folks and my piano instructor, and my piano instructor took care of me.

.. just. Look, all in all, it's not so bad. I won't tell anyone.

[Roxas has never really had to hide it this much. Back home it's easy, because back home he can sleep. Back home he's got other options, not that he would ever consider any of them. Things like this happen rarely, and lucky for him, it's never happened in front of his friends, so he's never had to explain or come up with an excuse. Back home, he's just Roxas, the kid who's out of shape and a little lanky. To have someone other than his parents understand is weird... but relieving. The entire time Riku speaks, he keeps his eyes downcast. It's only when he's finished that he looks up, sighing]

...Thanks.

I've got more than enough sleeping pills and antidepressants to keep me busy, and if you ever need them, they're not very strong, but they do the job.

[a lot of stronger medicines mess with his heart, and it's not as if these don't, but those are risks he has to take.]

If you want.. I can stay in your room with you. I mean, so you can sleep, if that'll help.

[nods a silent thanks at the offer of medication. he's not sure that having Riku stick around will help him sleep...but it's worth a shot.]

Yeah.. thanks.

[he smiles weakly, looking down and picking up his spoon again]

I found a portable keyboard, so... I can play you something there.

[he knows he's had to put mother to sleep with it many a time.]

[nods]

Okay.

[but first, he's going to eat a little more. the fruit is almost gone, so he finishes it up and moves onto what's let of the sandwich, tearing off small sections and taking his time. when he finishes, the only thing left is a little less than half a sandwich.]

[with his eyes closed, he doesn't know who's there, but if he's lucky, they'll keep going]

[he doesn't push her away, but he does try to play like he's alright, leaning away from the wall and standing on shaky legs with his fingers still pressing against his eyelids]

I'm--

[lowers his hand from his face and opens his eyes blearily. his vision is somewhat blurred, but he knows that she's familiar]

.o-okay.

[..doesn't look like he can lie his way out of this one, and he's not exactly strong enough to pull away without falling over, so he just lets her lead up, trying to stay upright. he says nothing.]

[most of his attention is focused on not collapsing or vomiting, so he just fives a weak shake of his head]

[he has to stop for a moment, bracing himself against the door frame]

[waits for the wave of nausea to pass and swallows]

I need to s-sit..

[judging by the way his knees are shaking, his legs are probably going to give out any second now]

[eases himself down, cradling his head in his hands. he doesn't say much. this is already embarrassing and pathetic as it is.]

[little food and lack of sleep have left him exhaused and nauseated. it's his own fault, really, and he knows it, but it couldn't really be helped. after a minute or two, he lifts his head from his hand, swallowing and blinking tiredly]

...s-sorry about this. You don't have to stay. I-I'll be okay.

[doesn't need to be told twice. he lays back, lifting an arm to drape it over his eyes. he wants to tell her that yes, he's been eating and that he's just really tired, but there's no point in lying to her. she knows all about it.]

Trying..

[but for the last few days he's been nauseous, the thought of food putting him off and making his stomach turn]

[the care is appreciated, even if it does remind him of why no one really knows about his illness. still, he accepts it, fingers griping the edge of the blanket lightly. he nods silently in response to her question, shifting his feet so she can sit down if she wants to. even if he feels like crap, he's still considerate.]

[he pushes himself up, leaning back against the headboard and taking the glass from the table with a shaking hand. he drinks slowly, eyes half closed, getting about half the glass down before he has to stop and put it down]

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self, five =/= gives

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