#this hurt.. SO MCUHGCH

[moondriftingold]

" were we ever friends? "

          MANIA.  ||  accepting.

     this isn’t news to him. he’s seen it coming, the deterioration of their friendship; even before those two pesky puppets came along, saïx had sensed their past bond dwindling under the stress of their tasks as the years went on and their hope to escape faded into a bland routine. they’d hung onto each other for so long for a common cause, for common fond memories — but once axel had found a friendship he could fake well enough to cover up their lives before their worlds were filled with grey, it was only a matter of time before whatever semblance of a bond they had would crumble. and it does.

     saïx stares at the pieces of it at his feet, fragments of the biggest part of his life shattered in front of him like glass, heavy panels of it broken and brittle and discarded to be forgotten. he blinks and it’s gone. 

     he blinks and he’s never been so alone.

     were we ever friends? it’s spat at him in a bitter anger, and saïx knows very well what the set of axel’s jaw means. he knows what that sturdy line in his shoulders translates to, what the fire behind his eyes entails, what the curl of his fists means for them both. if saïx had a heart, he’d kill his old friend for breaking it.

     were we ever friends?

                       does the past mean nothing to you?

     saïx doesn’t have a human memory to compare this to. he doesn’t have a phantom feeling to label this sorrow-filled rage with, so he won’t label it with anything; he goes stone cold and sets himself on infuriating the redhead further with ice and ignorance, golden gaze boring into him, freezing the fire behind those emerald greens.

                   ❝  you know—-  ❞ 

     everything is ruined. everything is falling apart. those damn kids have stripped him of everything — his plan, his hope of escaping this hell, and now, the only tie he has left to his humanity. they’ve stuck their greedy little hands into his chest and carved out every last thing he’d had, and now all saïx is left with is the empty shell that he so loathes being attached to. the nobody tilts his chin up, looking upon the redhead he’d once called his best friend, and he lies because it’s the only thing he knows how to do anymore.

                   ❝  i’m beginning to wonder that, myself.  ❞