[Axel returns to the apartment, closing the door behind him and toeing off his shoes to leave them by the entrance. Sliding his coat off his shoulders, he tosses it on a hook near the door and rolls his shoulders back. That was not a conversation he wanted to have; he really despises being the harbinger of bad news, and seeing Lea that upset was more of a throwback to those days than he wants to admit. Despite everything the kid has done to be different, to not follow the path he believes will lead him to the future Axel lives, he's still exactly the same. Beneath the tattooed lines and all the anger, he's the same as Axel had been when he was that age: angry and ready to fight for no damn reason. When there is a reason, then all the better, but Lea carries around so much hurt and rage at everything around him that he can't control that it makes Axel ache, because he knows exactly how it feels.
Or how it used to feel. Or something.]
Xion?
[He's not sure what he did to deserve a present, but he supposes he'll take what he can
( ... )
[Xion looks up at the sound of the front door opening and closing, and she shuffles around the messy little present she has in her hands.]
In here!
[Earlier that day, Xion had gone to try and find a few seashells, to see if she could find some nice ones to take back to show her friends -- but instead, she found flowers. Asking one of the natives, they'd given her the name of the pretty blooms, and Xion realized that she just had to bring some home to Axel.]
[Xion hops up when Axel heads to the door, going to join him so they can head out. She's still...fidgety, but she's at least managing a smile. Ice cream was a good way to take her mind off things -- and it would give her some time to think about how she would tell Axel what he quite obviously deserved to know.]
[He holds the door open with one hand, stepping toward the jamb so she can walk beneath his arm, then lets it swing shut behind them.]
I figured the usual spot; the guy next to the juice vendor is the only one who does the seasalt any justice, really. [Opening up a portal, he finds himself wondering why he bothered to usher them out into the hall when they could have just as easily portaled from inside. ... Oh well.] Come on, then; maybe we can grab a sandwich or something--have you eaten yet?
I... [... can't remember when I last ate...] No. Sandwiches it is, I guess. [The portal spills them out into the plaza, and he tilts his head toward one of the little cafes. Sandwiches are ordered, and as he sits there just nibbling at a turkey and cheese on rye, he finds himself marveling at the dichotomy of mundane and insane in his life. Two days ago he was submitting a report to a superior he thought he would never answer to again. Not half an hour ago he was in a shouting match with Lea about a past he would have sooner forgotten. And now here he is, eating lunch with a friend he managed to forget without meaning to, wanting to, and wondering just how he fell back into what felt like familiarity with her.
Reaching out to steal one of her pickle spears (as his sandwich came with fries instead), he points it at her.] So what's on your mind? [He takes a bite of the pickle and eyes her carefully.] You keep looking like you're about to say something and bite your tongue instead.
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Okay, I'll be back soon. I just had to take care of something.
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Kay, see you in a bit.
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Or how it used to feel. Or something.]
Xion?
[He's not sure what he did to deserve a present, but he supposes he'll take what he can ( ... )
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In here!
[Earlier that day, Xion had gone to try and find a few seashells, to see if she could find some nice ones to take back to show her friends -- but instead, she found flowers. Asking one of the natives, they'd given her the name of the pretty blooms, and Xion realized that she just had to bring some home to Axel.]
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Where do you want to get it from?
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I figured the usual spot; the guy next to the juice vendor is the only one who does the seasalt any justice, really. [Opening up a portal, he finds himself wondering why he bothered to usher them out into the hall when they could have just as easily portaled from inside. ... Oh well.] Come on, then; maybe we can grab a sandwich or something--have you eaten yet?
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[Because she was more than happy for lunch before ice cream.]
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Reaching out to steal one of her pickle spears (as his sandwich came with fries instead), he points it at her.] So what's on your mind? [He takes a bite of the pickle and eyes her carefully.] You keep looking like you're about to say something and bite your tongue instead.
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