Roxas layed in his room on the black comforter that Axel had gotten him for calling Larxene a b*tch to her face. He looked at the ceiling, just searching for an imperfection somewhere on the smooth white plaster. It was all he could do to keep what Axel had told him off his mind. Although it was not working.
Fusterated at himself for crying for hours on end and then stauring at the ceiling, the blond got up. He pulled his comforter around himself and tried to figure out what he was 'feeling'? And why he was so 'broken' over lossing someone.
"Is feeling this way about possibly losing 'the one' normal? Is 'feeling' at all normal?" Roxas asked himself. This habit of asking himself was happening more often then in the past.
With a sigh, Roxas got up off the bed. He pulled on his 'Organation Thirdteen' coat. Then he slipped out into the hall and hurrily started for the only person, other than Axel, who he could ask silly questions to.
Ten minutes and a run-in with a cheerful Demyx later...