[There goes his heart again, a tug in his chest. He remembers Alice. Remembers the rabbit. Remembers the dumb argument they had about the sleeping doorknob and the roses. And then for no reason at all, he feels awful. Looking down at Roxas, at his journal, all he can think about is how he's sorry he let Roxas hurt, sorry he couldn't pull Roxas out from the dark.]
[The scarf is clumsily wrapped around his neck, tiny hands pulling it snugly. It's unexpected. Surprising. But it's perfect. Even like this, Roxas is looking out for him. It's so like him.]
[He's looking down at the scarf around his neck, at the cloth in his hands, but it's all getting blurry. He turns his gaze up and away, and Roxas might hear a soft noise awfully close to a sniffle, but nothing else. Instead, Sora recovers fairly quick, giving Roxas a quiet laugh and a sheepish grin.]
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[The scarf is clumsily wrapped around his neck, tiny hands pulling it snugly. It's unexpected. Surprising. But it's perfect. Even like this, Roxas is looking out for him. It's so like him.]
[He's looking down at the scarf around his neck, at the cloth in his hands, but it's all getting blurry. He turns his gaze up and away, and Roxas might hear a soft noise awfully close to a sniffle, but nothing else. Instead, Sora recovers fairly quick, giving Roxas a quiet laugh and a sheepish grin.]
Looks like I already did.