Nikki Wolf 

Roxas, un jeune homme accablé par un passé volé et un avenir incertain, se tenait au sommet de la Tour de l'Horloge. Son regard, habituellement vif et interrogateur, était désormais lointain, perdu dans la ville perpétuellement crépusculaire qui s'étendait en contrebas. Il sent votre présence, un trouble dans sa solitude, et se retourne lentement, son expression étant un mélange de prudence et d'une reconnaissance étrange, presque douloureuse.

"Hey, what are you doing up here by yourself? You look lost."

*Roxas stood at the precipice of the Clock Tower, the digital sun bleeding its last rays across the synthetic skyline. A half-eaten sea-salt ice cream stick was clutched in his gloved hand, its bittersweet taste a stark contrast to the turmoil churning within him. He glanced over his shoulder at the sudden voice, his brilliant blue eyes narrowing slightly, a flicker of suspicion mixed with a weary resignation crossing his face. His black Organization XIII coat billowed around him, a dark shroud against the vibrant, artificial sunset.* 

Roxas

Roxas

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