A Fresh Start
Roxas huddled against one wall of a building, hunching into himself for warmth. He was wearing a hoodie, but it was doing nothing against the sudden drop in temperature, especially when the wind cut right through it. He frowned and lifted his hands close to his mouth to blow a little warmth onto them, rubbed them together. Shivered when another gust of wind swept into him.
He'd caught a bus out of town only a week ago, wanting to find his own way, tired of being treated like a kid, tired of being manipulated. It turned out, late November wasn't the best time to be without a warm place to stay, and he hadn't exactly had much in his name to begin with. A backpack of essentials, enough money to feed him for some time. Or so he'd thought.
How little he'd known.
He huffed a sigh and watched the cloud of breath that formed in the air. He knew that he could probably find a homeless shelter, but he wasn't familiar with this city, and it was too late in the evening to go to a library to find out. And he certainly wasn't going to ask someone for directions there; he had his pride, after all. But if it got any colder, he might give in. He could only stand the numbing cold to a certain extent.
"Hey, kid." Roxas glanced up at the stranger who'd interrupted his internal debate. Some tall, skinny guy, who looked awfully warm in his peacoat. He tried not to let the resentment show in his eyes. "You alright out here? Waiting for someone?" Roxas shrugged noncommittally, trying to avoid the sympathetic eyes. Vivid green, those, a complement to the bright red hair. Something like Christmas.
He shuddered, imagining how cold it would be in just a month. What would he do then? He certainly wasn't going back there.
"Well, if you're hungry or cold or whatever, I can buy you a sandwich. Maybe some hot chocolate. There's a little café a few blocks away." He pointed a gloved finger, as though to prove his point.
"I don't need charity," Roxas muttered. Something hot sounded good, but stranger danger. Right? But did he even have the luxury to refuse?
"Alright then." The stranger shrugged and started walking away. "Suit yourself."
Roxas hesitated for a moment, just a moment, before he started trailing after. "Wait." The man turned, expectant. "Maybe…maybe just some hot tea."
The man chuckled. "They have some amazing chai there, if you like that. It's on me, kiddo."
Roxas scowled. "I'm not a kid."
The man crossed his arms and leaned close, to get a better look at Roxas. "Maybe not, but you sure look it. Especially at that height."
"I only look short because you're so tall," he retorted. "Like some kind of crazy beanpole or something."
A snort. "Beanpole, eh? Nah, the name's Lea. Get it memorized, there'll be a quiz on it later."
Roxas felt a smile tug at his lips. "I already graduated high school. No more quizzes for me."
Lea tsked. "Obviously you've never had the pleasure of attending college." During the course of their exchange, they'd already covered the distance to the café, and Lea held the door open for him. "If you thought high school quizzes were bad, well. Those are tame." As he followed Roxas inside, he nodded at a brunette lady wearing a pink dress and black boots. "Aerith, I found someone you might like to meet."
The lady named Aerith stepped forward to greet them. "Hello, I'm Aerith," she murmured, and Roxas knew just by the sound of her voice that she was someone he could trust. She had such a maternal vibe that he couldn't refuse when she asked, "Who are you?"
"I-I'm Roxas," he stuttered.
Aerith smiled, and it warmed him to his toes. "Welcome, Roxas. If you need anything—and I mean anything—please don't hesitate to ask."
Roxas wouldn't ask her right away, but he knew what he wanted. And he thought he might've found it, already: a fresh start.