Author's Note: Hello, everybody, again!~ It's dragonsdeed here! As much as I should be working on my other fabulous fanfic, The Dragonfeed. I got, well, distracted. But, if you like this one, check it out right away! And have fun with this story! Oh, this AU, too.
Disclaimer: Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail, and not me. If I did own it, the updates would be a lot slower so yea.
ACT 1: Q&A
She tapped her pen on her chin, thinking. She scribbled an answer on the blank of her test and moved onto the next question.
#27. What are the basics of astronomy? Please explain each sign.
Her pen speedily rubbed the paper, her hand struggling to keep up with her thoughts. Astronomy was an easy topic to her. She didn't need to sweat about not getting an A+. She had studied it ever since fourth grade.
She flipped the test over and laid it on its back. She was done. Her head spun around then twisted to its original direction. She was first one done too.
She grinned, overjoyed.
Glancing at the little digital watch on her wrist, her smile brightened in contrast. She also had twenty minutes of class to spare.
Her hands guided themselves to the back of her neck. She leaned back in her chair, only the two back legs touching the ground.
She could relax as others around her panicked to fill in the correct answers. Genius was one word to describe her. The blond girl smiling to herself in the front row was another. All she knew that she was a hundred percent finished with her classes for the day.
Twenty minutes. Twenty minutes to herself in a room of people. She would have preferred the library, but this place would do. Scratching her ear and yawning, she lightly placed her head on her desk and closed her eyes.
Sleep. Since she was done, she was permitted to do that right? Her eyelids fluttered open for a moment to glance at the teacher with his legs kicked up on his paper–cluttered desk and a magazine in his hands. Laxus wouldn't mind, would he?
She shut her eyes again. No, he wouldn't. Laxus cares for himself and Fairy Tail. If it doesn't concern the two, he's out.
She steadied her breathing, her ears were pressed at the wood of her desk. Twenty minutes, Lucy. Twenty entire minutes.
A foot suddenly kicked the leg of her chair as her shoulders jumped, eyes cast open again.
"No sleeping, Lucy," she listened to a familiar voice that sat behind her.
She caved her arms around her head like a pillow, snuggling and over–exaggerating on how comfy she was, "Gray, you're just jealous that I'm done, and you're not."
A smug laugh quickly escaped from his mouth before he covered it up.
"Night, night, Lucy," he poked her with his pen in the back.
"Gray," she mumbled, shutting her eyes, "Go back to your test."
Another soft chuckle pressed her ears as minor scratching could be heard from behind her.
Good luck, Fullbuster, on #27, she thought to herself.
In her hands were four different books; two rather large textbooks for her classes, one from the library down the street for her own personal entertainment, and a blue book that belonged to Levy which she was borrowing for now.
Her backpack was filled with even more of the dead–weight of textbooks. The bag clawed heavily on her right shoulder. There was only one strap to her little pink backpack.
In her mouth was a pink–colored lollipop which she found in her locker as a present from her brother. It stung with the taste of sugary, too sweet strawberries.
She moved the candy to the other side of her cheek, banging it against her teeth.
She strolled down the hallways. She was suppose to help Juvia with her cooking skills after classes.
The hallway she was on was fairly empty. Then again, this part of the school was always ghastly voided.
A minute ago, she stood in a crowded area crumbling with high schoolers who were either chatting or struggling to get somewhere. How did she end up here again?
She moved her lollipop again.
Bang!
A loud noise could be heard in the coming corner to her left.
She stared in its direction.
Bang!
Her chin was touching her shoulder. She sucked in a breath carefully, stilling watching that corner.
Bang! Bang!
"You little fucker!"
Bang!
The noise sounded like metal. Someone was punching a locker. She even heard a male voice too.
BANG!
A groan seized her attention.
She realized that she should investigate whatever laid behind the corner. Stiffly, she inched closer to the corner until her fingers pressed at the wall. Her head poked, quietly, from the sharp turn. She didn't dare to even blink at the scene she was witnessing.
A cobalt blue haired boy stood, his back facing her. He was wearing their school uniform.
Another boy in the same attire was beside him, leaning his back against the wall to the cobalt blue boy's right. A smirk glint his face. Purple hair with one white stripe.
Her eyes flickered to the pink haired boy, like them wearing their school outfit, lying down on his side. His teeth clenched together in agony, his eyes forcing to be shut. Is this?
Her breathing became unpaced again.
The cobalt blue boy kicked the pink boy's gut as another gasp of pain squeezed his insides.
"Haha!" the cobalt boy giggled, the joy in his tone made her shiver intensely, "Hehe, that's what you get, you freak. Don't you dare ever–"
He paused for a moment before swinging her foot back and jabbing the pink boy's stomach again, "Ever speak to me like that again. Imbeciles should never even look at me. I mean, peasants like your kind, shitty manwhore."
The revulsion and bitterness in the cobalt boy's voice soured the strawberry lollipop on her tongue.
The other boy laughed as if it was a little humorous video of a cat putting its paws into cold water.
These people were disgusting.
The pink haired boy hissed through his canines again but made no attempt on resisting the source of his physical pain. She didn't realize that she was biting her lip.
She opened her mouth, but the words refused to come out. Her fingers shook on the rough walls of the hallway. Even if she yelled, what would she say? What would she even do?
What was going to happen to her?
One more moan stabbed the pink haired boy, this time aimed at his right eye. The cobalt and purple boys snorted in their distasteful, horrid manner. The blue boy wedged his shoes into the pink boy once again, rumbling words she could not catch and understand. The pink boy struggled for air, wheezing with his eyes bloodshot.
One moment, she was cowering behind the corner with her mouth gaping open. The next, she stepped forward behind the cobalt and purple boy and thrusted her ten million ton backpack and four books at them as they screamed in surprise. The very next, they scurried away with the frozen glitter of shock and fear in their eyes while they retreated from the scene. Like cowards in pathetic guilt. Now she found herself huffing loads of oxygen, her ears bursting with the drumming of her heart.
The pink haired boy still laid on his side, holding his motionless body in a pause. His onyx deep eyes half–closed almost as if sleeping. Her eyes darted to him, unsure of what to do next.
They stayed like that for another minute, sealed in the camera–eye of a picture that was frozen in print.
The boy was first to melt from the ice glazed over his temple. He shifted his body to sit up straight on the floor. Her knees crumbled as she dropped to the very same floor. Her shoulders tensed, and her breathing uncoordinated.
He had bruises masking his face, a black eye developing on his right eye. His legs and arms were also shielded with the same black and purple. Her eyes traced back to his face.
At first, she expected a word of thanks and a hug. A hug that extracted the life out of her soul and tugged the strings of her heart. He would present to her the biggest and brightest smile in the world, correctly showing off his snowy teeth. She would say it was nothing and blush. Happily ever after.
Instead, she was handed something out of place.
The pink haired boy observed her brown eyes in a blank habit. His fingers brushed the floor, tracing imaginary letters and signs. Then she widened her eyes a bit in disbelief.
The pink haired boy stuck with tongue at her, a gloss of mischievous blaze sparked off his eyes.
The lollipop in her mouth slid from her parting lips. The boy caught the pink candy in his fingers, eyeing it extraordinarily before licking it then sliding it back in her mouth.
He stood up and brushed off his pants, despise he was just a minute ago being tossed around like a punching bag. He began to walk away from her, hands occupied in his pockets. The last thing she saw of him was him whistling while one hand pulled from his pocket and ruffling his hair. He turned his heels and disappeared into the corner, as if nothing had happened at all.
She sat there in silence, trying to swallow what she just witness.
She laced her fingers around the stick that held the lollipop he'd just licked with the tongue he'd stuck at her. She rolled the stick in a circle in her mouth, spacing out from the world.
The girl blinked before returning from her daze in awe. He acted like none of the events beforehand ever occurred. She blinked again. Why was that? Why did he act like that? Why didn't he break out in tears and wrap his arms around her neck? Why didn't he make her feel like a hero?
Why did he act the way he did?
The strawberry lollipop tasted awfully sweeter on her tongue.
Why did he do that?
She threw the stick away in the trash can, reluctantly. The stick that once held a pink lollipop that was licked by a pink haired boy.
Juvia was cleaning up the kitchen after their little cooking lesson together. Juvia had managed to make some "Gray–bread" and "Juvia–bread" with her help.
"Lucy," Juvia called for her throwing the last of the used, but now washed, pans into their original spots, "Are you okay? Juvia thinks you're a bit out of it."
She glanced at her, a flash of pink electrified her pulse, "I think Sting told me something, but now I can't remember it."
"Sting?" the blue haired, almost cobalt but not, girl blinked twice, all attention to her, "He probably told you to pick up some milk for his cat. He nagged to Juvia about it at the lockers."
Oh, that's right. Sting and Juvia are locker buddies. She almost forgot. A tongue and pink candy flashed in her head.
Go away.
She turned her head to stare at the wall to her left, pink tingling her cheeks at the mere thought of him.
"Lucy?" Juvia tilted her head at her friend.
"I've…" she looked back at Juvia then the wall, "got to go home soon so bye."
Juvia nodded, a smile emerging from her lips. Lucy started to walk toward the door.
Then, suddenly, the star of the swim team placed her hand on her hips while another held a finger at the blond, a radiance of iron jealousy polluting the air in the room, "Lucy! You are Juvia's love rival, and she refuses to let you go see her Gray–sama!"
The blond named Lucy laughed and strolled through her exit and waving a hand off to Juvia, raising her voice a bit so she could be heard, "Don't sweat it! I'm not your love rival anymore!"
"She's just making sure!" she listened to Juvia holler as she swung her backpack onto her shoulder, picking it off the spot in front of the door.
"Bye, Juvia!" she called after her friend, slowly walking from the kitchen door to the end of the hallway. Now she had to only hope her car was still in the parking lot by the time she got there.
Lucy ran a hand through her hair and sighed. She was at the supermarket with her backpack clinging to her shoulder and now picking up some groceries. In her basket was seven cans of cat food, one jug of 2% milk, a bag of apples, and some hair gel. There was only now three things on her to–get list; kiwis, mangoes, and pineapples.
She picked a nice–looking kiwi from the horde of kiwis. She threw it back in the horde and searched for another. In a matter of seconds, she had a little collection of four kiwis in a plastic bag, sitting with the rest of her stuff in her basket.
Mango time.
She strolled to the mangoes and ripped one bag from the bag dispenser thing. Picking random mangoes, not caring whether or not they were nice or rotten, she tossed them into one bag then the basket.
Luckily for her, the pineapples were sitting beside the mangoes. She held two decent pineapples by the little spiky leaf tops and dropped them into the basket. She fixed her backpack and swung her basket on her thigh, heading over to the cash register. And she knew exactly who was on duty as cashier today.
"Hey, Romeo," she said while thrusting her basket onto the counter.
The moody teen behind the register rolled his eyes, "What, Lucy?"
She pointed to her basket and looked at him, "Scanning time."
"Duh," he crossed his arms but quickly released them to start scanning her grocery items.
"Pineapples this time?" he raised his eyebrow, dumping the last of her stuff into another plastic bag.
"You know him, he has mood–swings," she shrugged taking out her wallet and eyeing the amount of money she had to pay.
"It's fifteen fucking sixty–seven, Lucy," Romeo gave her a look and extended his hand for her money.
She picked out some dollars and coins in her wallet, placing the money on his palm, "Cheap, cheap!~"
"No singing," he scolded her, making some quick button pressing with the register before holding out her change and receipt, "Eighty–eight cents is your change, like always."
"Thank you. Love you, Rome," she continued to chirp in a sing–song voice, grabbing her change and receipt. Sliding them into her pocket, she proceeded to collect her two bags of supermarket–brought items.
"Don't call me that, Lucy!" Romeo yelled at her, irritated, as she passed the automatically opening doors of the store.
She was totally Romeo's favorite out of everybody in the entire universe.
Lucy unlocked the door to her apartment as she was greeted by loud thuds and screeching. A blond haired mess followed by a red cat appeared in the doorway with what looked like cake batter smoldering their bodies.
"Oh, hey, sis!"
"Uh. Hi, Sting?" she tilted her head at the sight of them while a black haired boy and green cat in a pink frog costume peaked from behind the kitchen door. She shut the door behind her carefully, "What happened?"
"Uh, haha!" her older brother, Sting, scratched his head, awkwardly laughing, "Me and Lector were trying to bake a cake with Rogue and Frosch."
Rogue left his spot from the corner and stood beside Sting, explaining to her exactly what they were doing, "Sting left on the blender on high for too long, and Lector decided to steal the frosting box. I apologize, we were just trying to make a cake for your bir–"
Sting's hand speedily smacked Rogue's mouth and stopping him from talking anymore.
"Haha. What he meant to say was Rogue left the blender on high for too long, and Frosch stole the cake box. And forget the last sentence Rogue said, he doesn't know what he's saying."
"Okay?" she stepped into the living room, glancing at the kitchen in the same room, covered with batter.
Sting nervously looked right to left as Lector meowed at his socks. Rogue was muffled by Sting and made some weird, inaudible noises in the background. Frosch tried to get his frog costume off by rubbing the walls.
"You're cleaning this up," she looked at them, then realizing something, and held out the plastic bag in her hand, "Here's your stuff, Sting. I hope you like Justin Timberlake's hair gel brand."
"It'll do," he answered her, taking the bag from her and inspecting the contents.
As she was about to go upstairs and put her backpack away, she was stopped by Sting's complaining, "Lucy! You got Lector chicken! He hates chicken! He only eats pork!"
"So picky!" she yelled back at him, ignoring his childish protests and climbed the stairs then entered her room.
She opened then closed her door and loose air from her lungs. Her back pressed against the door, she let her feet slide, forcing her to drop down to the carpet.
Her pink backpack strap rolled off her shoulder. Pink haired boys.
She shook her head.
Shoving her backpack to the side, she stood up and hid under the covers of her bed. Any moment now, Sting and his best friend, Rogue, plus two cats would be barging in there with water guns, squirting them at her to persuade her to go back to the supermarket to get Lector some pork–canned cat food.
Too bad for them, she was going to call Gajeel to come protect her in return for some kiwis to give his beloved cat, Pantherlily.
What was up with boys and their cats nowadays?
Lucy ruffled her blond hair, fixing it into its signature half–do side ponytail. What wonders awaited her at school today?
She glanced at her pink backpack. Hopefully no more cobalt blue or purple with one white striped haired boys, especially pink haired, lollipop–licking, ones. She was hoping to see her number one fan, Romeo, though.
Romeo was the best person to be around at any time.
"Lucy! Downstairs now!"
"I'm coming, Sting!" she strained her voice to respond to her only brother. Today, it was his turn to drive their car to school.
She quickly wrapped a blue ribbon in her hair then examined herself through her wardrobe mirror. Her uniform was nice and neat. Her hair was in tip–top shape. Now if only she could do something about that bored expression on her pretty face.
The blond girl in the mirror shrugged. She could fix it later.
"Lucy! I really need your ass down here or I'm driving to school without you!"
Like a marathon runner, she slammed open her door and jumped down the stairs within five seconds time on the dot.
"Bye, Sting, I love you," she kissed her brother on the forehead while standing on her tippy–toes, swinging a ring of keys around her finger, "See you later."
Her brother scowled, his back leaning on their yellow buggy's car door, arms crossed, "Lucy, you only said that because it was your turn to have the car keys today."
"Uh–uh, it's because I'm a good little sister," Lucy smiled at him, her backpack dangling from her shoulder.
He puffed out his cheeks, grabbing his boring black backpack from the backseat, "Whatever. See you at four."
Her giddy smile faded as she blankly stated, turning from her sibling to the school's entrance, "See you at four."
The girl you knew as Lucy Heartfilia stared at the school's front door as students busily crowded round either talking or rushing to get somewhere.
She was one of the ones rushing to get somewhere.
Her fingers clasped around the car keys in her hand and stuffed them into her skirt pocket. Her other hand wrapped itself around her backpack strap. Don't look for pink haired boys.
She headed to the doors, careful not to accidentally trip over somebody's shoes.
"Lucy!" a white–haired girl stood in front of her, waving her arms.
Lucy hurried over to the girl, pacing beside her while they made through the school's hallways to their scheduled classes, "Hi, Sting's girlfriend."
Yukino flushed in pink like that one guy's hair, "N–No! I'm not into your brother like that."
"Into my brother like what then?" Lucy pulled hair away from her face, not looking at her acquaintance while walking and avoiding other people.
"L–Like," she paused, her hands covering her pink cheeks, "just friends, not anything else or anything. Not anything at all."
"Mm? You sure?" the blond scanned Yukino's expression in the corner of her brown eyes, "I think he's into girls with bleach blond that almost looks white."
She saw a spark, like the one that pink haired boy gave her, chisel off the insides of the girl's chocolate irises.
Fire.
"O–Oh really?"
"Yea," Lucy continued to mark every detail on Yukino's face, "I think it has some to do with our late father, Weisslogia, with his naturally snowy white hair from the time he was a kid."
She had also come up with the weirdest theory that her brother was solely interested in bleach blondes because his favorite model, Mirajane, had that signature snowy locks of hair. But, Lucy wasn't going to mention that. Not relevant information to the situation.
For a split second, Lucy had thought Yukino's bright bonfire was going to vanish, but instead it intensified. Adding firewood and kerosene to the already burning flames.
Yukino squeaked her shoes in a halt and absently presented Lucy her entire attention.
Her eyes were plagued with that fiery passion, almost like somebody had lighted one of those fireworks that came in a box and continuously fired multiple shots of colors each millisecond.
Lucy walked a bit ahead of the white haired girl then twisted her feet back to face her. They stood in a dead end hallway that lacked another soul within arms reach.
"Hey, Lucy," Yukino stared at her, unorthodox confidence suddenly climbing from the depths of her conscious, "Do you think Sting has a crush?"
Lucy nearly flinched. As hard as she tried to become untouchable, things always had a way of biting her deep under the skin. The confidence that Yukino, out of her restricted nature, pierced at her was something she could never match even as much as she wanted to.
It was simply just not in her nature.
The girl who was related to the so–called Sting Eucliffe bit her lip, shifting under pressure.
Lucy knew, clearly, that Sting did not have a crush at all in the current timeline. She had seen him in love before, and right now, he wasn't interested in anyone.
Then again, she couldn't just annihilate this white headed girl's ambitions with a simple answer of yes or no.
That was too cold even for her standards.
But if she lied to Yukino, she was just getting her hopes up.
Then, there was Sting's feelings to consider. What if he secretly disliked her? What if he liked her in an only friend kind of way? What if one of his guy friends had already claimed dibs on her?
What if he actually liked her?
Lucy pulled off the forced smile she'd practiced and perfected all her life. On the outside, it seemed sincere and endearing, but really, it was shallow and painfully strained. It was all acting.
She no longer cared if she just started a forest fire with her one lighted match.
"Yes, I do."
Her hand was on her face. Her class at the moment was geography with Jura.
She boringly glanced to her right; Gajeel was trying to eat his pencil again.
She moved her head to her left; Laxus poking her shoulder, telling her dirty jokes about their fellow bald teacher.
Oh wait, that was just her imagination again, drugging her with familiar visions.
She rolled her eyes. Only an empty desk sat to her left.
Lucy watched the red–haired girl nervously present her project on the history of rock–encarved armors and weapons. It was obvious to her that she'd overdone it with her presentation with constantly switching out her outfits while stuttering on her digital cake decorated powerpoint.
"And um… Uh, well. T–That's–"
The blood–headed girl was cut off by the swinging of the door.
"Is Lucy Artifeltian here?" a girl with white hair, like Yukino's but longer, with bright blue eyes slammed her fist into the frame of the doorway.
"Uh. It's Heartfilia," she responded to her by raising her hand and standing from her chair.
"Th–There's been a…" the mysterious, long haired girl paused, her eyes tracing the outline of the floor, "an issue."
Like venom, somebody stabbed her neck with a sharp needle and pressed the button at its tail. Panic forced her skin to wince. Strawberry candy scalded the buds on her tongue.
Don't panic.
Lucy wiggled each of her fingers, making sure this was reality, before heading to where the white haired girl stood, "So where do I go?"
The girl stepped backward into the hallway, allowing Lucy to move in, "I'll escort you to the principal's office."
The blond nodded, trailing behind the lead of the girl who looked strangely familiar. She had seen her before right?
"Oh, my name's Mira. Mirajane Strauss," Mira glanced at her over her shoulder as they started down a case of stairs.
That's why Lucy had thought she'd seen her before. She had. Sting was a big fan of hers and horded her magazines deep in the drawers of his work desk. Mirajane was a model for Sorcerer Weekly. She was famous for her beauty.
Mira vaguely reminded her of Yukino, too.
"Yea, I'm Heartfilia," Lucy spoke, unable to shake off the fact the girl had mispronounced her surname so badly. She watched her feet as stepping on each single stairstep.
"Right, I'm sorry about that," Mira flicked hair off her shoulder, plainly distracted by something, and halfheartedly apologized to Lucy.
Her black mary–janes hit the last step as its blond owner's eyes darted to the principal's office only across the hall.
"Bye," Lucy stomped to the door that held inside all her current fears and worries.
She barely registered Mira's reply, but she was sure she had said, "Good luck, Lucy."
Her imagination simulated the banging of hard candy against her teeth repeatedly. It was like drumming in her insides.
Lucy fiddled with her fingers in front of the big and ominous, black door, nerve–wrackingly. She wasn't nervous at all.
There were a number of things that she could be at fault for that resulted her into being sent to the principal's office during classes. With an escort.
Her teeth pinched her cheeks, red climbing the skin that clothed her ears, as she placed her hand on the doorknob and twisted it.
The pink in his hair was a color she'd always liked before she even consciously knew it. Strawberry.
The principal sat in his signature office chair; a rigid expression frowned on the wrinkles on his old face.
"Hello, Jude," Lucy smiled through her uneasiness. The curve of her lips refused to show friendliness, but a hostile craze that looked as if she wanted to strangle him on the spot.
"Miss Heartfilia," hummed a growl deep within the nasty soul of Jude Carmen, otherwise the principal of Carmen Academy inside his little economic dictatorship over the town of Magnolia.
She watched, out of corner of her eye, the pink haired boy's former grin directed to her falter as he stiffened at their poisonous aura.
The suited man's hands were neatly folded. She took a plush chair next to her pink friend in front of the principal's wooden desk, without removing her glare from "him".
Jude's eyes darted over to the pink boy before cleaning his throat, "The two of you are here today because of an… issue reported by one of our fellow students here at Carmen."
Her jaw tightened.
"So?" she listened, for the first time, the boy–next–to–her voice ring. Her head whipped to stare at him, his arms crossed and legs propped on their principal's desk. She tried her best to warn him not to provoke him so directly through her brown eyes.
Pink haired boy's eyebrow only rose.
Jude coughed into his fist, purposely ignoring the comment, and moved on, "You two are conspiring in a gang, correct?"
She nearly choked on the air she'd been massively taking in for the last ten minutes.
The boy beside her only laughed.
"Is that a yes or no?"
The boy opened his mouth, but she kicked him in the leg which Jude wouldn't be able to see and answered on their behalfs, "No, why would we do something so far–fetched as that? I can't risk being arrested by the police when I still am attending school, isn't that the same for our friend here too?"
Lucy slammed her foot into his shin as he squealed a short, "Yes!"
The mustached man nodded, empathizing with her, "Yes, of course. How could I ever doubted you… two."
She wanted to punch him and his sarcasm.
"Very well, you two may resume your classes for today. Just remember to stray from unnecessary activities," Jude stated in his businessman–like voice, but Lucy knew the disgust hidden in his words.
She stood up from her seat and exited the room, the pink haired boy following in suit.
They walked together from the office and entered outside of the school, heading over to the next building from the more time–consuming route. Currently, the school grounds were empty due to the obvious statement that everyone else was in class.
"So…" the pink haired boy started as his eyes scanned hers while they passed through the school's garden, courtesy of the gardening club, "You're Heartfilia, right?"
"Lucy Heartfilia," she returned his eye contact, her heart droning her entire thought process.
They stopped walking, facing each other with blank faces.
"Natsu Dragneel," he outstretched his hand for hers, offering a wordless handshake.
She forced herself to pull up her hand, interlocking it into his. Sparks again. This time she could feel them bounce off his eyes and burn her skin like acid.
Strawberry lollipops.
They both made the motion of moving their hands up and down as if they were only learning how to walk.
Cobalt blue and purple with one white stripe.
They repeated the same gesture again.
Pink haired boys.
They shook a third time but this time freeing their fingers from the other's grasp, afraid that if they stayed like that too long; it may have been bad for their health.
Natsu stared at her, holding the same unreadable expression as she did.
Her fingers guided themselves to her cheek, cupping it while tapping one finger over and over.
She imagined as if she was in a classroom, preferably Laxus', taking a test surrounded by her quiet, focused classmates. The room would be dead silent with the exception of the familiar scratching of lead. She would be staring at the sheet of paper on her desk, tapping her pen on her chin in deep thought. Then, she would halt her thoughts for a moment and read the one question printed with ink on the paper, one she'd read over a million times already.
Why does Natsu Dragneel act the way he does? Please explain each reason.
Her thoughts were snapped by her pink haired friend, his fingers wrapped explosively but numbly on her wrist; the wrist that connected to the hand on her cheek.
"So, Lucy," he studied her with his dark eyes, wincing at the thought that if he turned away, she would disappear, "Wanna ditch classes with me?"
The way he'd spoken her name made some click deep in the clockworks of her soul. Like she found something she didn't know she lost.
Like the bullet of a gun, strawberry flavored lollipops charred her tongue with some sort of bittersweetness. A beating, that certainly didn't sound from someone like her, rumbled in her ears. She didn't like this feeling. She didn't like the scorching taste it left in her mouth. It almost felt like she was kissing him.
She didn't want to love it.
Author's Note: The color of this story's a little tough skinned, but I hope you guys will appreciate it anyways. I'm having fun playing around with all the characters. So whatcha think? Cool? I'll update whenever I can. Reviews and everything are all loved with all my heart!
–dragonsdeed a.k.a. who can't freakin' decide on what to update or do on Pokemon Y.