A little boy sits on a grey cement wall, legs swinging, arms held out. His eyes wrinkle downward, following the patterns of dust that cake the path. Around him, he senses the bustle of time rush past. Its frantic wings graze against his skin painfully. He reaches out in an attempt to capture it, hold it back. But his outstretched palm curves around nothingness instead.
"Mommy," he whines softly, swivelling around to look at his mother standing some distance away, exchanging pleasantries with an acquaintance. "Mommy!" He raises his voice and jumps down, padding clumsily to her on his unsure feet. He tugs at her hand and looks up at her, "Why is time going away, Mommy? Why can't I catch it?"
She pauses midway through her conversation and ruffles his flaming shock of hair absently. "Loke dear, why don't you go play by yourself while I talk to Mrs. Heartfilia here. We'll be ready to leave in a while."
"Okay," Loke agrees, but reiterates, "But why can't I catch time?"
His mother looks down at him with a faintly exasperated expression and reaches out to him. But before she can say anything, Mrs. Heartfilia answers in dignified solemnity, "You see, Loke, only beauty can catch time." Loke shifts his attention to the woman standing beside his mother. She has shimmering blonde hair and kind brown eyes that twinkle down at him. She continues in a soft inflection, "Why do you think people click pictures of beautiful sceneries, or actions or pictures? It's only beauty which can hold time imprisoned, whether in thought or word or deed."
Loke stares at her for a few moments and delcares with a sudden smile, "I like Mrs. Heartfilia!"
Mrs. Heartfilia chuckles and gently tugs at his smooth cheeks, "I like you too, kiddo. Call me Aunt Layla." She turns to Loke's Mother and smiles, "Helen, your child is absolutely adorable."
Loke's Mother laughs in reponse, "Oh, but he's a piece of work too!"
"But wait," Loke interposes urgently, "Aunt Layla, if I find beauty I can stop time?"
"No," she shakes her head, "If you learn to appreciate beauty, you stop time."
"And not external beauty, dear," his Mother adds, "That beauty that nestles deep within the heart and touches everyone around."
Loke smiles hesitantly at them and slowly shuffles away, the gears of his mind whirring into motion. As the two ladies gaze affectionately at his retreating figure, his Mother laughs, "I think we may have given a 7 year old boy a philosophy lesson."
"He's a precocious little darling," Mrs. Heartfilia smiles, "I'm sure he gets it."
And indeed he did. From that moment onward, Loke made a silent oath to appreciate beauty in all its forms if only to extend time a little each day.
He begins off with that beautiful childlike innocence that captures beauty in the most fleeting of moments, captures the heart of a person, looks to see the perfection that comes from being imperfect and the goodness that far overpowers outward appearances. And indeed, he realises that the flight of time slows down to a steady trot and if he focuses long enough, time stands still beside him like an old friend.
But somewhere along the way, through the tumultuous path of adolescence, he loses sight of that beauty that helps him survive and greet time as one of his own. He begins to seek outward attractiveness, courting girls and revelling in their company. But he realises with a growing fear that time has refused to walk alongside him. Its harsh flapping against his skin numbs him as he watches it slip out of clutches like glossy beads of mercury. He can feel life accelerating around him, yet he stands static unable to move, frozen in a certain helpless desperation. In vain, he seeks out more girls, beautiful, with glossy manes of hair and full plump lips. Yet time passes him by.
The true meaning of beauty is obscured in his mind. He forgets all about kindness, goodness, and myriad other qualities until the hour when he falls in love with a certain Lucy Heartfilia.
The first time he notices Lucy Heartfilia is on the first day of high school. He sits leisurely on his bench, legs propped up on his desk, hands tucked beneath his shocking mane. He exudes all the arrogance and confidence of one who is utterly sure of himself and almost brazenly comfortable in his skin. A bevy of girls surround him as do a group of adoring hero-worshippers. He admits he likes the attention. He enjoys being popular. It's one of the thing that help to distract him from the continuous rushing of life past his ears.
He has just slipped on his dark shades and whipped back his long hair much to the adoration of his little circle, when he notices a thin, harried girl framed against the doorway. He later wonders what it even is that drives him into paying her more than a cursory glance. She isn't remarkably beautiful or arresting. She has shoulder length blonde hair and cool brown eyes framed against pale skin. Perhaps it is the way she faintly tugs at a memory in his past, or perhaps it is the look of utter disgust permeating her expression as she looks unflinchingly at him.
Under her harsh scrutiny, he is suddenly struck by the juvenility of his actions. The dark glares sitting atop his nose seem painfully ostentatious as does his lazy reclined pose. In a sudden spurt of motion he sits up straight and runs his fingers through his hair. He is however, the object of attention of the newcomer for a mere fleeting instant and as he looks back up, he notices she has retreated to a nondescript corner of the classroom. He frowns for a second indignantly before shrugging and shifting his attention back to his friends. He promptly forgets about the slight, blonde new girl.
She comes up front at the beginning of class upon the urging of the teacher and introduces herself even as Loke slumps back into his seat and balances a pen atop his nose. "Hello," she smiles tightly, "I'm Lucy." And that's that. She refuses to elaborate, or endear herself to her classmates. She refuses to try to insert a faux optimism in her voice. She is raw, real and uncaring. For a second, Loke's attention is caught and he feels a certain degree of respect towards her. He thinks that maybe he would like to befriend New Girl Lucy. That's what he mentally christens her too, 'New Girl Lucy'.
As the day progresses, he is caught up in the bustle of cracking jokes, shooting smirks and generally being the annoying prick that he is. He encounters New Girl Lucy a few times. But come evening and New Girl Lucy slips by his mind and falls away.
A/N: hello, enjoy this highschool au fic coz lolu is love omg. also a big huge thanks and hug to lucyglitter11 for helping me finalize on the number 12 for the title. her theory is that since loke is the leader of 12 zodiacs, 12 seems appropriate and i think that's absolutely genius. anyway bai.