A/N: Hey guys! This is just another story I've been working on. I started writing this after I noticed the great response I got for my first fic. (I loved each and every one of the reviews, alerts, faves and PMs- everyone was super awesome!)

So, without further ado, here's my second story :)

Summary: "Why am I the only one who can see you?" Languidly, his lips stretch into a humorless smile. His dark eyes lock on hers, his gaze deep and filled with sorrow. "Because, you're the only one who can break my curse." NaLu Modern AU

Warnings: Language, Romance, Supernatural, Humor, Modern AU, Justified OOCness, NaLu, JudeXLayla.

Disclaimer: I own nothing. Nada. Zip. Even the wifi I'm using to post this story isn't mine.


Lucy is nine when she first sees the strange man with pink hair.

She is taking a walk with her mother when she spots him. The two of them are strolling through the deeper parts of the estate, with several maids a few steps behind them should they need anything.

"Who is that?" She asks, pointing a finger at the stranger. He's seated on an old bench, hidden behind a staggered collection of aged, towering pines. His back is facing them, and had it not been for his strikingly bright hair, Lucy would have missed him completely.

Her mother, Layla, stares at the general direction she's pointing at with a furrowed brow. "What are you talking about?" And a moment later, she sighs and pulls her daughter closer to her. "There's no one there."

No one?

Lucy stares at her mother with incredulity. A firm, 'but he's right over there' is on the tip of her tongue, but it dies out before she can say it.

Her attention had shifted from the man for just a second, but apparently, that is exactly how much time he needed because when she turns to point at him once more, he's gone.


The second time comes much later, about six months after that fated stroll.

This time, it happens on her birthday.

She is turning ten and the party her mother and father have thrown for her in their garden is amazing.

She wanted to be a princess today, and she'd made it clear to all her friends back at school when she'd handed them their invitation cards. She's really glad everyone has come dressed to fit the theme.

Across the garden, she can see a group of girls and boys dressed up as royalty just like her. And even the rebellious few from her class have joined in on the celebrations by dressing up in honor of the evil witches and warlocks they're always reading about.

"Do you like your present?" Her mother smiles as she casually folds blue the wrapping paper Lucy had bunched up in her hurry to open up her gift.

The wide grin that breaks out on her face is enough to brighten up even the most darkest room. "I love it!"

She pulls up the silver necklace from its case and lifts it up to her eye level. The metal looks polished, and the blue sapphire on the pendant gleams bright and alluring under the incandescent light of the room. The only thing that ruins its beauty is the tiny fissure running across the jewel's surface.

"But I think it's a little cracked."

Her father, who is almost never out of his study when he's home, places a hand over her shoulder. "That's because it's old." He smiles and Lucy thinks that he looks much better with it than the frowns and worry lines he's always sporting. "This has been in our family since the first generation. I was planning to give it to you when you were older but due to... recent events, your mum and I thought it would be best if you had it now."

"And believe it or not, it's got magical powers." Lucy's mother winks, her smile widening when her daughter's honey-colored eyes light up with excitement. "If you're a good girl, I just might tell you the story that goes with that necklace one of these days."

Lucy notices her father roll his eyes, but neither she nor her mother call him out on his skepticism. He's always been a nonbeliever anyway.

Magic was real. End of story.

"Hey Lucy, it's your turn to pin the tail on the donkey!" She hears one of her friends call. It's probably Gray.

He's her best friend, and quite possibly the only child that doesn't seem to be scared of yelling at her in her father's presence. Most people she knows, both children and grownups alike, fear him as if he were death itself.

Bidding her parents goodbye, she kisses each of them on the cheek before running off to her friends. She's barely conscious of the fact that she places the piece of jewelry around her neck before she starts her turn in the game.

It burns a little when it makes contact with her skin. It's not too hot to hurt, but is obvious enough to be annoying, almost like a mild sting. She doesn't dwell on it for long though because the metal turns cool once more, and the discomfort is soon forgotten.

The real strangeness happens at night, when Lucy is in her room, just a little while before she goes to bed.

She's waiting for her mother to come kiss her goodnight, just like she always does, but she seems to be running late. She figures it's probably because she's handing out cleaning orders to the staff now that the party has ended.

In a moment of childishness, Lucy revels in her mother's absence and starts jumping on her bed. It begins as an activity to help pass the time but the longer she spends bouncing on the springy mattress, the more she loses herself in the fun.

"You really shouldn't be doing that."

Lucy stops at the sound of the new voice.

It isn't familiar, not even by a long shot. And try as she might, she can't seem to find where it came from. She jumps off the bed, about to run and call out for help because that's what her parents always tell her to do if a stranger talks to her, when she spots a figure leaning against her window sill.

Lucy stands there, confused. She had already forgotten about the strange pink-haired man she'd seen the other day, so seeing him in her room of all places is definitely unsettling.

"W-Who are you?" Lucy has no idea where her courage has come from. It's almost like something inside her is pushing away her fear.

She admits it's strange, but somehow, she just knows that the stranger standing a few feet away from her will not – can not? – hurt her.

The man raises a brow at her question. His expression is that of shock rather than irritation as he stares at her. He opens his mouth to say something, but shuts it immediately, almost like he's afraid.

"You can see me?" He finally asks.

Lucy blinks. She doesn't understand why the man sounds so nervous, so scared. It's not like he's invisible or something.

"Of course I can." She crosses her arms over her chest, the blue jewel of her necklace slightly brushing at her lower arm. Before she can say anything else though, the man grins.

"You can see me." He repeats. This time the statement is directed more to himself rather than Lucy. There's a shadow of a smile playing on his lips, and the joy emanating from him is more than enough to make the child lose any remaining shreds of weariness.

"Are you okay?" She jumps off her bed and approaches him with a worried expression. Her steps are slow and hesitant. She knows she's not supposed to talk to strangers but the man has been chanting 'you can see me', 'she can see me' and 'oh God, finally, after all this time' for so long that she is thoroughly convinced he's not right in the head.

And as if to confirm her suspicions, he pushes past the window and heads up to her, his lips stretched out in a massive grin.

Lucy resists the urge to step back. She can tell he's excited, but for the life of her she can't figure out why.

With measured steps, he strides up to her and reaches out his hand in an attempt to touch her head.

He suddenly stops halfway.

He looks thoughtful, and slightly terrified as he stares at the space between his fingers and her golden curls. Lucy has no idea what it is that's going on in his mind at that moment.

Shaking his head, he draws back.

He still smiles at Lucy, but instead of joy, all she can glean from it is pain.

Now, without his jovial chanting, the room becomes deadly silent, and filled to the brim with tension and apprehension.

The silence itself isn't all bad, Lucy decides. Because during that time, she examines her strange guest. He's tall, probably around the same height as her father, and his chin-length pink hair appears wild and untamable. She almost wishes she could touch it just to see how it would feel.

What really shocks her though are his eyes. Dark orbs, which were filled with excitement and joy not so long ago, now look empty. And the faux grin he's managed to maintain up to that point only seem to make it even more sad. It's almost like he's trying to hide the underlying currents of pain and sadness inside him with a simple smile.

Lucy frowns.

She doesn't know why, but all she does know is that he's sad, and he's pretending to be happy- and for whatever reason it is, she doesn't like that one bit. He may have been weird when he was repeating himself, but at least he'd been in a good mood at that time.

Now he just looks pitiful.

"Stop looking like that." She finds herself saying. Initially, this doesn't seem like the best thing to say to someone in pain, but soon enough it proves to have been exactly what was needed.

"What are you talking about? What's wrong with how I look?" Irritation flashes through his eyes, but the mirth dancing behind it renders his pointed stare useless. His melancholy seems to have faded though. It's still there, but it's no longer as prevalent as it was before.

Lucy's lips twitch. She's glad the desolate expression on the man's face has disappeared. "Everything. You look like someone killed your puppy."

Choosing not to respond to her barb, he raises a brow. "You're pretty brave for a kid. Haven't your parents told you not to speak to strangers or something?" He moves away from her and heads to the three-seated couch across the room. "You should be running by now. Or screaming. Heck, I'd even understand it if you threw in a few tears for good measure when you run up to your mommy and daddy." He then plops himself onto the sofa, leisurely stretching his legs and crossing them over the remaining seat cushions.

Lucy scowls, partly because the man has changed the subject, but mostly because he's insinuating that she's some sort of baby. "I know what I should be doing." She counters, her cheeks flush in embarrassment. "And I'm not a kid! I'm ten years old! I can handle creepy strangers by myself."

The man regards her coolly, staring at her in a manner similar to the one he'd have used had he been eyeing a speck of dust on his black waistcoat. Once he's done sizing her up, he smirks. "First up, I'm not a creepy stranger, I'm a ghost. There's a difference. And second-"

Lucy scoffs, effectively cutting him off. "You? A ghost?"

She can't stop the giggles that escape her.

"Of course!" He sits up in an effort to sound more serious. "You think I'm lying or something?"

"Everybody knows ghosts don't exist." She narrows her eyes at him. He's clearly trying to trick her. "You're just making that up to scare me."

Before he can get a word in to defend himself, the bedroom door cracks open and a maid scurries in. She is a short, plump woman, with a square-shaped face sporting a glimmer of wrinkles and crows feet. She isn't old by any means, but she is approaching her middle-ages so Lucy supposes that's why she can spot gray streaks on her long purple ponytail.

"I'm sorry Miss Lucy but your mother won't be able to come here tonight. She isn't feeling very well." She relays solemnly, her black eyes filled with sadness. "She told me to inform you that she'll tell you the story she promised tomorrow once she's feeling better."

Lucy nods in response. This isn't out of the ordinary. Her mother has been having these sickness episodes for over three months, always bouncing back up after a few good hours of rest. She rarely worries about them anymore.

As far as she's concerned, her mother is going to be fine soon enough.

The maid is about to leave when something strikes Lucy as odd. Why hadn't her maid said anything about the strange man?

"Hey Spetto," she calls out as she jumps onto her bed and burrows under her blanket. Her bedtime passed by about two hours ago, so she might as well catch up on whatever sleep she can attain at such a late time. "Does my room look strange to you?"

Spetto casts a glance around the area. "No. Nothing out of the ordinary... Except for that box of crayons poking out from under your bed, if that's what you mean."

Lucy stares at her, mouth hanging wide open. "Really? There's a pink-haired man sitting on the sofa and you notice the crayons under my bed?"

Now the maid looks concerned. "What are you talking about Miss Lucy? There's no one there."

The words echo inside her mind, reminding her of the incident that occurred when she'd been walking with her mother six months ago- an incident which she had fought so hard to suppress because she'd thought it was all just a figment of her imagination.

Back then, her mother hadn't seen him either.

"Now that I think about it, you look very tired, Miss Lucy. You should rest. Just because tomorrow's is a Saturday doesn't mean you should stay up late." Spetto turns to leave but stops midway. "You should also take off that necklace before you go to bed. You could damage it in your sleep." And after imparting that piece of advice, the woman leaves.

She peers at Lucy one more time, concern flitting through her slightly wrinkled features before the door clicks shut and blocks her from view.

Blinking, Lucy sits up and turns her head back to the man sprawled on her couch.

"Told you." He says. He's beaming at her, triumph and humor seeping out of him in waves.

Sinking back into her blankets, Lucy shoots him a defiant glare. "I still don't believe you."

His smile drops. "Why the hell not?"

Lucy doesn't answer right away. She mulls over the question for quite a while before she shifts onto her side and faces her guest. "Ghosts are evil... but you're not. At least I don't think so." The last part comes out as a whisper. She has to resist the urge to bury her face into her pillow because of the blush creeping up her cheeks.

The man stands up from his seat and walks up to her, his gait as relaxed as it could possibly be.

"What makes you think I'm not evil?" The humor in his countenance has fled, replaced by genuine curiosity. "As far as you know, I could be a very dangerous... creature sent here to hurt you."

He smiles a little to soften his comment, but the point remains the same.

They are alone, and even if they weren't, no one could see him. Regardless of the situation, he could hurt her.

Lucy shrugs. Despite the veiled threat, she doesn't feel like she's in danger. "Then why haven't you?"

He remains quiet, lips thinned, unable to answer.

Feeling strengthened by his silence, Lucy stands up on her bed. She wobbles a bit at first, trying to resist the bouncy mattress.

She succeeds soon enough, and stands up straight. She's happy that at least from that height, she doesn't look too short when compared to him.

"You were afraid of touching me," says Lucy. "If you were a bad guy, you'd have jumped at the chance to do so." She takes a step forward, hesitantly. "Honestly, I just think you're too scared to be evil."

Scared of what, she has no idea. But she hadn't sensed any malice from him when they'd interacted earlier, only fear.

Besides, don't creatures like him usually give off a few telltale signs if they aren't on the good side?

Slowly, she draws her hand out and reaches for his. Her motions are cautious, almost as if she fears he might draw back like he'd done before.

Instead of making contact, her slender fingers pass through his palm, meeting no resistance as if he were merely air.

She scowls at this, but she doesn't pull back.

After all, she's never been one to give up just like that.

Before she tries it again however, she shifts her attention back to the man's face and almost reels back at the sight that greets her. The desolate look has returned, and this time, he really looks like he's about to tear up.

Lucy suddenly feels sorry for him.

Not many things can make can make a grown man cry so this – whatever it is – must be very serious.

This of course brought about several questions of their own. If he really is a ghost – which she obviously doesn't believe – then how long has he gone without physical contact? When was the last time he'd been touched by another human being?

When was the last time he'd spoken to anyone else besides her?

Steeling herself, she pushes her sorrow aside and reaches up to him once more. She's not a hundred percent sure about what happens next because her hand passes through just like before, but she could almost swear that she'd felt the warm lick of flame on her fingers this time around.

The gasp that escapes his lips is music to her ears. She's glad she's not the only one who felt the change.

"How did you do that?"

She shakes her head and stares back at him, her wide eyes showing that she's just as confused as he is. "I don't know."

Tentatively, she takes a step closer and tries to touch him again.

But unlike the last two times, the man makes a move of his own as well. Walking up to the edge of the bed, he raises his hand and meets Lucy's halfway.

They can both see it in each others eyes, the burning hope, the unyielding determination. Lucy can tell he needs this to work more than she does, but she'd be lying if she denied the heady rush of excitement she's feeling just by the possibility of succeeding in something he was sure was impossible.

They make for each others hands at the same time, and when they make contact, the electric buzz that passes through them is enough to make them pull back.

"Did you..." The man trails off as he rubs his palm. He's smiling, though there's a hint of disbelief and wonder in his tone. "Did you feel that too?"

"Yeah." Is all Lucy manages to say. The electrocution was unexpected to say the least, but she has to admit that although the jolt was surprising, it was not entirely unpleasant. "What was that?"

The man doesn't seem to hear her, probably because he's still feeling giddy from the whole experience. Only when Lucy repeats the question does he answer.

"That was- wow." He runs a hand through his shaggy mane. "Okay, I don't really know how I can say this without freaking you out but here it goes... Kid, we're bonded."

Lucy falls back onto the bed, her legs having become weak from the news. Bonded? To a – fine, she admits it – ghost? She's not exactly sure what he means by it, but the seriousness of his expression is what scares her the most. "What?"

Ignorant of her rising panic, he shrugs callously and continues, "I mean, that starting today, you and I are pretty much stuck together."

Lucy sputters.

He ignores her. "I know it's weird, but it's necessary. For me that is." He moves towards the bed and settles right next to her. His arm brushes against Lucy's but there's no current that shocks either of them this time.

Eying her from his peripheral, he shoots her a grin. It's definitely the most honest one he's flashed her all night. "If it makes you feel better, just think of me as your guardian angel or something."

Lucy shifts on her spot, but she doesn't move away. As she draws her legs and hugs them to her chest, she can't help but feel very, very small. She doesn't even know this man, yet he's already claiming that he's going to be stuck to her forever?

How could her life have possibly turned this confusing in less than an hour?

"My guardian angel?" She asks, gaze transfixed on her toes. "How's that possible? You're just a nameless ghost who-"

"Nameless?" He looks positively enraged. "Kid, the name's Dragneel. Natsu Dragneel. Don't you forget it."

She whispers the name to herself, trying it out to see how it feels as it rolls off her tongue. It feels different, odd.

She supposes it's either a very old or foreign name.

After that exchange, nothing else happens.

They remain silent, and a semblance of peace covers the room as the both of them stew in their own thoughts. The quiet is only broken when Lucy sighs. "Hey, Natsu?"

"Yeah."

"When are you leaving?"

"When am I-? What the-?" He's glaring at her, but Lucy can tell he's joking. "I'm your guest. You don't go around asking guests when they're going to leave! That's just rude."

"But I want to sleep." She whines.

"Then sleep. What's stopping you?"

She can't believe he's even asking.

"You are!" She glares and points an accusatory finger at him. "How do you expect me to fall asleep with a ghost lying on my bed?" During her tirade, he finger accidentally pokes his bicep.

She instantly pulls back.

He feels like a furnace.

Natsu doesn't seem to notice her reaction. "What part of we're stuck together don't you get?"

"I can't sleep with you staring at me." More whining. She even groans a little in hopes of annoying him.

It doesn't work. "Tough luck."

Lucy's about to complain some more when a brilliant idea strikes her. Moving off the bed, she heads to the sofa and pulls out the remote from underneath one of the pillows. Once she's sure she has Natsu's attention, she turns on the TV and lowers the volume so as to not attract attention from outside her room.

"Fine. If you're not going to leave, then here," She switches to a random channel that's showing an action movie. "Watch this until I wake up." She's only mildly aware of Natsu brushing past her as he heads towards the television.

She's about to walk back to her bed, but a question pops up in her mind. "Hey, how come I can see you now?"

"We're bonded. What part of that didn't you get?" His eyes stay glued to the television even as he speaks.

"No, I mean before the whole bonding thing." Lucy explains. "And how come I wasn't able to see you before today?"

"Oh, easy." Finally, Natsu's attention snaps away from the television. Well, partially anyway.

"This here," He says, tapping the jewel on her necklace absent-mindedly. "Is enchanted." He doesn't continue because apparently, he thinks those few words are enough of an explanation.

Without bothering to see if Lucy has understood him or not, he turns back to the movie. There's a scarred man yelling profanities and shooting at the police on the screen.

Lucy pays them no mind.

She just glares at the ghost. "Really? That's it?"

"Yeah. What more do you want to hear?" He sounds annoyed. Lucy thinks it's probably because she's now standing in front of him, blocking the screen from view.

Sensing that she won't budge unless he tells her what she wants to hear, he lets out a sigh.

"A long time ago, I got cursed yada yada yada." He begins unceremoniously. "A powerful mage charmed this gem. According a prophecy or something, one of the her descendants was going to be able to see me. I guess that's you. This was made so it could help me make contact with that person et cetera, et cetera. Okay, now move over." He tries to shove her away, but she sidesteps his hand.

"Oh, come on. Wasn't that enough?" Natsu cries out.

Lucy shakes her head.

If anything, his farce of an explanation just brought forth a whole slew of other questions, but one glance at him tells her that that's the best she'll receive that night.

Reluctantly, she moves away from the screen.

Against her better judgment, she stares at him from over her shoulder as she shuffles to her bed. He's reclining on her sofa, arms tucked behind his head, legs crossed on the cushions, and he's staring unblinkingly at the screen.

Lucy smiles.

For a cursed ghost, he's pretty laid back.

She's already on her bed, laying on her pillows, curled deep into her covers, when another question nags her. "Hey, Natsu?"

"Yeah." He turns to face her, movie temporarily forgotten. He's probably noticed the uncertainty in her tone.

"You said something about a prophecy, right? Does that mean... Am I..." Lucy struggles to find the right way to phrase her question. She's a little terrified at what the answer will be, but most of all, she hopes to God he won't be annoyed at her once she asks. He'd already looked like he was at the edge of his patience.

"Just spit it out Lucy." The encouraging smile on his face is what gives her the strength to continue. "I won't bite."

She laughs a little at his impromptu joke, and this seems to be all that she needed to gain confidence.

"Why am I the only one who can see you?"

Natsu doesn't answer her right away. He stares at a distance, deep in thought, undoubtedly trying to find the best way to answer her.

Lucy figures that whatever's on his mind must be really complicated.

The seconds tick by, then finally, he stares at her once more.

Languidly, his lips stretch into a humorless smile. His dark eyes lock on hers, his gaze deep, and filled with sorrow.

"Because, you're the only one who can break my curse."


A/N: I guess I'm done for now. I wanted this to be short- about three or four chapters so... yeah. Let's see where this takes us.

I'm aware that there are some things that are a little unclear. But don't worry, they'll all be worked out in future chapters.

On another note, I tried my best to make Lucy believable- well, as believable as can be given the whole plot of the story. I have a ten year old cousin, and I guess I sort of used her as a template for Lucy's thinking process :)

Anyways, until next time guys!

Please don't forget to leave a review before you go :)