Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail or any of its characters.


My Monday morning started off like most Mondays do, putting the sound of my alarm into my dream and unconsciously hitting the snooze. I battled consciousness fiercely with a sword in my hand. I was the female protagonist in the story I have been writing for the past month and I was getting to the climax. As I brought my sword down towards my enemy I was ripped from my dream. Groaning, I slowly turned over and swiped my phone from the side table, hitting the home button in the process. I lazily opened one eye and gazed at the time, 8:30am was plastered in large black numbers against the backdrop of my dog, Plue. Sighing contently, I closed my eye, only to snap both open in horror. I smashed my thumb on my phone's home button. Plue's happy face enhanced the irony of the situation as my panic sunk in. 8:31 am. I was supposed to be at a presentation for the writers' craft course I was taking at school. My heart sunk when I randomly select our topic, How Shakespeare shaped modern day writing, what a bore. I much preferred stories that took me to a different universe where magic and mystical creatures come to light. Where you can be anything and any one you like… But I digress, I had to get going. My group was going to kill me, quite literally.

Ripping the sheets from my toasted body, I fell, none too nicely, out of my bed. My bedsheet tangled my feet as if protesting for me to stay, crying "No Lucy, please don't go." I pulled my blonde hair into a messy bun and skipped the makeup. I quickly glanced in the mirror to survey the damage from last night's lack of sleep. I had gotten a break in my writer's block and cranked out two chapters for my, hopefully, successful debut into the world of professional writing. My usual bright brown eyes were dim with sleep and rimmed with dark circles. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and sighed, I looked like a mess. Shaking the negative thoughts from my head, I threw on a pair of pants that I found on the floor, they smelled alright, and buttoned up a wrinkled white blouse with delicate pink flowers scattered here and there. It would have to do. My feet pounded against the hardwood as I flew down the stairs. I grabbed my bag, thanking my past self for packing the papers I needed for today the night prior, kissed my mother's cheek and flew out of the door, hearing her faint call of "–slam the door" as I left. It wasn't the first time this has happened and I'd have to apologize for to her later.

My commute to the FTU campus was relatively smooth. There were none of the usual delays, like a trespasser on track level or someone pulling the emergency alarm. Perhaps my day was looking up. I had arrived on campus with 20 minutes to spare and decided that I needed a good cup of joe to help me get throw the dreadful presentation I was about to perform. I could taste the bitterness of the coffee as I stepped through the café doors. The strong scent of coffee beans assaulted my nose and my senses perked a bit. Yes, this is exactly what I need. The line wasn't too bad and before long I had my fix in large navy cup with the school's golden emblem printed on the front, one milk and one sugar. The heat of the prized beverage warmed my hands as I left the campus café with 13 minutes to spare. The lecture hall wasn't too far of a walk and I could make it with a few minutes to spare if I ran. To save time I quickly pulled out my file folder full of the papers that I needed for the presentation and against my better judgement I took off in a mild sprint. My grasp on the world around me was lost as my mind focused on my sole goal of reaching the lecture hall, coffee unscathed. The folder began slipping from my grasp and I took my eye off the path for one second to fix–

"Watch out" voice yelled out, but it was too late. Coffee and papers flew into a mess as I collided with a stranger on my hurried path, and although I was worried for the poor person I ran into, my mind was muddled with grievance for my now deceased coffee.

A hand waved in front of my face, pulling me from my thoughts and a worried voice asked, "are you alright?"

"Oh, um, yes. I am, thank you" I stumbled a bit with my words, a faint blush spread across my cheeks warming my body in embarrassment. I got off my sore rear and began gathering, what I had hoped to be, my papers from sea of white on the floor. The stranger did the same. Once I had collected what appeared to be all my papers, I apologized once again to the stranger and turned to continue towards the lecture hall.

"Wait, I believe this is yours as well" he chuckled.

As I halted and spun around quickly, reaching out to grab the paper from his hands, I finally got a good look at him. In one hand, he had his papers all thrown together and mine extended in the other. His pink hair fell messily in front of his boyish face. My first thought, as I'm sure is everyone else's first thought as well, was what the hell was going on with his hair? Pink of all colours?

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked again, his smile growing along with my blush and at this point I'm sure my face matched his hair colour. His dark rimmed glasses guarded his emerald eyes that were lit up from the playful smiled he had on his face. He wore a long sleeve black shirt paired with acid washed jeans, splatter with bits of different coloured paints. A paintbrush tucked behind his ears. Arts department, I thought, THAT explains the hair. He was actually quite cute. I admired him for a split second and took my papers from him, thanking him quickly before heading towards the lectures, once again, unaware our destinies were now intertwined.


AN: This was just a little something I wrote for my creative writing class. The prompt was: "write about an accident" and well, this came out lol. I'm still learning so constructive criticism is welcomed!