This is what boredom does to you. Anyways, read along, and I hope, enjoy this last-minute story. This is a warning to you: it's bare. But if you insist, read on. (Such a pessimist I am.)

Osmium

( )

"What's this romantic 'sheesh' stuff?" Natsu asked, his nose sniffing the paperback resting on Lucy's bedside table. He flipped through the pages and kept raising his eyebrows in mystery.

Lucy sighed in exasperation and quickly snatched the paperback, her cheeks gaining a reddish tint. "For Kami-sama's sake, Natsu, it's a book. A love story, that is."

"About us?" countered Natsu, as he saw his name written in cursive. "We're best friends, Luce, not a smooching pair of Romeo and Juliet reincarnations."

"I just felt like I had to write a love story about us," Lucy said, avoiding Natsu's earnest stare into her bashful eyes. Natsu laughed under his breath and shook the thought away, ruffling Lucy's hair instead. He stood up and leaned against the wooden door, grinning like the dense idiot he was. "You do know that it's never going to happen in real life, don't you?"

Lucy smiled weakly, resisting the urge to break her pencil into two. Her heart fluttered nervously. Just by hearing Natsu's words, all hopes of him being in love with her, too, vanished into thin air.

"Yeah," she whispered quite hesitantly, but too softly for him to hear. "But I'm still hoping that it will."

( )

The gravel behind her back seemed to add to her writhing agony- the flesh in Lucy's back bled, and her eyesight blurred from the occurring mission. She tried to get up by holding firm to the ground, but she only slipped and lay flat, desperately helpless.

Her opponent towered over her while pointing a spear to her dry throat. He croaked, "It's a pity I just have to kill a girl who might be of use to me."

Lucy laughed with her remaining strength, hoping that Natsu would just swoop down from nowhere and take her home to where she truly belonged. She was waiting for his deep, mad voice that would drive the evil away. She was waiting, waiting, waiting…

And he never came.

The gash near her shoulders throbbed painfully, and as she watched her assailant go farther, she cried Natsu's name out, still holding on to the faith that he would never forget her, that he would never leave her hurt. A few more hours- Lucy was concluding that she was going to die from loss of blood and was closing her eyes, no matter how afraid she was that she might just slip away.

The sound of footsteps. It was, unmistakably, him.

She felt his arms scooping her from the earth. He was silent, yet his breathing was labored, almost as if he fought his tears from falling, as if he had come from looking for her but arrived at an awful sight.

Lucy was not yet dead, but why did she feel like she was? Natsu seemed hollow, and he could just say, "I'm sorry..Luce."

She would nod for his sake even if doing so was a burden. "I..It's okay. Thank you."

"Don't worry, we're nakama, anyways," Natsu said blankly, trying to figure out if he was harsh or not. Of course he was. Lucy turned away and knew that statement for a long time now. It resounded in her conscience, tempered her feelings, and let her face reality. For her, it wasn't that much of a surprise anymore.

But she was glad she was safe in his arms in the meantime.

( )

Lucy was stunned as she kept staring at the ceiling. She was condemned to the confines of the infirmary, perhaps never getting up again from her isolated cot. As she estimated, she had lost a lot of blood, and not to mention, her magic. She couldn't move that much except for tossing and turning.

Of course, Natsu watched over her, feeding her porridge, telling her tales of his adventures in the outside world, about the guild. Lucy was already mute- she consumed all her magic and human abilities that she had gained a lifetime of paralysis. When she would laugh at Natsu's hilarious scenarios with Happy, nothing came out, but a small smile.

At night, Natsu would curse everyone. Why had they brought a living hell upon Lucy? Why her? She was eighteen- a young, excellent mage who had a tender heart and wanted to tell stories to the world. She never deserved this kind of tragedy.

Natsu entered the infirmary, his hand tightly rolled into a fist. Lucy was there, still lying down and pondering on her future. She smiled weakly upon Natsu's return. He tried to smile back with the best he could, and he saw her pointing to a manuscript.

He saw that book before, didn't he?

Natsu picked it up, and got the message that she wanted him to read it. As he settled on the mahogany rocking chair, he touched the pages. He had never been immersed into books before, never- but if it was for Lucy, he'd be glad to do so.

He read, the first ten words, fifty, two hundred, thousands, and then he reached the last page. It was, indeed, the same book from years ago, the one about their supposed love story, to which he argued that they were just best friends and nothing more. Something tugged at his heart- no, not just tugged. His heart shattered, and his pain was coming in the form of tears. The last part had broken him the most.

Lucy put down the romance novel and sighed, knowing that the love story she had just made up for herself and Natsu was supposed to remain in fiction- yes, their love story. But not her love for him. It had always been real, and will always be.

Too bad he never felt the same way.

Was he that dense? He didn't dare rub his already bloodshot eyes, and instead put down the book and looked at Lucy. She was smiling in her sleep, her hands crossed over her abdomen. It didn't rise nor fall.

She wasn't breathing.

Natsu stared- and after a second, he started screaming, shaking her, waking her up. His moans became louder, and he knew that even if he kept on raising his voice, she wouldn't budge. Not now.

Was he that dense? He only realized it after she had shut her eyes permanently. Or was it that he just won't admit it to himself because he was too preoccupied with having that perfect best friend image?

Natsu couldn't do anything now but feel weighed down. He sunk into his remorse and became denser-curling up into his own solitary ball and feeling heavier.

He was right, after all. Their love story was never going to happen in real life.

But he couldn't let go of the book now. Not now, not even after he realized that it was now useless to keep it. It was the only thing he had left of her.

Was he that dense?...

Deep inside he knew.

Of course he was.