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Chance 2: The Storyteller and The Dreamer
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4 weeks had passed since their first encounter and Lucy Heartfilla could not stop thinking about him. She was kept, wide awake at night for the first few weeks, hoping and wishing he would be right by her window again with a cheeky little smile to brighten up her mood (because life at a hospital could be so terribly boring). Though, when the hours that were filled with doctor appointments and therapy turned into days, she almost could no longer make room for him— a coincidence or perhaps a stranger in the night, to be in her thoughts.
But she started to wonder at times, was that night even real?
Because why would a man who she didn't know suddenly barge into her room, with a hand that was on fire and was probably intended on killing her (but didn't), and start a conversation with her, and then leave the next? It just didn't make sense. But with her usual headaches and coughing to help occupy her thoughts, she left them aside and finally came to a conclusion that yes, that night did happen. It was far too real not to have.
And Natsu Dragneel, wasn't any better.
Tonight, the night after 4 weeks, just so happened to be one of the many nights where he could not keep her out of his mind. As the moon glistened in the distance, he swooped from roof top to roof top, checking through each chimney and looking at every house in the street for his next client.
His next client, he could tell, was innocent, far from deserving of him. His next client was found inside a house near the riverbanks and there were colours of all shapes and sizes filling in the house. It was the client's family, friends or people who felt pity.
The client, was an 11 year old boy.
Each colour around him was spilling blue and red, mourning and enraged. But why? He thought to himself grimly. The boy was sick, and he had been for quite some time. Each and every single one of them that resided in the room knew he was coming to an end. And yet, they still shed for him after so long. Why weep about someone when you knew from the beginning that you had to let them go?
A certain blonde came into mind.
He shook his head and went back to the task at hand. He crept through the door and into the spacious room. Right in the middle where it glowed the brightest, was a small clump of colour, both green, blue, and… yellow? The boy was happy, yet sad. The family, Death concluded, was definitely weird.
He looked down at the boy and tried to imagine his face. He had brown hair and sharp blue eyes, freckles that splashed against his cheeks and the boy was quite petite for his age. As his hands went down to scoop him up, he couldn't help but to feel a knot at his chest. This boy had so much to live for, so much life, and yet it had all come to this. The bitter thought stained his heart. But when he looked closer at the human, there was a spur of red and pink that boiled up within the boy's stomach and fluttered up against his heart.
The boy was in love.
He looked around the room and saw another human who was a girl, around the same age, was kneeling against where his body was laid on all fours whispering "I'm sorry" over and over again. She was crying. She too, was feeling just about the same emotions as the boy's. The two were childhood lovers, and they weren't for long. In fact, the two probably didn't even know about each other's feelings yet.
Natsu was certain, the boy would've rushed to hug her and kiss her if he had seen her in the state she was in. He was certain, the boy would've wanted to be alive just for her, even if it meant a few minutes.
If only he could.
The boy sat up almost immediately after he touched his arm. His colour drained and it made a messy splash onto the floor. The boy, felt surreal, it was happening too fast, too quick, perhaps he should've given him at least a few more minutes.
As Natsu gently carried him out, the boy was looking around aimlessly for any source of human resemblance because the world to him now, was just a pure white canvas. Unlike many of his clients, the boy did not panic nor did he stir in freight. He was acceptive.
Just like her.
"Is she going to be okay?" The boy had asked.
"I'm sure she will." He replied.
"Do you think she loved me?"
"I think she still does."
Through the darkness in his chest, his beating heart burned bright for the boy. He knew, she definitely still did love him. And he loved her.
If only people believed he had a heart.
The boy was getting heavy.
(-o-)
After her last appointment of the day, she was wheeled out by a nurse named Mirajane, a friendly and well known face in the hospital. But more importantly, she was one of the closest to Lucy out of all the other staff members. They made their way through the dimly lit corridors, waved at a few other nurses and doctors and tried to ignore the sounds of screaming patients— who hopeful would be relocated soon. It was hospital, Mirajane had said, not a mental one.
When they arrived to her room Mirajane made sure everything was in place. All the remotes (the air conditioner, service, TV, etc.) were kept right next to her bed and positioned in a neat straight line, rolled the curtains to cover only half of the window and made sure the bed didn't have any bugs or dust lying around. Obviously, Lucy objected at first finding it far too troublesome to do so and she could've easily done it herself, but after Mirajane had insisted time over time, she reluctantly gave in and decided to let her nurse do what she wanted to do.
"Okay, I've refilled all the shampoo and soap in the bathroom, taken away the garbage and asked the other staff members to help change your bedsheets. The snacks are stored in your bag and I've already taken out the laundry so you don't need to worry about that. Make sure to only take warm baths and—"
"I know, I know." Lucy sighed and quickly pushed her out, "It's been a long day Mirajane. Get some rest. You need it."
Mirajane pouted and frowned, "And you need it too! I can't go to sleep without knowing my patient has listened to my instructions! You," She poked her chest, "In particular! What if something happens? What if you can't remember where the remotes are and you end up walking across the room in the middle of the night and you hurt yoursel-"
"I'm sick, not paralysed." Lucy pointed out with a playful smile, "It's fine. Seriously. Just go!"
"But-"
"Oh come on. Don't you have a sexy doctor to get back to?" She wiggled her eyebrows and nudged her arm suggestively (Her nurse was married to a doctor who worked in the same hospital. His name was Laxus Dreyer). Mirajane flushed with red and slapped Lucy's arm before covering her cheeks with her hands. "Besides I can handle myself perfectly. If I need anything, I'll call you, I promise." She ensured her.
Mirajane looked at Lucy for a while, finding it quite hard to believe. Knowing Lucy, she would rather crawl all the way to reception than bother anyone else who wasn't on shift.
She sighed, "Just don't do anything that'll hurt yourself."
"I promise." Lucy gave a sharp nod.
"Alright, alright. Goodnight princess Lucy." Mirajane laughed and closed the door, "I'll bring my special milkshake tomorrow!" She added across the hallway which woke a few patients.
And with that, the door shut closed and Lucy was left alone.
She then spent the next few minutes getting ready for bed. First, she took a nice warm bath, washed her face and brushed her teeth before changing into a hospital 'night' gown (because they all looked the same anyways), and finally slipped into her bunny slippers and headed out of the bathroom.
With one more light still left in the room, which was a tall lamp that was settled in a corner, she stumbled across to flick the switch. That was when she heard a strange noise. It echoed through the room like a 'thud', an opening… of something and a dark, chilling presence filled in the space.
She was not alone.
"You're hurt."
There, standing behind her and leisurely leaning against the frames of the window was none other than Natsu. He looked the same, he dressed the same, he felt the same. She stood there, frozen in her spot and couldn't make out just the right words as a comeback. If she wasn't as entranced in her daze as she was now, she would've returned a witty reply.
"W-what?" She spluttered out. Really Lucy?
"Your leg." He nodded his head to the said part, "It's wounded."
"I- oh." She looked down at her leg to see that it was in fact not only wounded, but bleeding. She swallowed, wondering when had she gotten that (it was probably from her wheelchair. She got bruises pretty often. The edges were… too sharp). "It's nothing I probably-"
"Do you have a first-aid kit?" He said wasting no time but to rummage through her belongings that were scattered across the room.
She nodded, silently, and looked at him with particular interest as she motioned him towards her shelf.
He was back.
He was finally back.
She wanted to stuff her face back into her pillow and scream. He was real and it definitely, was not just some dream. She wasn't crazy after all.
His fingers circled her arm which caused her to snap back to reality, only to realise he was bringing her to her bed. His heat was making her head swim and her eyes dart to his obnoxious hair that infuriated her to the very brim. He was tall, broad yet a little lanky and his skin was tan. He had dark onyx eyes and muscles that only flashed every now and then.
Everything about him somehow managed to sent out both a masculine and boyish feeling, and for that, it was one of the many reasons where Lucy found herself getting more curious about him.
She'd be lying if she said she didn't find him at least a bit attractive.
"Sit down." He instructed and pressed her shoulders down. She plopped onto the soft sheets of her bed and held her breath as she watched him slowly slip off each sock like it was some kind of delicate, fragile thing. Natsu wordlessly went through the first-aid kid and pushed each useless item to the side. After a moment, he took out a bottle of peroxide, a white cloth and some bandages.
"This might… sting a little." He cautioned her and poured a little of the peroxide onto the cloth and held it merely a few inches away from the wound, "Are you ready?"
She bit her lip and nodded. Slowly, he dabbed the cloth on the wound. She clenched her teeth hard and gripped on the sheets like her life depended on it. It wasn't often she had wounds treated, much less get them. Maybe once every full moon, regardless, she hated pain.
"There. All better." Natsu said as he stopped the pressure and wrapped it with a bandage, "Sorry." He shied her a small, lame smile.
Her heart skipped a beat and she released a breathless laughter, "It's fine."
Compared to their first encounter, the night outside was not foggy but it was clear as day. The city was bustling with activity and the bright yellow lights illuminated their bold features. Between them, formed a thick tension filled with silence and words they could not see. There was a thin wall that separated them and it was only a matter of time when someone breaks it.
"You're back."
A lump was stuck in her throat but she remained calm, cool and tried to not think about the restless nights she had. This was their second encounter and therefore, he was no longer a stranger to her, but perhaps… an acquaintance- no a hero. He did save her— twice, in fact.
Not that she knew he did the first time, anyways.
"I know I am." He finally replied.
"Why?"
"To see you of course." He rolled his eyes as though it was the most obvious thing in the world, "I did say I would come back, didn't I?"
"I-I'm sorry." She quickly said. "I thought you would've forgotten or—" Or? There was nothing else. She didn't even know what he did for a living (hah, living).
"Forgotten?" He snorted. Impossible. "I thought we had some thing special." He exclaimed with mock hurt.
"Oh please." She rolled her eyes. "I barely even know you."
"Well then," He crossed his legs and shifted around so that he was facing her. "I think it's a pretty good time to start. Hit me."
She raised her eyebrow, "What is this? 20 questions?"
"Of sorts." He smirked, "Come on. I'm not a patient person." That was a lie because he was as patient as anyone could get. He had all the time in the world. Literally. Days, years, decades, he had it all. But it was she who didn't.
"Well…" She rubbed her wrists, and started to ponder about her question, "I'd like to know what you've been doing for the past few weeks." Wait, that came out super creepy. It sounded like she was a crazy stalker. Try again Lucy. She flushed and quickly waved her hands in the air, "I-it's okay if you don't tell me! That came out wrong and It was a personal question I-"
"I've been… busy." He replied bitterly. He thought of the boy. He thought of the girl. Then he thought of them both.
"Busy—?"
"Hey, hey. It's my turn." He laughed when he saw her pout, "I'd like to ask the same. What have you been doing for the past few weeks?"
"Me?" Lucy mouthed and grabbed the hem of her night gown. She hadn't been doing much, really. Drinking. Eating. Breathing. Trying her best to stay alive.
"I've been… waiting."
"Waiting for who?"
"An old friend of mine."
"Who is this old friend?"
She flashed him a bittersweet smile, "An old friend who is waiting for the right time to strike my beating heart."
And at that moment, he realised, she was talking about him.
"He sounds like a swell guy." He tried to put as much sarcasm as he could.
She laughed for the hundredth time that day and sighed, "I bet he is."
There was a comfortable silence that surrounded them. Lucy took the time to change her position and tucked one leg beneath her, slowly breathing in the cool air and looked at the quiet streets outside with a thoughtful look. Natsu on the other hand, admired the way the colours shaped her.
"What are you here for?"
She broke from her trance and blinked. "Here for?"
He decided to try again, "What's your… uh… illness called?" The word sounded wrong.
"Oh." Was all she said for a long, deafening moment. Her eyes fluttered close and she inhaled sharply. The pain was still there. Thumping against her ribcage. Reaching. Grabbing. Infecting. She snapped her eyes open to find his dark, hooded eyes staring right back at hers. A new revelation dawned to Lucy: Natsu Dragneel had one of most mesmerising pair of eyes she had ever seen.
"I don't know." She eventually replied and swallowed the lump in her throat.
The doctors never managed to find what was causing her symptoms. It was a case of a few possible illness combined into one, and yet none of them ever finalised the definite result. When she was first told that they not only didn't know what was causing her illness, but the fact that she was also slowly dying, didn't phase her as much as she thought it would. In fact, the only thing she thought at that moment was: Looks like I'm going to miss this world after all.
He didn't say anything else and left it there.
"What are your hobbies?" He asked.
"Nothing much." She shrugged, "There aren't many things that happen in this hospital. Having cable with only 2 channels is probably one of the crazier things that has happened as of late." The corners of her lips curved into a frisky smile.
He crossed his arms and leaned back, he didn't buy it. "You don't look like the type that stays cooped up in her room and enlightens herself with a tv that only shows two channels." He paused and he grinned (the first time in a long time), "You're a dreamer."
For a minute, they stared at each other. Nothing ran through each brain and they lived the moment, a break from everything that had happened to them for the past few weeks. And during that moment, at one point or another, they understood each other.
"And you're a storyteller." She said with a jab at his chest. He was a storyteller. A very good one at that. He was unspoken. Silent. Reserved. But still one at heart. "Tell me a story."
"And what do I get in return?" He mused out, suddenly intrigued on where the conversation was heading.
"You tell me a story and I'll tell you a dream."
It seemed fair enough because he didn't dream— more like he couldn't.
Killers don't dream.
"You won't like my stories." He said with a small frown.
"Why not?"
"They're… different."
"Different is good."
"Sometimes."
"Is this not one of those times?"
"It's not."
"I think it is. Stories— no matter what shape, what size, they're all meant to be told. Your stories are dying to be told."
"My stories… don't have endings." He just didn't know how to make them.
"Then we'll make them together!" She exclaimed and clasped her hands around his and held it up close to their faces, "I don't really know how endings work either, but we'll make it through." She paused and flashed a small smile, "Together."
He didn't doubt her for a second.
He felt a warm heat radiate from his hands and looked down to find their hands were still with one another. He felt the same heat tickle his cheeks and his stomach did somersaults. What was she doing? What did that action mean? He wanted to ask her. But he presumed it was a human action he would never understand. Maybe it was a sign of some agreement?
A sign of friendship?
Before he could say anything, the sounds of bells, church bells, chimed against his ear in whispers. It was yet again, another soul to take. He sighed and stood up, startling Lucy out of her wits as she looked at him blankly, wondering what in the world was he doing. But when she glanced at the clock she then realised just how late it was.
"Well, it looks like someone needs their beauty sleep." He stretched his back and walked towards the window with Lucy trailing along like a lost puppy, "I'll be taking my leave now."
"You're—you're going now?" She said it, twice, the experience had been far too surreal.
His eyebrows furrowed together, unsure of what he was feeling at the moment. A part of him wanted to hold on to her and never let her go. "I am—" And he turned to look at her again. It seemed as though every word had escaped her lips and she was now breathless, with nothing. "—But don't think I'll forget our agreement."
Her eyes lit up, "You won't? You're seriously thinking about it?"
"Yep. We made a deal right? I'm a man of my word." The words rolled off his tongue with more ease than he anticipated. "And honestly, I think we'll make a pretty good team." He winked at her. It was a strange action humans used and he thought he'd try it out.
Never did he expect to crack a grin from her with a… wink? He believed that was what they called it.
"I think so too."
He reached for the window and opened it, while brushing the curtains aside he placed one knee on top and his hands reached to grab the edges for support.
"Will you come back?" She had to ask. And when he did not reply, she figured he got the wrong idea and decided to relieve the tension with spluttering. "I-I can make cookies but they taste horrible so— well we could order out too but— maybe we should just-" She held her breath and sighed, "I'm… going to make cookies. And I was hoping if you could try them out."
He swallowed and let his eyes study her longer than he should've. He desperately, desperately wanted to see how she truly looked and not just some collage of fascinating colours. He was… drawn to her. In a way he himself did not understand.
"I wouldn't miss them for the world." He grinned and with that, he hopped out of the window and disappeared into the brilliance of the night.
She was left to wonder where could she get an oven.
(-o-)
Author's note: annnndddd here's chapter 2! I think I got a little too excited and I didn't really edit this chapter very well. My beta is still on a holiday so corrections will hopefully be made next month ;u;
RansomeNote: Thank you! I was wondering the first chapter was a little odd. I'm horrible with intros D;
BeautifulXwords: I'm glad you do! I'll be trying to update as frequent as I can.
MitchyTheBraveShadowHuntress: Ah, I speak mainly a mix of chinese and cantonese. Currently trying to learn Japanese :D
Thanks for all the reviews, faves, and follows!
