Chapter 2: Piled Misunderstandings
A/N : I'm really, really sorry for updating so late. I edited this numerous time but it just never seem right, so I left it for a while. Fortunately, I got my inspiration back again since there are some who bugged me to update, and it made me sort of happy to realize that there are readers who actually wait for this story, so thank you very much for that X)
Big thanks to all of you who have alerted, faved, and reviewed too, as always~
Replies to anon :
YOURslave : lol. I'm glad you like it. Thank you for the kind review, you made my day! :D
Chapter 2 : Piled Misunderstandings
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.Lucy.
"Ouch!"
Tiny nerves bulged and stiffened under the worn-out set of baggy jeans as my left knee contacted against the fence's untangled wire. It stung, as if a lit matchstick had grazed across it in a fair diagonal pattern. Contemplating how it'd leave a huge, horrible red mark, I cringed, barely aware of the fact that I had climbed and hopped over the said metal fence and had arrived on the other side safely, putting the scratch and (more) damage to my pants aside, that is.
"What in Fiore...," I murmured between my raging breaths, the remains of adrenaline pushed my legs to paddle a bit faster, while my vision were solely concentrated on the retreating form of a man in black to my front, "...is that foxy thief trying to do?"
It was a rhetorical question, really. For I had figured out the 'what' and 'why' things were the way they were, yet still idiotically, stupidly (and whatever associated to 'dumbass') had followed him nevertheless.
Long story short, this had been the fifth alley I had found myself stumbling into, the third fence I had hastily jumped over, currently the sixth bush I had bulled in through (sorry, Mr. Bush) and the list of troublesome hurdles went on and on and on...
Of course it was all in my disadvantage, since I wasn't any more familiar with Magnolia than a kitten inside a dark, dirty sack. Me losing track of him was the main idea, got me troubled was his glee, and having me to troll with was obviously a plus point. Probably though, he, like every other cocky man, just had a discriminative assumption that I'd be skimpy enough to be defeated by those hurdles...
It was clear that he had underestimated me.
Let's just say that I had quite an experience in athletic hurdles by infiltrating out of the mansion in occasions. So everything in the same pace as escaping through the third floor's window sills, straying from unsuspecting guards, and climbing up a tall tree in order to get back to my room, were all pretty much my customary side hobbies.
"Come on, Lucy! You can do it!"A boy's voice sprung onto the brink of my mind, loud and echoingly clear; his pitch was still childishly shrill, sugar-coated with innocent warmth, an unhidden ecstasy dripping in its very core.
Oh yeah,the bitter-sweet nostalgia of my childhood looped a tiny smile on my lips. An attendance of a cheery spectator and a fellow 'adventurer' were the things missing if I were to recall those semi-dull memories of me being stuck in that horrid of a house. The gentle taps on my windows were the only sounds I had ever longed for, when my every pit of depression was proved pointless by just sitting side by side under the bazillion dots of star, knees touching sheepishly, silent laughter filled every single night like we were the last kids alive on earth. He'd tell me how to sip a honeysuckle without ruining its petals, and would stuff me with a bunch of information in which part of the mansion had a loose shift of guards, which jutting bricks was safe enough to climb on...
It had been the first time I thought of something as fun, ever since my once-perfect life had turned upside down.
But it was true that you had to hold on tight to what you had already had a grip on, for it could be slipping through your fingers before you were even aware of it. It started with his absence on one night, then it rolled into another, the night after it, the day after next...there was no more hitting of little knuckles against glass, none, not ever.
A grunt escaped my throat in seconds, and I mentally scolded myself for yet again, drowning myself in the past. What was the point on brooding in those that couldn't be changed? The purpose of me coming here was to leave all of them behind and started everything anew, wasn't it?
Nails dug deeper into my palm, a chuckle escaped my throat, bitter, dipped in full irony and sarcasm. Great, now I sound like a newly released criminal who is trying to atone her sin.
Every other thought was caught hanging in my head and my nose noticeably relaxed on the change of air; the damp, disgusting scent of the alley had switched into the original smell of the city and the temporarily non-existent sun rays had welcomed my skin once again.
I sucked in the whole new smell and took in the scenery around my reachable radius, pretty much relieved that I was no longer in a dark, dump alley of a place. I swore my nostrils would shrink themselves on the dampness of the ever so needed oxygen.
This street the thief had led me was unexpected though. Sure, it was another open path with less population residing within it like every other safe path he had chosen. Yet, this one I observed was a tad different; the buildings mostly stood far-fetched from each other and those gaps were enclosed with secluded field of trees and greeneries. A few metres to the front stood a gate, large letters of "You're now leaving Magnolia" imprinted on its wooden plate positioned on its very top.
The coward was intending to leave the city.
That fact downed a big too-late realization on me, like I was dropped with a ton of bricks. Was I really going to chase after him forever? As in following him to another town? Why didn't I call the police in the first place anywa- oh yeah I didn't have any cell phone with me, not to mention I should have asked someone for a public phone in the very first place.
A palm met my ceased forehead, massaging it in annoyance. How unbearably stupid of me, getting my mind so fatally irrational. I figured that I was getting too influenced with both the woman's and thief's franticness, and it overwhelmed all of my rational logic. I still hadn't learnt do differentiate the mixed up feelings of my own and the others, it seemed.
As if sensing my self-cursing mode, the man turned his head towards me for a millisecond, providing me time to digest his appearance ; unshaved square-shaped chin edged by tough cheeks line, double studded earrings on one of his ears adding a sense of hostility, and strands of brown jutting out of his black hat messily, shadowing the strange glints carved in his coaly orbs; a cross between victory, a hint of relief, and fear. Nevertheless, a knowing smirk of mischief donned his lips, acknowledging that I had almost ran out of stamina and practically was screwed.
My brain ran faster than my feet, and before I knew it I had released one strap of my backpack, turned it against my chest, and frantically rummaged through it.
Snacks? No. Ipod? Nono. Pens? You must be kidding me. Plue's blankie? ...What is it doing in my bag again?
When I was about to think that my rummaging effort would be in vain, my hasty fingers brushed against something hard-textured and edgy, and a familiar smell of papery greeted my nose as the object's pages began to flap in response to the wind. Realizing what object I was referring to, hesitance jerked my touch on it for merely a second or so, my mind debating on what I should do. But with it being the toughest and most plausible weapon for the function present all my doubts evaporated away.
I closed one of my eyes almost painfully out of habit, before snapping it open and swiftly threw the said object to my front.
A satisfying 'thud' was heard as soon as the hard-covered book (hopefully) hit the light out of the man on the head, followed by a rough 'thump' of his fall, my Godly 'weapon' hitting the ground, and the stolen hand bag thrown near it.
I had never felt so accomplished in my whole life of fourteen years.
Huffing slightly, I approached the two objects (scratch the thief) in sight and crouched down to take them. My bookworm's instinct quickly felt the grazed book with my fingers in mixed relief and irritation ; it was only scratched on the cover but hardly noticeable, though the contents fortunately remained safe. I put it back inside my bag, zipping it noisily and stood up with the stolen leather bag in my arms.
The latter was interrupted with a strong grip circling my wrist. I emitted a surprised squeak and made the wrong move of staring right into the thief's eyes. Hatred, dark, dark animosity swimming within its shadowed irises.
"Hand me," he whiffed with tiny difficulties, orbs glinting, hand rubbing the back of his head in fury, "The bag!"
I was thrown downwards onto the street, leather bag hugged against my chest so tight as if my life depended on it, and the last thing I knew, my glasses had fallen on the stony path with a click.
.Gray.
What the hell was I doing?
That question remained ringing on every step I took and though I had only understood a half of the whole predicament, I went with all of it anyway; strange, true, yet definitely and undeniably pointless.
I slowed down, sterilized my fastening huff and ran a palm throughout my raven locks, a thing that somehow had became a habit when everything just seemed so murky. Stripping was a way different matter of course, since I did it almost every time without even thinking.
To recap this whole thingy : I was chasing after a boy which I assumed to be a thief, I lost sight of him in one alley, he reappeared, I lost sight of him again, then somehow magically he just popped out in the corner, and now I lost him again. That cycle had repeated about two times already.
Seriously, was he some sort of ninja?
That flame head (aka ninja wanna-be) really had to learn from him if he was. That way, he would perfectly understand that a ninja didn't say 'nin-nin' like some sort of code language and obviously did not encircle a white muffler around his face to cover his identity.
I sighed in exasperation and skidded my feet to a stop, rotating my vision throughout the location and once again discovering the absence of blond.
I didn't even know why I was doing this; intrigued, interested or whatever feelings I had come in contact before had been long gone after this tiring chase. Probably dropping this issue would be much better, since it had got nothing to do with me in the first place anyway.
I scratched the back of my neck, though it wasn't itchy at all, feeling more exhausted all of a sudden, "Right, I should probably drop—"
An indignant yell sliced so sharp into the air and I abruptly paused from turning back to where I had come from. My ears perked up at the voice and my feet automatically followed the source which so happened to be nearby. Two figure stood up in the distance; the blond who I supposed was my target and an unknown brunette.
"Huh?" I murmured, blinking in confusion, "It's the city's gate already?"
"You insolent little brat!" The brunette which I assumed was an older male screamed at the fallen blond, who was crouched on the street, clutching a brown bag so tight. The tone of the man wasn't one I might call buddy-buddy.
"Insolent? You are the one who stole if I recall," The blond replied calmly and I almost gaped for a bit. How could he manage that monotone voice of his when it was like the intimidating man would rip off his head in any second?
"Back off and don't try to be a goody two shoes!" The man spat back, hands gripping the boy's upper arms in such bone-cracking kind of intensity.
"I am not," came the another almost nonchalant response, "I'm just returning what does not belong to you in the first place."
I halted my motion on sneakily approaching them when I heard that sentence, my eyes widening in disbelief.
He wasn't the thief? Wait wait, I was obviously lost.
"It's none of your business!" The built man snatched the bag harshly, but the boy wasn't giving in, until something shiny flashed in the corner of my periphery, silver and metallic, like a knife.
My heart lowered to my diaphragm, my respiration ascended to such speed when I realized the extreme ugliness of the situation. I acted on pure instinct; legs knelt behind one of the nearby bushes, hand rummaging through my pocket in search of my phone. Once it was out, I grinned deviously; seemed like Natsu's prank tool could be of a good use after all.
.Lucy.
I toppled back on my butt, twice if I must count. This was getting tiring, even hitting the hard bag onto the thief's nose wasn't helping. To summarize them, violence and stubbornness wouldn't work, since the thief topped in both factors, though I could notice that impatience had grabbed hold of him as well. Beads of cold sweat trailed along my cheeks, and my arms and legs had turn into weak jellies, yet my grip still wouldn't surrender, which I was glad for. Desperation had fully controlled me since I didn't know any official form of self-defence, besides kicking the groin and punching blindly (if you could call those official). Yet, I knew letting go was futile, because surely the man would flee as soon as I did, with the bag that is.
It was when the man took out a small dagger from his pants that I assumed things were at its worst. My pupils dilated and my guts churned in a horrible roller-coaster turn, cold ran down my spines in seconds. But before I could digest everything else, or even sense the slight hesitance of the man, a resonant siren blew.
A police siren.
To say that I was relieved was an understatement.
A sound of a closing car followed and I swore if it wasn't for my situation, I would have laughed at the hilarious expression the man presented; his eyes had grown as wide as a sauce pan, mouth gapping like a dehydrated fish and arms quivering in fear. Emotion after emotion flashed through his dark orbs before he pushed me backwards with a thud, my butt met the street once again, surprisingly forgetting the object he had stolen in my arms. He quickly headed to the gate without looking back, but not before taunting, "He's the one who stole it!"
Not only foxy, he was also putting the entire burden on me. What a fantastic human being. And wait...did he just say 'he'?
"Stop right there!" Two policemen with guns in hand strolled to where the man had gone and soon disappeared to who-knows-where.
"Hands up!"
I jumped at the sound of that strict voice and had almost (almost I told you) really held up my hand if I hadn't heard of a couple of blurry gunshots, an abrupt pause afterwards, and a too-cool-for-school styled "mission accomplished" bared in a comical husky tone before all went silent and still, like a broken CD player.
When the nearby shrub rustled, I felt like I got the idea.
"Hey," I called out to the bush which somehow flinched, "Come out whoever you are."
There were a few moments of awkward quiescence, before a from popped out of it with a livelier swish, revealing a... half-naked teen about my age, with a phone secured between his fingers. I wasn't kidding when I said he was half-naked, because he was indeed topless, with only a pair black torn jeans in tact. His expression was indescribable. It was clear that embarrassment and relief were emitted form him, but he tried covering it with a mask of indifference, which I knew was failing miserably because the red on his cheeks and the constant fiddling of his hands were totally giving away.
The second silence hung rather thickly, before I voiced out the first thing on my mind.
"Are you a runaway exhibitionist?"
...
"W-what?"
Some encounters are unfathomable.
A/N : I am aware that Lucy is OOC, but I intended for it to be that way, and Gray indeed referred to Lucy as 'he' because of well...read on :) sorry, it's a bit short and not informative enough, but I just have to put a cliffy there and dump all the information on the next chappy :p
~snowdrop03
Last edited : December 6, 2012
