Violet Tears and Devil Food 3

Author Note: I'm glad you guys like this story! ^_^

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Bubbles felt even lousier the next day, if not worse. She wouldn't even get out of bed, leaving her sisters to go to school solo. Around noon, she showered and pulled on a skirt and blue blouse. She was heading to drown out her sorrows with shopping and then going to decorate Bunny's grave, just like every year. The blonde spent hours in that mall before dragging herself to the grave. Tears splattered the frozen ground as she read the stone:

Here lies Bunny Carlie Utiniom.

She was young, admired by all. She will be missed

1995-2001

R. I. P.

For the next hour she decorated it with flowers and all of her favorite things; Stuffed bunnies, her own pictures, chocolate. When the task was done she rose on shaky legs, sitting beside it and resting her rosy cheek on her sister's name. If she held her ear close, it was like they were still connected.

"It's my fault," she whispered, and a voice whispered to her.

"No, it's not," it spoke, and the Blue girl shook her head and held the stone, weeping.

When the rain came down, she didn't move. When her outfit got muddy, she didn't move. When a spider ran across her back, she didn't move. But when somebody's voice that wasn't her sisters' spoke in ear, she jumped.

"You still there?"

When she moved, her forehead met his. Once her vision became not a blurry haze, she blinked in amazement. Through the rain and fog she saw brown eyes, beautiful and gentle, just like Blossom's, and red hair, soaked and sticking to his neck. Most of it was under a backwards red cap, and the visor dripped water down it. He offered his hand to her, and she took it, sighing, not wanting to deal with this guy. Nobody could look that good without being a little devil.

"Thanks," she mumbled, zipping past him. He didn't chase after her and mess up the grave, he just walked to a red pickup and revived up an old engine.

She regretted not bringing a coat or anything. About halfway home she collapsed in a shop, breathing and shivering violently. When she regained her bearings, she realized that she was in backery. It was small but toasty with Spain-style setup. It felt like home, it was so nice.

Finding a trashcan, she undid her pigtails and wrung out her soaking wet hair. Next, she took off her shoes to dry them over the can, biting her lower lip for her skirt and blouse. Suddenly, a bell dinged beside her, and she gasped. The boy who'd she'd met in the graveyard was there in a worker's uniform, looking like he was bored.

"Need a fire?" he inquired, motioning absently to a room.

"Um…sure," she trudged in, and as soon as the warmth hit, she fell asleep.

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When she woke up, she was still alone. She felt warm and secure beside the fire, and she didn't even care her skirt was folding high so her legs could be dry or that her blouse was rode up either. It didn't reveal anything, so so what? Yawning, she sat up, straightened her clothes, and went back to the kitchen, the tile cool on her bare feet.

"Morning," the boy handed her shoes to her without a smug smile or anything, which surprised her.

Taking her little purse from him, she made sure everything was still in there and fixed her hair with a brush. When she was good as new, she smiled weakly and shyly to him.

"Thank you," she told him, meaning it.

"No problem," he offered a hand, "I'm Brick, the chief of this place."

"Brick the Chief," she smiled, accepting it, "and I'm Bubbles…the Guilty One."