Oh, boy. I love you all. Thank you for the follows, favorites, reviews, PMs, and every other form of appreciation. It means a world to me.


Here, the fourth chapter is all ready for you to read :) even though it proved to be the most difficult one for me to write so far, I hope you'll like it. One thing, though: the song is sang obviously by a man, but try to imagine it with Lucy's voice :) it might be hard, but I had to do it this way. Besides, it's a demo; that's why you may find the song… Weird!

There's some Lucy POV in here. I wanted to zoom her situation to you. Oh, and about the question I asked you last time: since most of you do want the backstory, there will be one!

Now, please, enjoy!


Chapter 4

Did it ever cross your mind?


Faster, faster… It was 6AM and Lucy was already running on empty streets of the town for an hour. She couldn't stand being at home, not with all of the wicked, nagging thoughts on her mind. Goodness, was she cursed, or what? Ever since the reunion meeting the night before, her imprudent brain'd been feeding her with images from her past. Those with all of her friends from there, still in the whole group in particular. The three Strausses, Natsu, Erza, Jellal, Levy, Gajeel, Sherry, – who'd already joined after a few matters with Lucy – Juvia, and… And Gray…

She grunted, speeding up. Not again. Faster! She had to escape. Hadn't she promised herself to finish with that inanity? For God's sake, Lucy reproached, remembering Gray wouldn't change anything. Except for bringing stinging pain and hurtful reminiscences. Faster!

The woman felt her heart beating desperately in her chest, protesting due to lack of air. Ache attacked her sides with prolonging stitch. Her whole body wanted to rest, however, her mentality was encouraging her to go on. Faster, FASTER!

At last, she couldn't take it any longer. Lucy flopped on a nearest bench in a park she was in, panting. A running song on her iPod'd just ended, so she didn't even bother to turn the device off. Besides, she couldn't really move – she was so exhausted…

Maybe it wasn't the best idea to go running without getting any sleep, after all…? Heartfilia took a deep breath and sat straightly on the bench. She took a look around; leafless trees were circling the small park, covered in white crust. It was almost winter, in the end, but even though she was dressed lightly, like normally for running, she didn't feel the cold yet. No wonder, she'd overworked herself. Again…

Lucy took another breath, then froze. Winter… Shit, shit, no! Winter was Gray's favorite season. He loved arctic winds, chilly days, ice-covered things, ice itself… Lalala, think about something else! Nevertheless, she failed. It was too late. On the other hand, it always was.

Thus, her insides recalled his picture: raven dark hair, a smile of a scamp, regular features, onyx eyes… And his low, velvety voice. Oh. Who was she fooling? She missed him badly. Horribly. Almost unbearably. So much that she could give up anything just to meet with him again.

But… What for? He was gone, she'd broken up with him. Due to his actions, of course. And his collaboration with one and only person on Earth that she despised most; even more than him at the moment. However, at the same time, she knew she'd loved him dearly. She really had. But he'd betrayed her, hurt her, both literally and allegorically, then had told her something which could never be forgiven. The truth was that the reasonable part of Lucy didn't want to see him ever again.

And in spite of all those things, things he'd done, he'd said, she still missed him.

What a fool she was. Lucy smiled one of the most miserable smiles, whishing for him to both come back and completely disappear from her world. Her heart twanged, the painful wave caressing her soul in its own way. Her brown eyes watered and she couldn't hold it any longer; waterfalls of tears cascaded through her fingers, wetting the cheeks and hands. It was cold outside, but, at the same time, she was burning on the inside. What a total, entire, reckless, damn fool.


"Hello?"

"L-Loke?" Two hours later, she asked weakly though the phone. Calling Loke was something she was barely ever doing, but it always was about something extremely important. "Can you talk?"

"Luce? Are you crying?" The man asked angrily.

In truth, she was. Ever since she'd returned home, she'd been howling on her sofa, covered in a blanket and holding a mug of hot chocolate. In front of her, at the coffee table, there were several empty boxes of cookies. Yes. Lucy had a bad habit of handling the misery with eating sweets.

"N-no, I'm not…" She sniffed. What a pathetic attempt of negation… "I've just caught a cold, you see… Haven't dressed up properly when I went running."

"But today's your performance…"

"Yeah, and that's why I'm calling you." Lucy hesitated, then asked sheepishly. "Could you sing one song for me? I mean, the demo one you've been playing when we were practicing. Did it ever cross your mind? I'll play the piano, you know… I won't leave you alone. Promise."

On the other side of the line, there was a long pause. The blonde started to worry, feeling even worse than before. After all, she was putting so much on her friend's shoulders. Moreover, she was deliberately using his crush on her – hell, she knew about it, besides, he'd never been hiding with that – to get what she wanted. However, that time, it was pretty tough; the situation was special. One of the Gray's. And even though only Sherry knew about the real setback, everyone'd noticed something was off, too.

"You there?"

"Yeah… Okay, Luce. But. Are you sure you don't need a shoulder to cry on?" Finally, he responded with anxiety.

"I'm sure. And thank you, I owe you one."

"No biggie. Hey, can you do something for me in return, though?"

"W-what is it?"

"I want you to… To smile when we meet up today." She heard him clear his throat and add with a severe tone: "It's just that I haven't seen you like that for a while… Okay?"

"I-I… I will…" Lucy murmured, defeated. She knew that Loke wouldn't be satisfied with what she was about to add, but she couldn't do it. How? How did one smile, having such a mess inside of both her heart and mind? Thus, she wanted to finish her sentence before the man ended the call; still, at the exact moment she heard a click and Loke was gone. Lucy heaved a sigh and muttered: "… Try."


Generally, the time of the performance came all too quickly. Lucy, who'd finally stopped crying and spent a lot of time taking a cold shower, arrived at the café an hour earlier and instantly headed to her dressing room. Due to her wretched mood that day, – and the fact she'd been weeping all the time, so her face was truly phantomlike – she was wearing a baseball cap, hiding half of her countenance from the world. The woman intended to put a heavy makeup on, however, she couldn't so it at home due to leaving all of her stuff in the closet at the café.

Lucy awkwardly gazed around, praying internally not to meet any of her friends. Yet, apparently, Fate had different plans for her since, straightway after crossing the doorstep, she bumped into Sherry Blendy.

"Oh, I'm so sorry, miss…" The waitress stumbled, but regained her composure and smiled. "I haven't…" Suddenly, her cheerful smile faded, her face paled, and the girl squealed. "Oh my gosh, Lucy?!"

"Could you not yell, please? Thanks." The blonde whispered, lowering her head. Please, don't peek under my cap… "Sorry, talk to you later, I must go."

But Sherry was not the one to get rid of so easily. Without any warning, she reached out and grabbed her friend's baseball cap, taking it off before Lucy'd cottoned on what was going on.

"Hey!"

"Dear God." The waitress whispered, covering her mouth. Apparently, Heartfilia was looking even worse than she'd assumed. Sherry's eyes were wandering from her puffy, red eyes, wall pale cheeks, trembling and bitten lips, just to return to her upper facial parts. What was even worse, she said nothing – and usually she had much to say.

"Have you seen enough? Can I have my hat back?" Finally, Lucy asked angrily.

"W-what happened?!"

"The usual." She mumbled, putting the cap back on. "Let me be for a while. I need to cover those… Those…" But she couldn't even name her features.

"I'm.. sorry… Um, well, do you need any assistance? I could–"

"No, thanks. I can put makeup on myself. Maybe that's the only thing I won't fuck up."

The rosehead was standing still, allowing her friend to pass by and get to her room. She was disoriented, scared, and angered at the same time. Undeniably, Lucy'd actually swore. She never did that. Not even after that'd happened! Besides, her sudden breakdown, her devastation was not a good sign. It was terrible, indeed.

Sherry sighed. What could she do for Lucy? Beats her, not much. Unless… Her eyes widened in realization. Maybe… I must talk to Sting.


Meanwhile, Sting, slightly in a better psychical condition than the day before, was going through catalogues of flats and real estate for sale. Well, actually, he had more of forced himself to put aside his problems and shuffle though the catalogue. His friend, Orga, had sent him those in the morning and was kind enough to call the hotel number he was given by Sting the day before when the man would surely browse the offers.

"So, look at page number… Um, seventeen. A nice one, I must say." Orga Nanagear was saying though the phone, instructing Sting and giving him hints on how to manage it all. "See? Not too small and the price's nice…"

"Oh, for fuck's sake, I don't know!" Eucliffe sighed in defeat, furrowing his brows. "You know, man, it sucks that you're so damn far away."

"Well, it's you who ran away." Orga pointed out. "Also, I thought you wanted my help?"

"Sure, but…"

"Hey, listen. How about I refer you to a friend there?"

"You… Know some real possession agent here?" Sting spat. "Why haven't you said anything earlier? It'd spare all the bullshitting…"

"You haven't asked."

Gathering his residue of patience, the blonde asked, closing his eyes. "So? Who is that?"

"Rufus Lohr, he's a great guy. A bit mysterious and, um, damn weird, but he will help you. Ask for him on Crocus Street No3." The other man chuckled. "Oh, and Sting? Don't make me feel ashamed of having you as a friend. Got it?"

"Yeah, yeah."

"So, how're you? Already another butt you're doing?"

"Orga, are you nuts?" Sting felt rage rising inside him. "How could I have anyone when… When…"

"Chill, lover boy. It was a joke to get rid of the tension, but I guess you're still stiff as a ramrod. You should go to some club, have a drink, then maybe have a fun night, and forget…"

"Oh, thanks for the advice. I'm running for it." He commented sarcastically.

"Hmpf. Just wanted to help you." Orga was visibly offended. "Listen, I need to go. Contact Rufus and let me know if you find anything, okay? And maybe you'll be in a better mood or something. See ya."

"Yeah…" Sting grunted, then added silently. "Orga? And I'm sorry…"

"Don't mention it. Bye."

The blond male hung up and closed his eyes, pressing fingers on his temples. He was dumb to blow up at Orga like that, however, Sting had difficulties with keeping his temper in control. Maybe it had something to do with his drastically changing mood, oscillation of spirits, in fact all the ups and downs… He growled, furious at himself. Orga deserved better; and a good apologize from him in particular.

Sting glanced at the catalogue, laying inoffensively at the table. He had to make a decision. He'd already prolonged his stay in that hotel's room, but what kind of life was that? Sting sighed heavily and reached for a watch. Damn. To top it all up, he had to hurry up or he would be late.

What was good for him – and he hadn't even realized that yet – was that, in all that commotion, for some time Eucliffe'd forgotten about her and the sorrow he was feeling. Of course, it hadn't disappeared; but rather was pushed to the back of his mind for several minutes.

And hurry up he did. Although he arrived somewhat later than the day before, he still had a time margin. Without even bothering to find Sherry – who seemed to be absent, what an odd thing – he went straight to his table and sat down, undressing from his coat. Finally, some uniformed guy took his order. Wondering why he couldn't spot the usual waitress, Sting sat comfortably and simply awaited the show.

Yet, after several minutes, Sherry was still nowhere to be seen. The man began to be startled, but, out of sudden, the girl herself slumped on a chair next to him with a troubled face. She partly turned to him and uttered:

"Hi, Sting."

"Hi. What's… wrong?" He asked indifferently, back to his previous apathy.

"It's…" She looked around to make sure no one was listening, then gestured him to come closer. He complied, shrugging. "Lucy. I don't know what to do anymore… She looks terrible. And I've run out of ideas…"

"What's happened to her?" Sting furrowed his brows. Now, when he couldn't spy Sherry, the man'd been rather at unease… But when she'd mentioned Lucy Heartfilia… Did he just feel a little… Disturbed as well? However… Why would he be in the first place?

"I can't tell you that, sorry. But I need you to do something." Sherry gazed at him with seriousness and took a deep breath. "Sting, please, go to her after the performance. Her dressing room is to the left, third door in the second corridor… When you walk through the main one, turn right and there they are. You'll handle it from there."

Eucliffe scowled. What?

"Why?"

"What why?"

"Why should I go?"

The waitress stared at him like he'd lost his mind. "Isn't she your friend?" Silence. "Sting, I beg of you. Actually, maybe the fact she doesn't know you that well'd play into our hands… I have a really good feeling about that… Oh! Anyway, gotta go. But, please, pay her a visit. Promise?"

Sting eyed the rosehead, still obviously unconvinced. She was waiting for his response with anxiety and fidget. At first, he wanted to protest. Why the fuck had she asked him? Didn't he have enough of his own problems to look after Lucy Heartfilia, who, rumor had it, was always encircled by friends and people who loved her? Moreover, something was up; Sherry obviously had more on her mind to that… But, the moment he wanted to refuse, he remembered the singer from the night before; scared, broken, and teary when she'd told him about her true feelings: "In truth, I can't handle anything." It'd moved something within him… Thus, reluctantly, but still, he nodded his head. Sherry smiled faintly at that and disappeared.


In no time after that, the lights went down and two people went out on the stage; Lucy and her guitarist. At once, Sting's sight transferred on her form in attempt to inspect her face, but he realized it was hidden behind her hair and a… Hat? He mused. Was it that bad? Was Sherry right?

The woman raised her hand and shushed the people before she announced in tired, faint voice. She's been crying. Sting realized.

"Thank you all for coming… Again." Lucy sighed and went on. "Tonight, the demo song of mine will be sang by my friend, Loke Celes. He's the one who's playing the guitar. Please, welcome him and enjoy."

"But why?!" Someone from the audience yelled.

"Excuse my temporal… Indisposition." She hesitated. "And enjoy. Loke, show them what you've got."

The ginger man nodded and placed himself in the middle of the stage, adjusting the microphone to his height. Lucy sat behind the piano and hung her head, omitting the usual scouting around. Sting grimaced. Somehow, he didn't like that change one bit.

Loke Celes started to intone with a strange hoarseness, making the sound more of a moan than chanting. It was weird, especially after listening to Lucy's marvelous singing for the past days, but the blonde tried to focus on the lyrics instead of the rather wack voice.

Did it ever cross your mind

Sometimes love is hard to find

And I'm not the one for your weary soul

Did it ever cross your mind

That I have feelings I could never tell about

And I'm dying slow

Eucliffe sighed. Again, the lyrics appeared to be about him. Nonetheless, although he hated to admit it, the song lacked soul. He wanted it to be sang by the woman. By Lucy. For fuck's sake, those were her words. Her feelings. Her own piece of mind. Why would anyone else be singing it? Sting blew a raspberry. That guy, Loke, had no damn idea what he was piping up about.

Apparently, he wasn't the only one who'd noticed that. Lucy budged in her place and in a second reached out for a microphone, which happened to be on a trivet next to her. She cleared her throat, signalizing to Loke that she was co-opting the vocals. The ginger nodded and moved away from the mic. The woman stretched and bent her neck bizarrely, not in a possession of time to actually adjust it comfortably.

Sting flinched when she vocalized the chorus; her voice was completely different from what he remembered… Throaty, hidden. And, once again, terribly sad – although that time, others could pick it up, too.

See, I just spent six black days in the rain

And I don't know if I'll ever be the same

The only one I've loved is gone forever

And I highly doubt that I'll be cured

By your false endeavor

Did she just…? How did she know about others' upcoming attempts to, let's say, fix her? Had Sherry blurted it out? Suddenly, he almost laughed. Come on, the song'd been written a long while ago. Why did he even bother to care?

Nevertheless, Sting knew why he did. He'd been apprehensive ever since he'd learned from Elfman about the specialty of the bar, which was helping others out with their pathetic problems. He was aware of that he hadn't been hiding with his misery, therefore, he probably was the next 'victim' of theirs. It wasn't arduous to guess the cause. What's more, those lyrics had awakened some kind of fidget. His lover was gone; a bunch of queer people'd targeted him as another one to be helped and rescued, like it was some kind of a mission; what kind of sick joke was that? And even if those people wanted to help him, how'd he know if it was even genuine?

Sting growled. At last, why did that girl always have to hammer everything home?

Oh, did ever cross your mind?

Oh, did ever cross your mind?

Lucy obviously had problems with spitting the words out. Her throat was sore and dry, swollen up by the previous bewailing. Fortunately for her, no one could see her face because of the big hat on her head. Thank goodness, seeing as her countenance twinged with every move, she assumed the view would be wretched. And she herself was simply pitiable.

Did it ever cross your mind?

Eight tenths of love is hard to find

But I found it

And I lost it

And I'm screwed

Upon hearing the first two lines, Sting rolled his eyes, too tired of his man-of-constant-sorrow conduct to even react otherwise. However, while the woman was singing the next one – he experienced it like receiving a punch. Another – a clout in his gut. And another – a blow between his legs. Yeah, thanks for the reminder, he thought bitterly.

Did it ever cross your mind

That maybe I ain't all that strong

And possibly I'm more confused

With you

Bitter hurt inundated his whole being when the truth afresh collapsed on his head. Again, the seriousness and the size of the situation terrified him. Then, anger overwhelmed Sting; yes, he wasn't strong. Indeed, he was extremely weak and fragile… Confusion? Fuck yes. But the reason to that was constantly hazy.

See, I just spent six black days in the rain

And I don't know if I'll ever be the same

The only one I've loved is gone forever

And I highly doubt that I'll be cured

By your false endeavor

Oh, did ever cross your mind?

Oh, did ever cross your mind?

With a hoarse whisper, she finished the song. That time thought, she didn't wait for the clapping and abruptly stood up – just to run off the stage. The guitarist gapped after her, apparently shocked, then followed her steps. Nor did Eucliffe applaud with others; under a nagging sight of Sherry Blendy from across the room, he rose to his feet, threw a tip on the table, and moved ahead.

For the first time, the performance did not leave him completely breathless. Of course, there were a few phrases that'd stirred his insides, yet, it wasn't the same. Nothing to overthink at night, nothing to be compelled about… Sting tugged his hands in the pockets and turned right. He couldn't find any explanation to his unsettlement and the feeling of anxiety. The Lucy he'd seen that evening wasn't the same, wasn't as frank as before. Something'd happened and he needed to find out, what that was.

Out of the blue, Sting stopped, furrowing his brows. And why exactly he needed to do that? Shit, was there any rational justification? He squinted his eyes; because he considered her a friend? Because she was making him feel less guilty and terrible than normally? Or because she gave him a shadow of hope? Yeah, that must be it…

The man went on. He reached the second corridor and encountered third door, then grabbed the knob. Yet, he didn't enter due to raised voices he heard from inside. Eucliffe was standing there with a stony face; he shouldn't interrupt them… But he couldn't leave either; Sherry'd have skinned him. Therefore, he returned to his senses only to move behind a nearest hanger with a couple of furs on it and wait for the storm to pass.

"… And I told you not to!"

"Well, sorry that I care! You're not alone here, Lucy! You can't shut me out! Nor anybody else!"

"You have no idea what you're talking about!"

"Then enlighten me!"

A loud sob pierced the air.

"No! No, Loke. I can't. Please, leave me alone."

"Whatever. I've had enough of your stubbornness!"

Abruptly, the door swung open and the furious guitarist stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind himself; due to his providence, Sting remained unnoticed. Celes ran out of the corridor, but the other man still stood there, not able to move. What the fuck…?

Loud crying was heard from inside; it was Lucy. Sting flinched. Her weeping was so heartbreaking, high-pitched, and sorrowful…

Not thinking twice, Eucliffe left his cache, pushed the door and entered the room.

The woman was sitting in front of a mirror, covering her face with her hands and shaking with every sob. Her hair were a mess, moreover, there was not much makeup left on her face, which was completely wet from tears. She truly was representing a horrible sight.

Hesitantly, Sting made a step towards her. Lucy heard a stomp and her head jerked up, turning to him with an angered expression and a shriek:

"Didn't I tell you to…?!" Upon seeing who she was yelling at, she choked. "Oh! U-um, Sting? I-I…"

He didn't say a word. Instead, he was watching Lucy turn red and bite her lip. Damn. She didn't know what to do now; after all, Sting was a witness of such a pitiful scene… What's more, she chewed him out… Heartfilia sniffed and turned her head away, ashamed of her current state. Of her crying. And her yelling. Generally, of herself.

"I'm sorry you see me this way…" They were quiet for a few seconds. "Um… Maybe you should… go… Wait a minute." She narrowed her eyes, but the man couldn't see it. "What are you doing here?"

Sting didn't answer at once. He eyed the blonde in front of him. With slight amusement, he realized that Lucy looked just as bad as he felt. But the amusement disappeared as soon as it'd come. That wasn't good nor funny. Am I turning into a rude ass? Somehow, he didn't want to see her like that.

Finally, he muttered: "I came for you. Get dressed."

"Wh-what?" Lucy twisted her head around and stared at him trough her fingers, covering half of her visage. "I'm sorry, I probably haven't heard right…"

"Get dressed, I'm taking you somewhere." Sting repeated.

That time, Lucy gapped at the man only for a minute before shaking her head and forcing a joyless laugh. "Sting, I really think it's not funny. First off, look at me; in such a state, that's impossible. I don't wanna become known as a spook of the swamp around the town… Besides, we've got a meeting, remember? I invited you as well…"

"Yeah, I remember. But we're still going somewhere else."

"But…"

"You have five minutes to get ready. I'll be just outside." The man apprised her and took his leave.

Lucy gawked at the closed door where he'd just disappeared. What was that about? Why had he come in the first place? She couldn't comprehend it; there was chaos in her mind. Sting Eucliffe definitely hadn't seemed to her that way. What's with being spontaneous out of the blue? And they had an appointment already, why'd he change it?

Yet, after calming down a little, she gave it a second thought and patiently analyzed the situation. During wetting the cotton pad to remove the residue of her makeup, Lucy recalled that that day, Levy and Gajeel were supposed to come. She hadn't seen them for a long while… On the other hand, Sherry'd probably told everyone about her breakdown and, honestly, she didn't want to go through that drama part again. So, was the reunion with her bunch worth getting through the scarring experience of explaining – or, once again: lying – to them? Lucy spat. Lies, lies, lies. Since she's started, it'd become pretty easy to make up new inveracities…

However, she didn't want it. She felt terrible for doing that to her friends, the only people who she had left… On that idea, her eyes teared up again. Oh, what should she do?

Sudden knocking on the door pulled her out of those thoughts. Without earning any kind of response, Sting entered the dressing room again.

"So, you'll make it?"

"Maybe…" Lucy answered in muddy voice.

She heard him sigh. "You won't do it without stopping crying, you know?"

"No, really?" Heartfilia asked sarcastically. "I'm trying, but…"

Abruptly, she stopped. So very slowly, she turned to Sting, who was standing next to her with raised brows. Lucy stared at him in thought. Sarcasm? I used it on him? It'd been a while since she'd allowed herself to make whatsoever joke… Not that it'd changed much, but something within her shifted… Or maybe she was just so tired of constant misery that she'd finally snapped and there was no merit of his? Or was there?

"…ucy? Lucy? Um, Blondie?"

"AH!" She exclaimed, returning to reality. Blood hit her cheeks and created a rosy blush of embarrassment. "I'm so sorry, I've been pondering and…"

"Yeah, I've seen that." Suddenly, he appeared right beside her; literally several centimeters were separating them. At first, she felt an urge to move away, but made herself stay at place, looking at his face in front of hers with wide eyes. "Um. Here. Let me help you. It'll save us some time, I guess."

Sting wasn't sure what'd made him do that, but he came to the woman and sat near, then took the cotton pad and began cleaning her face. Lucy couldn't avert her sight; she was inspecting his features from such a small distance. From time to time, she had to close her eyelids to let him clean them from the mascara and eyeshadows, but it didn't really interrupt her searching for a justification for his actions. Nonetheless, she encountered only a perplexing variety of emotions in different stadiums. First, there were seriousness, tension, and focus. She didn't have to puzzle about that for too long, so she moved to the second group: the woman found a mixture of tenderness and meditation. Was he thinking about something concerning his life, maybe past? Aware of that it was impossible to guess anything on her own, she went on. There, she had a problem with distinction; the last group was hidden almost too deeply to be discovered – at least, for an ordinary mortal. But since Lucy was dealing with those same emotions, she saw sadness, depression, pain, and conflict. He's so hurt… Suddenly, she wanted to cry over that.

And she? Her emotions were raging inside. It wouldn't be any hyperbole to say that Lucy didn't mind dying right there and then. She believed that one more day of that kind, full of crying her heart out with memory-pictures flashing before her eyes, at the same time blocking any possibility of breathing by sticking to her all over, and she'd be done for good. Moreover, she was exhausted. Damn worn out by all this shit…

The singer gazed at the man turning the pad and rubbing her cheek with it. He was wearing a deep frown all of the time, like he was bewildered. In fact, it was a terrible understatement.

Inwardly, Sting was in deep shock because of his abrupt actions. He was helping her like she was a small girl… Abruptly, an image of her little cousin popped out in front of his eyes… No. Snapping out of his musing, Eucliffe tossed away the cotton pad, caught a hair brush and started to comb her hair. Absentmindedly, he noticed that they had a nice tone of blonde, also that they were thick and beautiful. Again, an unwanted picture appeared in his mind. Wendy

"You're practiced in these." Lucy commented to break the silence.

"Yeah."

"From where?"

He rolled his eyes. "I… used to take care of a child."

"A child? Yours?"

"Do I look like a guy with a baby?" Sting frowned again.

"No, sorry, don't get mad…" Lucy lowered her sight and exhaled deeply. "I just… Never mind, you don't have to ans–"

"That girl was a cousin of my… Former… f-friend." He cut in, absentmindedly pulling her hair with more force. A note of tenderness sneaked into his voice, however, he didn't realize it."We were always playing and since she was too small, I had to do her makeup and dress her hair."

"She seems like a nice kid."

"She is."

"I've never had any possibility to play with kids, not even when I myself was one." Lucy confessed, then slammed her hand on her mouth. Anger at herself and melancholy overwhelmed her mind. She shouldn't have said that… Not even Sherry, in fact, no one knew about her true past. Past-the-past. The one she'd been bred in… Noticing that Sting halted with doing her hair, the woman quickly made up a new topic. "Um. Say, what was that about going out?"

"What do you mean?" Fortunately, he let the previous statement slip and renewed his actions, concentrating at the current topic.

"Do you really wanna take me somewhere else?" Lucy turned around to look him in the face.

"I guess." Sting muttered. "Why would I even bother and come here in the first place?"

"… All right." Lucy returned to her previous position and waited patiently for him to finish making a French bride. "I'll go with you."


Ten minutes later, Sting successfully – in other words: without meeting any of her… Alright, their friends – brought the singer outside. They went ahead, not really talking nor knowing where to head.

The man was deep in thought. Truth to be said, he began to be angry at himself for ever agreeing to take Lucy anywhere. To start with, he didn't know the city at all; where was he supposed to take her, to one restaurant which he'd been to, or to the fucking hotel of his? Damn, pathetic… Moreover, he barely freaking knew her; how was he supposed to talk to her? About what? Not that he was socially awkward, but the situation was of two colors: one, lately, he might have lost some of his ability to socialize after what'd happened with her…; next, he could accidentally hit a sensitive nerve and broach some shit... It didn't take much to realize that Lucy'd gotten through something terrible and he didn't fancy the idea of rubbing salt into the wound. What's more, Eucliffe honestly had much to think about. For example, he needed to plan his life all over again. He had to find himself a place to live. He necessitated to find a job. And, lastly, he had got to…

"You must lump it."

Sting shivered and transferred his sight at his companion.

"You need to accept it, whatever it is. There's no other way to move on… Or live on." She said, not even looking at him.

"If that were so fucking easy…" He muttered and averted his gaze.

"Nothing's easy, you know. Not even staying completely silent during a walk with another person."

"I…" The blond man budged, then added quietly. "I'm sorry."

"Don't worry. I mean, we barely know each other." Finally, Lucy looked straight at him. "Tell me, was it Sherry who sent you?"

"How… Um. Yeah."

"I knew it. She wants the best for me, but…" She hesitated, then finished slowly. "But she's never been through what you or I have."

Sting stopped walking, surprised. She mustn't know about it… About anything…

"Okay, that's not the time for this kind of conversation." Suddenly, she agreed with him, apparently reading his silence as a quiet denial to hold that discussion. Later, she looked around. "Sting? Do you know anything in this city?"

"Not really."

"Thought so… Then let me take you somewhere." She offered, earning a nod, and they moved ahead. Silence embraced them once more, but that time, it was Sting who broke it, seeing that they were wandering off the downtown.

"Where are we going?"

"I want to take you in a place where you can think a bit. And show you something."

The man didn't protest. He didn't have any idea where to go anyway. "Okay."

They hadn't talked much till they reached a forest. Sting raised his eyebrows; he had no damn clue there was a forest in there. Lucy eyed him and nodded, leading the way. He was following her, at first along the alley, then they turned left and entered a way through some bushes and smaller trees. After a few minutes, the woman stopped and sighed. The man rolled his eyes, thinking that she was tired and simply panted. Yet, when he joined her, he understood why she sighed.

They were standing at the edge of a clearing. It was pretty charming; small, circled by lush greenery. Lit up only by the moon and stars.

"Welcome to my secret asylum." Lucy told him. "Usually, I take a blanket, a box of matches, or at least a thermos with hot tea, but today's visit is completely random."

Sting murmured something under his nose and looked around; he intended to find a log and put it in the middle of the clearing for them to sit down. Even though they didn't have any materials to kindle a fireplace, it'd be better than sitting on the cold grass. And find a log he did; he brought it to the center and threw on the frozen ground.

"I bet you don't wanna catch a cold." Eucliffe said.

"Thanks." They both sat down and looked up in the sky. The woman commented. "And this is what I wanted to show you. Mesmerizing, isn't it?"

Indeed, the sky was lightened up by millions of stars and looked fantastic. They were so thick that Sting felt like he was under light from reflectors on a stage. However, even the bitter man had to admit that it was beautiful.

"Amazing…" He whispered in awe. "I never knew they could look this way."

"Do you know much about stars?"

"No, nothing."

"Look, then." The singer reached out and pointed to the right; Sting's sight followed her finger as he listened to her. She told him about different constellations, showed him which was which, taught him how to recognize them. He devoured the knowledge, focusing on that. He didn't want to remind himself of that she liked the stars, too. But she could only look at them, nothing more. With no knowledge. Nothing, but empty staring… Abruptly, he wondered whether she'd been planning another tryst with him during those spacing out moments. Before he could even realize, he had tears in his eyes. Shit, I shouldn't have thought about it. Then, he realized that he hadn't been listening to the second part of her lecture. Thus, Sting focused on his companion.

"And that's basically it for this part of the year." Lucy finished.

"You sure like the stars, don't you?"

"Yes. They make me feel like there's something more than hopelessness and loneliness." She shrugged. "At the same time, they're breathtaking, but also intimidating."

Sting didn't ask her about the last statement. Nonetheless, he seemed to get the idea and that was enough for Lucy, who nodded and returned to stargazing. In fact, she appreciated that he didn't try to dig deeper. That he understood – because he did, right? Furthermore, the woman truly was grateful for him taking her out of the café – and away from her overly preoccupied friends under the command of Sherry Blendy. And there she was, with almost a stranger, showing him her secret place and possibly improving her mood.

It was incredible, but she didn't remember when she'd been feeling that fine before; less lonely, with less to be sad about. It appeared that, by accident, Lucy found a new 'ally' in her life. Despite the fact that they didn't know a thing about each other. Even though he didn't really talk during the whole walk and even right then, when they were sitting on the log, admiring the stars. Still, somehow, he made her feel slightly better.

She shivered. Absentmindedly, she rubbed her shoulders with palms like she was trying to warm herself up.

"Aren't you cold?" Out of sudden, Sting asked.

"A bit." Heartfilia admitted shyly.

"Let's go, then." He stood up and helped her up. "Enough for one night, don't you think?"

"Yeah…"

Lucy spared the last look at the sky and led the way out of the forest. The man followed her silently, trusting she knew how to get out; after all, it was totally dark and without knowing the alleys by memory, they'd have never returned home that night.

"I hope you'll get from here to your place. Where do you live, anyway?" The woman glimpsed at him from ahead, listening to his response.

"Um… The hotel." Sting mumbled. "But tomorrow I'll go to a friend of my buddy, who's a real estate agent."

"Oh? Looking for a flat? I know someone as well." Unexpectedly, she stated. "He's the best in this town, really. If you have any problems with your agent, ask for Rufus Lohr. I'd gladly go with you, haven't seen him for ages."

"W-wait! Rufus Lohr?" He asked and saw her nodding. "It's the same guy, I think." Eucliffe frowned. "You know him?"

"Then you don't?" She was visibly surprised. Suddenly, she nodded and pulled out her cell phone. "Okay. Gimme your number. I'll go with you."

"You will go with me?" He repeated, obviously baffled.

"Um, only if you'd like, of course." Lucy muttered, averting her gaze.

"Sure. I'm in need of someone like you, I suppose." He agreed and dictated his phone number. "Send me a SMS, though, no calling yet. I need to turn on my cell first."

"You don't use it?"

"… Not anymore."

She didn't ask. He was grateful for that. "So, let's meet under the café; you know the way there and it's pretty close, so no worries. Is 10AM ok?"

"Great." Sting bobbed his head. "So… See you tomorrow?"

"Right." Lucy looked like she wanted to do something more than just saying one word for goodbye, but she gave up on that and started to walk away. He turned around as well and went in the direction of his hotel – or so he hoped.

In the silence embracing the surroundings, he abruptly heard his name being called behind him, thus, he turned his head and saw Lucy Heartfilia, standing in one place with her hands put around mouth, creating a megaphone.

"Sting!"

He didn't answer, but stopped and turned around, looking at her. Lucy took a big breath and yelled before rushing away.

"Thank you!"

At first, Eucliffe was rather startled, yet, after a second or two, a new emotion, although slight and minimal, pierced through him: gladness. Without even trying, duh, even giving her the cold shoulder during the whole expedition, he somehow managed to help her out from the breakdown… Abruptly, his eyes widened. Holy shit! He was glad. First positive emotion in forever. On second thought, it seemed that her companion did something good for him, too, after all.

He'd have never thought… It'd have never crossed his mind.


And? Thoughts, observations? I'd love to hear from you, of course if you have a moment:)

Actually, I have no idea how it is; in fact, the meeting between them turned out to be such a delicate issue… They can't really be all buddy-buddy, and I'm worried sick that it's too unreal -.- I hope NOT, though :D

Anyway! Thanks for the support :) and see you in two weeks!