"Luce?"
Whatever spell I've been under is broken with the questioning tone of Natsu's voice. I feel conflicted, drawn between running into his arms, and wanting to fade back into the pleasant memory. But instead I let a mask fall in place.
With a tight, pathetic smile I meet his eyes.
I watch his brows slowly rise and then furrow. Rethinking whatever it is he wants to say; his lips eventually draw into a firm line. When he takes a step towards me my mask falters. Heart pounding in my chest, I attempt to move further away, only to trip over an uneven patch of stone and fall.
Time seems to have stopped and, to my embarrassment, I don't notice I'm staring at his hand until he extends it out to me.
"Don't!" I gasp. The hand freezes mere inches from my own.
"Why?" Natsu asks; the word tumbles out awkwardly and I can tell he's now unsure of himself.
Because I can't pretend everything's okay if you try and help me now. I will myself to somehow convey these words to him but my mouth is a trembling mess. Without thinking my gaze focuses back on that hand; still hovering above my wrist and I'm struck by how well I know it. Strong I think. I'm only paying attention to the one, but without looking I know the other is just as rough and calloused; covered in faint scars from all of our battles.
Sensing the rising tension, Natsu straights up. "Let's go to yours" he resolves, seeming more unnerved when I wordlessly agree.
I only become aware of the clear change in his attitude after we begin to make our way to my apartment.
Part of me expected he'd come running back; eager to continue where we left off, gleefully oblivious to having left for so long in the first place. But no one can predict the future accurately. No. Rather than his cheerful, fired up self, Natsu appears harder. The fire in his once bottomless eyes have become nothing more than an eerie glow.