I am never drinking again. My head is pounding, my eyes won't focus, and I have no idea where I am. After finally managing to sit up and concentrate on something without any problems, I take in my surroundings fully. Upon first glance, the place looks like my apartment: same layout, same cabinets, even a similar couch. But there is something noticeably off about everything I see. The furniture is in the wrong position; the colors are all wrong, and most apparent, it's way too neat to be my place. I'm not messy, but people can still tell that I actually live in my apartment. This mysterious world looks as if it's a TV set or was just made to look like this to show to possible buyers.

Also, I know for a fact that I don't own a cat. And if I did, I certainly wouldn't dye it blue.

I am staring at said cat, who decided to perch itself on the coffee table in front of me, hoping that it will somehow give me the answers I need — such answers as to where I am, whose apartment is this, and why in Mavis name is it so unnaturally neat. To my disappointment, the cat doesn't seem to understand my stare and instead leaps off the coffee table and heads to the kitchen. Instead of leaving, as a reasonable person would, I try to follow the cat. I find, rather quickly, that standing is a much harder task than I last remember it being. I have to stumble to the wall for support and slowly make my way to where the cat now rests by what I'm assuming is his food bowl.

I feel bad that I don't have anything to give him, but then remember that this isn't my apartment or my cat and therefore not my responsibility. I can't help but feel sorry for the little guy though and bend down to pet it. I reach my hand out as an offering, not entirely sure the proper etiquette for petting felines, and stroke the cat when I think its okay. I'm relieved when he starts purring because I know that that means he won't attack me any time soon. As I'm petting the blue animal, I look around to try and find anything that may give me a hint as to whose apartment I'm in. You'd think it'd be easy, that there'd be pictures or notes or literally anything that hints at a human being living here. There's nothing though, other than some furniture and an empty frame hanging on the wall. There's not even curtains or a rug, making the room almost as empty as Cana's. I almost conclude that this cat owns the place. During my search, my eyes land on the clock.

It's 9:00 at night.

I can't believe I've been out this long. The last time I looked at a clock, it was 10 in the morning. How did I waste my whole day and barely remember most of it? Instead of continuing my hunt for where I am, I move to leave. The sudden thought occurs to me that I was kidnapped and the door is locked. Honestly, that would be more annoying than anything. I don't really have time to deal with some psycho and his eccentric taste in the color of animals.

My annoyance deepens when I find that the door is in fact, locked. This is when the panic sets in. I was only joking to myself about the whole kidnapping ordeal, but if that's actually the case, then I'm genuinely screwed. I could bang on the door; obviously, I'm still in the same apartment building, meaning that someone is bound to hear me. But what if my kidnapper walks in as I start knocking on the door. What if my kidnapper is truly insane?

I mean they have a blue cat for Mavis sake!

The more I look around, the more I'm determined what my situation is. No pictures, no decorations, no sign of someone using this place for living. What else would someone do with an apartment if not live in it? I look, going into the bedroom and the bathroom, hoping for anything that proves me wrong. But every room has the same drab feeling to it. I open the drawers and find male clothing, so I assume that my kidnapper is a male. That prospect alone seems to put me even more on edge. I go back into the living room and pick up the cat. Maybe if I hold is cat hostage he won't hurt me right away. Perhaps I can negotiate my freedom with his cat's freedom.

It's ridiculous, but it's something.

Sitting on the couch, petting the cat of my kidnapper, I try to think of what transpired throughout the day. I remember drinking with Cana, confessing some things I hadn't yet spoken to anyone, and then leaving. Or, at least, I think I left. I would have wanted to go to my apartment, so the only question is, what happened between Cana's home and mine?

I hear laughing outside the door and stand up ready to fight. The door opens, and before I can properly see who enters, I throw the cat at the newcomer. There's a deep grunt as the cat lands on the person's face and a surprised laugh from behind the scene. Is there two of them?

I see hands reach up to try and pry the cat off, but the blue feline is too shocked from being flung like a ragdoll to retract its claws. I freeze in place, not sure how to proceed since two people are blocking my exit. I probably should have thought of a plan sooner and more thoroughly. Eventually, another set of hand reaches from behind the first person to help with the cat situation. With four hands now in the mix, the cat finally comes free, and I see the face of my kidnapper.

I immediately feel guilt like a hand reaching through my stomach and up my throat.

Natsu stares back at me, bewilderment peaking through the fresh scratches now lining his face. Behind him is a woman with hair as white a snow that falls to her waist. She's one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen, and the idea that I've interrupted something that was about to take place suddenly sets in. I hope the embarrassment isn't evident on my face, but I try my best to make the situation less tense than it already is.

"Welcome home." I smile like it's normal for me to be standing in Natsu's apartment pelting cats at him. Natsu doesn't smile back. He just looks at me, the tension in room multiplying with each passing second. I want to say more, but I don't really know how to explain why I just threw a cat at him in his own apartment. He doesn't say anything because I think he's equally as shocked.

So, as we stare at each other in silence, the beautiful girl moves from behind Natsu and starts to walk deeper into the apartment. She stops and turns to Natsu, lifting some bags she was holding up so he can see them. "I'll just put these in your room." She turns to me and as she passes whispers, "Nice throw." She smiles and keeps moving as if nothing was said.

I'm even more in shock as Natsu starts the conversation I'd rather ignore. "Care to explain why you flung my cat at me?" He inclines his head toward the blue fellow now hiding under the couch, and I smile sheepishly.

"In my defense, I thought you were my kidnapper." I raise my hands in an 'I surrender' way as if that explains everything.

Apparently, it explains nothing since he asks, "Why would you think that?"

"Well, you have basically no decorations or pictures."

"What does that have to do with anything?"

"You also have a blue cat."

"Again, what does that have to do with anything?"

"Listen," I try to reason, "I woke up in an almost bare apartment with no memory of what happened, the door was locked, and the only thing here was a cat the color of a primary color. You'd think you were kidnapped if you were in the same situation," I say almost condescendingly as if I'm obviously in the right here. Natsu doesn't respond but stands in the doorway as if taking in my words. He finally shakes his head and sighs as loudly as a disappointed father that found his daughter drinking underage.

I'm about to apologize, but before I can, Natsu raises a hand as if he already knows what I'm about to say. He looks at me, seeming tired, and calmly asks, "Look, don't worry about it, but could you please leave now?"

I feel my body deflate with disappointment in the conversation and myself as I make my way out of his apartment. Before he closes the door on me, I quickly mutter, "I'm sorry for basically attacking you and sorry if I," I nod toward where his room is, "interrupted anything."

Natsu's eyes widen, "What? You mean with Mira? No. That's not... why would you-" He pauses, and at that moment, I see his face grow terribly sad.

In the time that I've known Natsu, I've seen him go through many emotions. Happy, flirty, arrogant, relieved, shocked, and sometimes even disappointed. However, I've never seen sadness as real as what he's expressing now. I've seen him jokingly sad, like when I say something mean, and he pretends to be hurt. But what's in his eyes now is a genuine pang of despair that I don't know he had in him. And I can't help but feel as if I'm the reason behind it.

He just shakes his head, and with that sadness still looming in his eyes murmurs, "You didn't interrupt anything. I'll see you later." He closes the door, leaving me standing in the hallway feeling guilty without understanding why.

Yo happy new years my dudes.

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, I had fun writing a paranoid Lucy.

Anyway, sorry for the wait, but please follow, fav, and review if you liked it!

Thanks for reading :)

XoxoAsh