A/N: Sorry it's been so long! Writer's block'll kill ya. And thanx for all the reviewS! (see the nice big shiny S? yay!) Here we go again---
Disclaimer: I DON'T OWNI DON'T OWNI DON'T OWNI DON'T OWN
Hornet fidgeted in the blankets and lumpy mattress that made up her bed. It was a good deal better then sleeping on the streets, but something kept her awake. After changing positions for the hundredth time, Hornet realized what was bothering her. Her book! She had left by the bridge in all the excitement. She had to get it.
Rising slowly, Hornet crept past the still forms of Riccio and Mosca. Maybe that was what was keeping her awake as well. They snored horribly. Mosca's was low and droning, where Riccio made an odd sort of squeaking noise. Scipio didn't sleep at the Stella. Hornet found that odd, but didn't question the benefactor of her new home. Or, at least, the current roof over her head. Hornet, thrice as wary after her poor examples of home, was not sure whether to stay or not. The boys were nice… very nice… she thought dreamily of Scipio before shoving that thought away. And after that episode with the drunken men, it would be awhile before she was brave enough to live on her own again.
But that was irrelevant. For the moment, all she needed to do was get the book back. She could figure out the rest later.
Opening the side door a crack, Hornet slipped out and hurried down the street. It was dark, the moon and stars couldn't pierce the angry clouds above. She tried to follow the twisting trail Skip led her through, but soon she was completely lost.
Wandering through the predawn fog, she growled her frustration. Why hadn't she simply waited for Skip to take her back? Hornet paused. Because she couldn't. That book was her only possession, it took her away from terribly real life to a place where true love existed and the bad guy always lost. Morals were black and white, and families loved each other. Father's loved their daughters and didn't…
Hornet furiously shook her head till her long hair whipped her face, a stinging reminder of the here and now. It was over. She had plenty to deal with without reminiscing.
Glancing around, Hornet found herself in the piazza. She had been there only yesterday, running from the vendor.
She ducked into the ally she had earlier, vaguely remembering landmarks as she made her way along. Left, right, dead end! Backtrack, left, straaaaaaaaaaight, right, there!
Hornet rushed across the bridge to the nook she had slept in. Compared to the mattress she had at the Stella, the hide away looked rocky and uncomfortable. Good thing I'm not staying here! she thought happily.
Scrambling around, Hornet searched for her book. There, lying forgotten in the very corner was the book, 'The Little Mermaid' title gleaming. She grinned, that had been close.
For comfort, she hugged it to her chest, inhaling the faint bookish smell of the pages. Assured that it was alright and ready to go back, Hornet carefully pocketed the book and stood.
Fate must have not been all that fond of her at that moment, because a fat cold rain drop landed square on her nose. Groaning, Hornet let her head fall backward as the sky opened up. After a moment of cursing said Fate, she ducked her head and ran back down the street, her bare feet slapping the wet pavement.
The rain was steady and hard, and in minutes Hornet was soaked. Panicking, she snatched the book out of the damp pocket and clutched it tightly to her stomach, bending forward so her body blocked the rain.
After several guessed turns and dead ends, Hornet stopped, panting. It was no use. Not only did she have no idea where she was, she couldn't see where she was going either. Wet bangs stuck against her forehead, her clothes were soaked through and heavy, and her skin pruned and goose-bumped from cold. Hornet shivered then looked at the book. It too was wet, and to her horror, ink as well as water began falling from it.
"No! No, please, no!" She watched in misery as the gleaming gold title began to run, swirling into the blurring picture of the mermaid. It was too late. The words -words that she had read over and over till her eyes burned- blurred, came together and formed rivers across the page. Sobbing, Hornet fell to her knees, then curled into herself, the inking running freely into her lap and on her hands. It was gone. Her source of comfort, her only escape from the world, was running off the street and into the gutter. Hornet cried for a long time, tears mixing with the steady rain, feeling a loneliness she never had felt before.
A/N: I wanted it to be dramatic, but I'm afraid it might've fallen flat. What d'ya think? And I'll try to get the next out quicker. R&R (hint try pressing the blue button next to the 'submit review' --funny stuff!)
