Note:
Flashbacks and thoughts in italics
'Thoughts' in the flashbacks are in 'single' inverted commas.
I do not condone or encourage any behaviors in this story. It is simply a fictional story.
"Butterfly Effect"
CHAPTER 4
Shivers
"I'm requesting you to get rid of your clothes, please!" His rationales seem to be riddled someplace between hay and grass. Juvia's eyes scanned him, inspecting if he had beaten his head over a tree on the route. Murmuring something under her breath that Loke failed to catch, her grip on her robe only tautened. Sure, her hypothesis is off the wall, but the facts support it.
"Besides why are you telling me to do something that you have not done yet!"
"For your kind understanding, I'm supposedly a high-end spirit who shouldn't catch a cold from a few hours in the pool." He tilted his head, hissing close to the swell of her cheeks.
"I said I'm a water mage." She stood her ground. Why can't he just understand?
"You're a water mage and a human. I don't want to carry a feverish person on my back."
"Is that it? Put me down, will you? My feet are okay." Taking advantage of his distraction, she shimmies from up his waist, down his hips to the ground. He gasped in a breath, for her arms on him felt a tad bit ticklish. Juvia could've swapped into her water form, but that would mean drenching Loke in water, which she didn't want. It sounded very rude of her to soak him sick after these peaceful moments of benign affability he gave her. But before she has the time to catch her footing, he lifts her back onto his shoulders by the back of her thighs, like a sack of fresh potatoes.
"Holy Mavis, can you stop being stubborn for once, Juvia—Your clothes are wet—" That doesn't stop her from wiggling to try to free herself, which strangely makes his arms itch to slap her perky butt. Just to hold her still?
"Pervert." At this point, Loke has no qualms about the sexual tension that has smeared the silences amidst their words.
"Oh. Oh. I promise I won't sneak a look while you change."
"After that?"
"Reminds me of a column in Philtre Fair: Naked is Natural, 21 reasons why you shouldn't cover your butt in the—Ouch." Loke hunched as he felt something jab his ribs. Juvia's elbow. Well celebrated. He huffed in amusement.
They plodded a bit more with the course of Loke's light. They were running out of steam, dog tired. In vain, Juvia longed for the things severely out of stock in her current predicament.
But boy, was she lucky—was he lucky!
They had outright come across something that shouldn't be there before their eyes. Well, if it isn't a strangler fig! Whom, true to its name bore the hullabaloo of burrowing roots, a frenzied snoozling of fossil grey epidermis. But this wasn't specifically that "something" that shouldn't be there. "Holy mackerel!" Loke cleared his throat, advancing to the object of their curiosity as if it were a footslog.
Four furls of roots worming downwards via the branches have freakishly molded together to form a stupendous, stuffy square suspended in the air. If that wasn't off the wall enough, there's another generous offer: on top of the damn square of living wood, a bed. A hanging bed. A king-sized bed. "Well. That's the weirdest bed I've ever seen. Is this some reality television show?" Juvia voiced out. Loke might've felt it too. It's not just me. But, Juvia can't help feeling especially skeptical about all this. She wanted to add.
"Can't be. But if this is one. That channel is going to shut down soon for gaming with the lives of unsuspecting civilians. Even so, I can't sense any magic enchantments here." Loke replied as he threw a large stone over the bed, checking his assumptions. "Why don't we settle here for tonight. I'm sure you weren't able to get any proper rest until now." The bed covers were a satiny carnation pink, soft like the flower itself, and the white, frilled pillows, inviting, giving her the vibes the forbidden fruit must have given Adam before he took a bite, as though this was some illegal pleasure they shouldn't be indulging in. Juvia wanted to trust the logic in his assertion and the offer is too tempting for both of them to ignore.
"Neither did you. Better than having stones digging into my back when I get up, at least." Obviously, nobody was there to warn them of the inclement weather. But their predicament granted Loke some heat. Well, a different kind of heat. Little did he know, the flames of the night's hearth had only just ignited, just getting started. "Put me down."
Every tissue in her body ached from fatigue. Her head pounded, maybe because of it, or maybe the yelling opera that had ceased a few hours ago. Not giving it a second thought, he sat her gently on a cottony soft pillow before throwing himself with a thud, onto their newly discovered strangely-safe-Harbor. The bed creaked and juddered in the bump. "Juvia has a question." Juvia pulled the pillow from under her the small of her back to slip it beneath her head.
Staring blankly into the canopied sky, at the moonlight breaking through the leaves, Loke murmured. "Mhmm."
"The question: is sleeping under a tree at night fatal? sounds like an overstatement. Right or Wrong?"
"Well. What's with you coming up with a Yes/No MCQ in the middle of the night. Anyways. To answer your question, I do remember someone saying that it's not just an overstatement, that it's nonsense, an urban myth."
"Lucy-san?"
"Wrong. It was Porlyusica."
"Hmm... Hah. I see."
Seeing it was better not to wet the bed, they had to get back up and quick. Loke proposed an idea for which he got a whack on the back of his head from Juvia. The idea was a good one. But he was labeled an idiot for suggesting it only now. Ah. He can't blame her on this one.
His bad decision-making. It's a wonder how Juvia doesn't even seem to be having a fever.
A sputtering light powdered a tan of bister on their cheeks and licked their clothes dry. A campfire. Loke knew he could've done this sooner. He was so jarred at himself, having been caught up in a hassle that even his cognition was thrown out of gear!
.
