Lucy went home.
It was an ill-fitting ending to a first day - and a first crush - but it was what it was. God, was she tired. Simply aching for her headphones and a can of Sprite.
Okay, so she didn't have much of a life after school. So what? Levy was busy, her mom was out. Creative writing class was canceled, since the teacher had eloped with a college freshman and moved to Maui.
Outside beckoned. Huge, gorgeous blue skies. Puffy little cartoon clouds; her head pounded like a heartbeat.
Some exercise never killed anyone, right?
Lucy put on her running shoes and hit the road.
Okay, so some explaining is called for, because obviously weirdos aren't athletic. And Lucy wasn't...very. But she ran often, joined the cross-country team, competed in charity races. All that practice must've made her a speeding bullet, no?
Actually, though - she sucked. Her stride lurched, like a stumbling kitten. Exhaustion disrupted the rhythm of her breathing. She was awesomely, epically slow. Plus she tripped, often in the most embarrassing way possible: on teachers, down stairs; pant-splitting, humiliating, absolutely ludicrous falls.
And she really, really loved it.
Past the park. Through the woods, Lucy lurched, breath labored, feet aching like bruises. Toward the lake. Left at the pretty blue house.
Pause at the pretty pink and brown boy.
Natsu's eyes widened at the sight before him. Lucy was gasping, hands at her gloriously wide hips. Sweat dripped off her ponytail. Her boobs - he could see boobs! - heaved up and down with her breathing.
She smelled something awful, but goddamn, he was a lucky guy.
"Hi, Natsu," she said.
Taken aback, Natsu just stared, mind blank. He might've waved, or said something. He couldn't remember; all that registered was surprise.
Her skin shone, face bright with exertion. "Natsu? Hello? You're not saying anything."
"You run?" he blurted. Then he flushed. "I mean, duh. Of course you run. You're in the middle of nowhere with running shoes. And you're all sweaty. Duh."
Lucy cringed and picked self-consciously at her tank top. "Oh, crap, I look totally gross. Don't I?"
He shrugged. "You look okay." Without thinking, he batted playfully at her ponytail. (His hand came away damp and stinky, but he discreetly wiped it on his pants. Like a gentleman.)
"I, um..." Awkward laugh. "I never see people out here when I run. I mean, the people in the house never come out. What...what are you doing out here by yourself?"
"Besides ambushing joggers?"
"Runners," she corrected gently. "And yeah, besides that."
"The quiet's nice," Natsu said. "Lots of space. It's a good peaceful place to contemplate my inevitable death n' all." Though he hoped for a smile, he really wasn't kidding.
A smile indeed spread over her face, slow and lovely. "You're such a goth."
"Yeah well, you're such a weirdo."
"You took off your makeup."
"So did you."
"Actually," she argued, "mine sweated off."
"Mine decided I wasn't pretty enough and ran away."
Despite herself, Lucy laughed. She couldn't help it, he was just so...cute. Instead of his usual spikes, his pink hair laid flat against his forehead. Without eye-liner his eyes softened into a melty coffee-black, skin warm brown and smooth. If she could draw, she'd draw him. If she could sculpt, she'd sculpt him.
But she wasn't an artist. She just really wanted to kiss him.
Almost shyly (since when was she shy?), she asked, "So...am I pretty enough?"
"What?" Natsu looked surprised.
"Remember, you said...I'd still be pretty with all my gunk off? So it's off, Natsu. And? Am I still okay?"
You're beautiful. The immediacy of the thought alarmed him, but it resonated with truth. Poetry-obsessed weird boys ruminate on the meaning of beauty a whole lot, and— Well, if anything meant beautiful, it was Lucy.
Way to be sappy, Natsu.
Just for his ego, he made a big show of leaning close to her face to inspect: her broad cheekbones, freckled nose, milk-skin and rose-lips. Beautiful, beautiful, and...beautiful. But still. Why couldn't he say it? She fidgeted, looking beyond uncomfortable.
This time way to be a dick, Natsu.
"You're more than okay. Way more." And then he lamely tugged her ponytail again, unable to look at her. Smart Natsu in his head screamed: THIS IS WHY YOU'RE SINGLE, DUDE.
But the most beatific smile slipped across her face like a two-second sunset, and yes, he knew that sounded corny but he didn't care because she was so lovely and dammit he was so into this girl that it hurt.
That," she beamed, "was a shit answer."
"That," he said, "was such a white girl question."
His lips were pressed together hard, trying not to smile, but his eyes brimmed with some crazy emotion that lit his face like flame. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pockets. His left cheek dimpled.
Beautiful, Lucy thought. But she said nothing.
Suddenly Natsu cleared his throat. "It's sorta dark now. We should, um...prolly both go home."
Lucy's eyes widened. "Yeah. Um, I should. I guess I'll just—" She gestured vaguely towards the direction she came. "It was nice seeing you, Natsu Dragneel."
"You too, Lucy Heartfilia."
With an awkward head bop, she turned around and broke into a stilted jog.
Natsu called out, "Wait!" and cursed himself the second he did it. Lucy turned back, looking so hopeful that something fluttered in him. "It's really late, Luce. Maybe—if you're okay with it, I could drive you home. I have a truck. It's in that house that's, uh, well, the blue one over there. I'm still fifteen, but it's just a few miles, so...we should be okay."
"That's really nice, Natsu, but you don't need to bother—"
"You're not a bother," he blurted. "You're good company. I like you." He smiled a lopsided smile, and his face was so sweet she could've melted into goo. "Lemme drive you home."
She was so flustered she could only nod.
"Good," he said, grinning.
"Careful, Natsu," she said as the walked towards his garage. "If you keep being nice to me I'll forget that you think I'm weird."
"You are weird." Natsu poked her. "You're nuts. You're a lunatic. You're the freaking mythical creature of weirdness."
Deeply insulted, she snapped, "Listen, you goth-ass piece of guy-liner—"
"And that's exactly why I like you."
"Oh," Lucy said.
They drove in silence all the way home.