I have always been scared of my own feelings. I am scared of falling and hurting. But I did fall, hard, and it hurt. So much that I ran away.
I have always been denying it. But for how long? How much longer did you plan on deceiving yourself? On tormenting yourself?
What a fool.
A Tale from Thelua
[25] honest
Golden hair brushed her cheek as the wind blew. Lucy tucked the strand behind her ears as she combed the rest of it with her fingers. Her hair that was once braided neatly was now let loose. It fell to her shoulder, down to her lap. The sight of her hair always reminded her of her father. Golden hair was the sign of royalty in Feliose, a prove that she was a part of the royal family and something she took pride in as she inherited it from her father the king. Often, he told her that she resembled her mother a lot, but she couldn't deny that the brilliant shade of blonde and her brown, almost honey-colored eyes came from him.
Father, how are you?
She was back in her favorite hiding place – the bench beneath the wisteria arch. She had asked Wendy to return first as she had promised Lady Emma to return before the midday. Lucy should have returned together with her, but she managed to convince Wendy that she needed more fresh air. Fortunately, the girl didn't inquire further so Lucy was freed from the guilt of making her worry.
It had been almost a month since she was married to Natsu. Yet within that one month, she never expected that there would be so many things that happened. Her marriage was one, but she didn't know that she would be reunited with that man. And if only he had forgotten about her, then everything would be easy. But, sadly, that was not the case and things took a complete turn. Lucy blamed herself for not having enough conviction, for easily being led by him, for forgetting and losing her hold on her feelings.
Father, there are so many things that I want to talk about.
The sound of the palace's bell rang throughout the palace, telling her that it was midday and that she should be heading inside for lunch. But her legs refused to move, and she was not feeling hungry at all. Millie, Agne, and Ange would flip if they knew she was skipping her meal and Wendy would give her an earful. But, no. She had no appetite at all.
Her gaze shifted to the pink flower on her lap that once tucked in her braided hair by Wendy. It was called camellia, the favorite flower of Her Majesty. The pink petals were resting atop each other, creating a beautiful arrangement. The color reminded her of her husband, and she chuckled lightly at the thought of how the flower would go well with his hair.
Suddenly, it was raining flower petals around her. Lucy blinked and raised her head in confusion and surprise, meeting the person who was standing in front of her without her noticing.
"Natsu?"
The man in question didn't reply. A slight crease was apparent between his eyebrows before he closed his eyes and let out a small sigh. "You didn't return with Wendy," he said, sounding almost relieved, "I heard from Gray that you didn't bring any escort, so I thought you've lost your way."
His hand found hers, spreading warmth to her cold one. He bowed then placed a small kiss on its back – his lips lingered a beat longer than it should be. "Or kidnapped, perhaps," he added in a quiet murmur.
But Lucy heard it, and as the hold around her hand got tighter, she reached for his head and patted him there. "I won't be going anywhere," she said with an amused smile, "and no men would dare to kidnap me with you as my husband."
Lucy could feel his gaze on her hand. On the ring around her finger. As Lucy retracted her hand from his head, Natsu let go of her hand and proceed to sit on the ground, leaning to the empty spot of the bench next to her. He stared at her as he rested his hand on the bench and propped his chin on it. There was something in his eyes, she noticed, no matter how impassive his face was.
"Brother would," he said, the eyes that stared at her gleamed almost dangerously.
Her smile faltered. She tore her gaze from him to the flower on her lap. "Yes, he would," Lucy whispered.
Natsu glanced away. Lucy didn't know how the slightest mention of that man could affect her that much. Natsu was angry, at least she knew that much. She thought it was fair as she has had her fair share of being angry at him regarding Lisanna. Yet, somehow, the thought of his anger pained her more than she expected.
Her hands made their way to Natsu's, grasping his bigger hand slowly, almost hesitantly. "Natsu, will you listen to my story?" She asked. "About me and Zeref."
The hand in her grasp twitched. Lucy waited for his answer, wondering what she would do if he didn't want to hear it. Of course, she understood if he did so. It was understandable. But then, he nodded wordlessly, and his hand grasped hers.
"Two years ago, I met him several days before Feliose and Thelua's conference was held," she started. "He didn't reveal more than his name and told me that he was one of the knights who was sent to guard the border, yet he knew my identity. From that on, we often bumped into each other around the city as I managed the conference preparation. He helped me a lot with things related to Thelua that I could not manage, and we became close."
A stray memory of her talking and laughing with him resurfaced. A gentle smile, a gentle laugh, a gentle gaze, a gentle hug.
More memories resurfaced and each was replayed so vividly as if it was a memory just from the other day.
"The night before the conference was held, he confessed that he had something to tell me and we promised to meet again after the conference finished. Yet during the conference, standing behind Thelua's representative, Lord Makarov, was him. I was informed that the best knight of Thelua would guard the representative, but I also knew his true identity as the first prince of Thelua. I thought of asking him when we meet later, but he never showed."
No matter how long I wait, he never shows.
No message, no words, nothing.
As if he was gone.
"I missed him."
She didn't realize how that thought managed to slip past her lips or when the tears started falling down her face. She pulled a hand to wipe away the tears hastily when a gentle tug came from him, forcing her to return to the present, forcing her into him. She didn't know since when he had been standing, but the hand that held hers never did waver. When her vision cleared and her sense returned, she was already engulfed by him, caged in his arms. Her hand hung limp on her side as she struggled to speak and failed.
The hand that held her still was warm and strong, but it felt safe. She felt safe, and relieved, and guilty, and mad but none of those feelings could be spoken. Tears continued to fall, dampening his clothes, and her shoulder trembled as she tried not to break into more of a mess.
Natsu had been silent throughout the time, she noticed. He had the right to be angry, she thought – his wife had just told him how she missed another man, after all.
"Lucy, Lucy," he then whispered her name slowly.
"I'm sorry, Natsu," she managed to say it in a choked sob, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."
"It's okay."
"No, it is not okay."
"It is."
"You must be angry at me, right?"
She felt the shake of his head on her shoulder. "I'm not."
"Lie," she retorted. "Don't lie to me just to make me feel better."
Natsu released his hold on her, wiped the tears gently and said, "I am angry, but not at you. It doesn't count as a lie, does it?"
This man, Lucy thought, how could he not be angry at her? His eyes found her crying ones, gazing at her gently. When Lucy didn't answer him, Natsu pulled her once again into him. "I'm angry at him," he spoke quietly against the crown of her head, "for making you feel like this."
Lucy wrapped her hand around his torso, clinging into him and pressing her face into his chest. There, the scent of cinnamon filled her. She liked it. It made her felt safe. And home. As if she belonged there.
"You still love him, don't you?" The question came in a whisper, almost as if he didn't want her to hear it. But she heard it, and she remembered the same question she once asked him. In fact, all of this was like a repetition of what happened that evening when he told her about Lisanna.
Back then, his answer was a straight affirmation, even if it was thickly coated with something akin to repression – as if he shouldn't be feeling that way. But she…
"If this is what people call as love, then I don't want to acknowledge it."
Her grip on his clothes tightened, concealing the pain that crept inside her chest. For two years, she refused to acknowledge it, ran from it, denied it. No matter how many times the memory of him returned to her, she pretended that none of that mattered anymore. Her marriage gave her another reason to forget him; it empowered her conviction.
But it took only a smile, a glance, and a greeting from him to make it all crumble.
Love, she thought, wasn't supposed to be miserable.
Love, she thought, was supposed to be warm.
"Tell me, Natsu," she whispered, raising her head to see him. "How are you supposed to erase this feeling?"
There was something in his eyes that she could not discern. Like a burning fire, yet also gentle. "You will have to meet the right person," he said, staring deep into her eyes.
"Have you meet her?"
He smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile and her breath were hitched. Something was set aflutter in her abdomen and Lucy couldn't help but lean into the hand that was touching her cheek gently. For some reason, she was not afraid of his answer.
"I have."
For some reason, she wished that that lady he spoke of was her.
She closed her eyes, letting another tear fall to her cheek. "Who?"
"You."
Lucy's eyes opened, letting more of the tears she had tried to hold fell. His hand brushed past her hair and tucked some of it behind her ear. Onyx eyes met her brown ones – showing no hint of joke or amusement in there. His smile didn't falter, and his voice was just as sure. Lucy closed her eyes once again, and the next thing she felt was a gentle pressure on her lips, warm and pleasant. Like home.
As if she belonged with him.