*screeches* sorry sorry sorry for more than one thing (like lateness and shortness and you'll figure out the rest)
Artemis bit her lip in concentration, brushing a stray strand of hair behind her ear absent-mindedly as she carefully brushed some yellow in the forefront of the canvas, shaping it in the likes of a lightning bolt. There was some quiet music going in the background to keep in from becoming too silent, and the pale streaks of silver light sifted through the windows, the half moon shining brightly beyond the glass.
Wind brushed past her from an open window sitting across the room from the moon, shifting her clothes lightly as she gently washed her brush out and chose a new color. This time a vibrant purple, she cast it onto the background, knowing the explosion of opposition would help balance the painting out. Too much yellow did nothing but blind the viewer, and she wanted this one to be special, so she was being extra meticulous about it.
She let out a breath that she hadn't known she was holding when the dark outline of the main focus of the painting was finished. Now all she needed was to add some more base color to the face and hair before she could concentrate on the details. Just as she was about to exchange the tool she was using for a better suited brush, a flash of movement caught her eyes, and her former experience with being snuck up on tugged nastily on her memories. Without hesitation she flung what she was holding in the general direction of the movement, which happened to be her wetted paintbrush. It smacked into something with a splat and landed innocently on the floor. With further examination, Artemis realized she had assaulted the curtains that were delicately swaying in the gentle breeze from the open window. She let out an angry breath and stomped over to close the window that was to blame for her near heart attack.
"Congratulations, you just killed some curtains." She nearly screamed when she heard the voice from behind her and she spun, raising her hands in self-defence, when she noticed it was only Laxus. Her relief channeled into some frustrated, embarrassed anger.
"Don't do that," She scolded him, slamming the window shut. The perpetrator himself shrugged, then turned his gaze to the propped canvas.
"And what-?" He started.
"Don't look at that!" She then shrieked, flying over to the stand and covering her work of art with her body protectively. "It's not done yet!" He merely raised an eyebrow and she sighed.
"Yes I know it's three in the morning, I get inspiration at the worst times, yes you will see it eventually, no it's not anything inappropriate, I didn't think you would come down here, it was supposed to be a pre-"
"I didn't know you painted," Laxus interrupted, knowing she would ramble on for hours if he didn't stop her. She paused and contemplated his statement for a moment with a thoughtful expression on her face.
"Yeah, I guess we never did tell you. I paint whenever I get inspiration, and I suppose I'm rather decent at it after so much practice, Lyla does tell me it's really well done and full of emotion…" She trailed off when she noticed his eyes settle on a certain piece of art she had done a few days after the kidnappings. She flinched when his gaze fell on hers, full of question and, unnervingly, understanding. The usually energetic redhead slowly moved her head towards the dark painting. It was full of purple, with red, unblinking eyes that shone from the depths of the color. Darkness was emanating from a pastel figure which was lying on what seemed to be the floor, and it didn't take Laxus long to figure out the figure represented the sleeping singer upstairs.
"Sometimes I get my inspiration from frightening places," Artemis whispered, feeling incredibly vulnerable and like she was laying out her soul to be judged. Her paintings represented who she was, and nobody -save for Lyla- had ever seen them before. Eventually she closed her eyes, unable to stare at the horrible painting any longer. She was not sure why she had not already burned the torturous thing, as it made her depressed every time she looked at it. She had thought that Lyla had died and that she was alone with the freakish man. Lyla, her best friend, basically her sister, the one who had been with her through it all… gone. Artemis had never before felt so fearful of her life, regardless if she lived through the experience or not. For a few brief, long minutes, Artemis's existence had been completely destroyed.
A hand touched her shoulder and brought her back to reality. Grateful for the physical contact, she studied Laxus's stormy blue-green eyes as if they could solve all of her problems. He searched her gaze silently, attempting to discover whether or not she had drawn herself out of the dark corner she seldom visited. Artemis's face softened as she realized that she was not alone, that her friends were there for her to help her through the tough times. Laxus was not going anywhere anytime soon, especially if Artemis had anything to say about it. He was their family now, whether he liked it or not.
A very Artemis-like grin suddenly overtook her face, and the serious -yet saddeningly dark- moment was gone, causing Laxus to let out a relieved breath of air. "I got a really good drawing of Lyla, wanna see it?" She then waited for half a second before trying to drag Laxus through the cellar where she kept her painting and drawing tools. He allowed himself to be carted to a table that was covered in random sketches, drawings and paintings. The painter shuffled some stained papers around, searching with renewed vigor. Finally she held up a painting on thick paper exuberantly, dramatically presenting it to Laxus. He gently took the rough paper, originally only to humor her, when he caught sight of the picture itself.
Artemis watched in fascination as the dragon slayer's usually stoic face transformed into something like awe, causing her to mentally squeal in excitement, knowing how hard it was to get Laxus impressed.
His eyes scanned the paper with wonder. It was a crude image of Lyla, drawn vaguely on purpose, with a flute in her hands. She was playing it with her eyes closed, hair swaying in the imaginary wind as music notes flowed from the instrument and off to the right of the painting where the soothing warm colors of the sky behind became more obvious. It was really well done, enacting what Artemis proudly called "artist's liberty".
"You can keep it if you want," She proclaimed, leaning against the table delightedly. The cellar was enveloped in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, a sleepy feeling overtaking both of them, showing more obviously on Artemis. Suddenly an idea struck the painter and she grinned lethargically.
"Laxus, the price for that painting is giving me a piggy back ride back upstairs," She commanded him. He raised an eyebrow in her direction, amused at her order. "Please?" She added with a pleading expression. Laxus let out a breath and, astonishingly, complied to her request, feeling amiable and uncharacteristically complaisant at that moment. Besides, he felt that the redhead needed a pick me up, literal or not.
Regardless, he crouched down for her to yelp in excitement and jump on his back. He stood up and started the trek upstairs. To his complete amusement, by the time they reached her room, she was out cold. You owe me one, he thought as he opened the door to her abode. He had half a mind to just throw her onto her bedspread, but he instead placed her gently down and hesitated before drawing the blanket over her figure. She let out a deep sigh in her sleep and turned over, and Laxus took that as his cue to leave. He entered the guest room, now his room if the three were being honest with themselves, and a warm feeling enveloped his chest.
He wasn't one to be sappy or nostalgic, but he was feeling extra sentimental in that moment. Memories of living with and hanging out with the two girls flashed through his mind, along with -strangely- memories of Fairy Tail. The blonde furrowed his brow as he changed into bedclothes. It had been a while since he had thought of his good memories pertaining to his former guild, and a few of Gramp's ending words suddenly came back to him: "Life is to be enjoyed, you know." His mind subconsciously affiliated that statement with befriending the girls. He then remembered the fact that he was the considered "heir" to Fairy Tail, or at least he used to be. Laxus furrowed his brows in confusion; it had been ages since he had even considered being the heir. A certain thought struck his brain and nervous, excited terror rushed through his body. Before he acknowledged the pounding need in his soul, before he considered the destination in his mind, he whipped out the painting of Lyla and stared at it regretfully before grabbing a pen and scrawling a vague, most likely terrifying message on the back saying something along the lines of I'm sorry and redemption with family and he even threw in an I love you both in his frantic writing and didn't question the impulse. He left the painting on his bed and sat down with his head in his hands, finally addressing the sudden pull of Fairy Tail beating through his core.
What is this stirring in my heart…?
Lyla dropped her precious wooden flute to the floor and screamed Artemis's name hysterically, the redhead downstairs frantically painting with a distressed air, as she saw the earth-shattering words flicker across the screen innocently:
"Tenroujima island wiped off the map, Fairy Tail mages missing in action!"
End of Part One.