A/N: This is part of my 30 Drabbles series, but because of how long some of these prompts are becoming, I've decided to put the ones that are over 4k into their own separate stories. The stories that are already in 30 Drabbles will stay there for now (I'll move them later on down the road to make them easier for you guys to find).
See the note at the end of this chapter for what inspired the story. This will be a two-shot, since I wanted to get something out to you guys now, and there are still a few more scenes that need to get written.
There was a lot of back and forth on what I wanted to do with this. But, I hope you enjoy some Modern AU thingamajiggy.
Wind
Lucy x Rogue
Rated T
According to Sting, Rogue was a hermit. He never really took the time to try and prove his friend wrong on the matter - really, when did Sting listen? - but Rogue was sure it would have been much worse if his best friend since childhood had found out that the only reason he knew there was a major storm out in the ocean was because of social media.
It was a lucky coincidence that Rogue had even logged onto his Faeriefire account in the first place. He wasn't going to tell anyone that the coincidence had been him accidentally clicking on a message Gajeel had sent about different melting points of metal. Somehow he'd decided to check his other notifications, and then scrolled down the feed for an hour before he realized that this Percy that everyone was talking about was actually a frightening hurricane that would probably decimate the entire southern portion of Fiore.
Fabulous.
It was made even worse when he saw the ridiculous videos cropping up of long lines in supermarkets while people stocked up for the storm. People fighting over gallons of water, as though none of them had a sink they could use. That thought had him standing from the computer and filling twelve quart-sized zip bags full of water from the fridge and putting them in the freezer, just in case. He really would only need six for him and his cat, Frosch, for drinking and hygiene, but it was better to be prepared and not need it.
But then he went right back to his computer. Rogue watched the insanity unfold as gas stations ran out of fuel and people clamored to the highways to try and flee Magnolia and the surrounding cities to get further north. Lucky for him, he'd already gotten gas earlier that week, and hadn't gone anywhere in that time.
Rogue switched gears after getting tired of seeing posts about prayers for the people in southern Fiore, some saying that everyone needed to evacuate, others saying they wouldn't leave no matter what. Finally, he turned to the television and put on the weather channel. He never really watched it - there wasn't a point when he worked from home and really only drove when it was absolutely necessary - but he was positive that watching the channel dedicated to weather would be a far cry more accurate than trying to wade through the bullshit of normal news networks. That ended up working out pretty well, as far as he was concerned. It let him know that he had four days to decide what the hell he was doing.
If he wanted to evacuate, Rogue was sure that he could call up Skiadrum and get a flight up north fairly easily. But that would have to be arranged in the next day or so, and he wasn't sure if it really warranted all that much of a fuss. Percy was only a category five at the moment. Yes, that was the highest it could get, and that storm was massive, but he had four days before it would hit landfall and it could very easily weaken to a mere category two in that time.
He could always try and plan for the projected path the weatherman gave, and evacuate over to Sting's or even Gajeel's. Except that would entail packing up his valuable possessions - especially Frosch, who was in the process of curling up in a small ball on top of his hand on the remote - and going out. He would have to deal with the traffic that was already backing up. The morons who were freaking out over the storm.
The last option was the one he really preferred. Staying put. His house may have been a small two bedroom, but it was his. Even though it was only one story, the thing was also concrete. Solid. And it had been built in the last decade, so he was mostly positive that it met all the hurricane standards set out by the local government. He knew his windows were double-paned. That had to count for something.
Plus, staying home would be simpler. He already lived off of the bare minimum, and his food was always vacuum-sealed in single portions before being frozen for whenever he decided to cook it. He didn't have a grill or firewood, but he did know how to build a fire.
Considering the debris that would probably be littering the ground, he could easily build a fire to cook his food over if he had to go without power for an extended period of time.
Besides, cheap pasta straight from the can wasn't that bad. He'd learned that in college. Thanks to Sting.
Maybe he really was a hermit though, Rogue thought, choosing to stay holed up in his home instead of fleeing like everyone else, or even calling a friend to have some sort of companionship during the storm. It didn't really matter to him though. Especially not when Frosch yawned, stretched, and curled right back up on his hand, forcing his thumb to change the channel.
"No, I'm not leaving."
"Ryos, this is serious. You need to look at how big that storm is. It's going to decimate the islands. What do you think it will do when it gets to you?"
He sighed for what had to be the hundredth time that hour. "Dad, I'm not even in a flood zone."
"Did you see this thing Sting posted? It says you'll be on the east side of the hurricane, Ryos! They call it the dirty side! It'll have tornadoes! You might not have to worry about flooding from a storm surge, but tornadoes-"
"If they hit, they hit," Rogue said. "I've got a hallway blocked off in the middle of the house already."
"Blocked off how?"
"Mattresses on either side. It's got the guest bathroom there, so I'll at least have a toilet. And the laundry is on the other side, so I can use that as a cooler with the ice I already made. I probably won't even lose power though."
"Probably, he says!" Skiadrum let out a long, slow breath that Rogue cringed away from through the phone. He knew that sound well. "People are evacuating, son. You need to leave too. Weisslogia already got Sting this morning, and that was cutting it close. And he said that you refused to join him."
"There's no reason to go," Rogue replied. "It's going west of me. I won't be in the eye. I'll be fine."
"There's no way to know you'll be fine!"
"There's also no way to know that I won't be fine," he said. "I'm as prepared as I can be, Dad."
"But you'll be all alone," Skiadrum said. Rogue rolled his eyes and his head dropped back onto the couch. Not this again. "It'd be one thing if there was someone with you, or someone who could check on you."
"I'm fine," he said. He'd been saying that a lot lately. "I don't need anyone with me."
"But if you had a girlfriend there, or-"
"Then you'd be hassling me and this fictional girlfriend to come up there, when there's nothing to be freaking out about."
"How will I know if you're alright, son?"
Frosch jumped up onto the couch and mewled while rubbing her face on his elbow. "I'll be in touch with you," he said.
"And if your power goes out?"
"I'll still have a charge on my phone," Rogue said. He propped his phone between his head and shoulder, then pulled Frosch up into his lap to give her the love she was clearly so desperately in need of. The poor, neglected little thing. "I'll text you and let you know what's going on, then turn off my phone to conserve the battery in case there's a real emergency. I can go pick up a throw away phone with some minutes on it, and I'll have that one too, in case my phone does die and I need to get in touch with you."
"... That's actually a good idea."
"I've done a lot of research," he chuckled.
"Ryos," Skiadrum sighed, "Please just come home, okay? Sting's here with Lector, and we're all sitting around watching the news to keep an eye on everything. I'll feel a lot better if-"
"Dad, I know," he groaned.
"Then come home!"
"No," he said. "I'm staying here, and I'm going to make sure this house that you helped me get - which, thank you again, by the way - is still standing, and not ransacked by advantageous looters after the fact."
"That's not making me feel better, Ryos." Luckily, he could hear his father's smile, and Rogue just knew it was one of those times where he was fighting not to do it. "But, if you're sure."
"I'm sure," he said, smiling as well. His eyes closed and he listened to the droning voice on the television while his father started talking about his business up north. Everything was going to be alright, he was sure of it. This storm wasn't going to be that bad by the time it hit the mainland. The islands to the south were going to get the worst of it, and he was going to be alright.
"We're preparing for Percy to directly impact our state, but it's still too early to say exactly where the storm will hit."
Rogue sat on the edge of the couch, chewing on the tip of his thumb while his deep red eyes memorized the projected track of the hurricane. He'd been watching non-stop, waiting for any change in the news, or for the models to shift one way or another. And if they didn't stop playing Governor Gran Doma's speech about this on repeat once every hour and fifteen minutes, then he was going to throw something.
"It is incredibly important for everyone to keep a close eye on this incredibly dangerous storm. Do not sit and wait for this storm to come."
If he'd wanted to fly out to his dad's, then he would have needed to be on a plane the day before. As it stood, the airports had all shut down. The highways were clogged and unmoving. It was insane out there. He definitely didn't want to get caught in that traffic.
Hell, there was no gas in the whole state as it was. The grocery stores were cleaned out as well, for the most part. What really aggravated him though was seeing the people being interviewed on the news, saying that they wanted to stock up, but there was nothing left. It wasn't that they'd waited too long, but that there were people who'd gone crazy buying everything in sight, only to evacuate.
"Percy is extremely dangerous and deadly, and will cause devastation. Get prepared right now."
Well, he was definitely prepared. He had tons of nonperishable foods from before the storm even made an appearance. His freezer was already stocked with ice that he'd made. He had gone out the day before to buy two extra cases of cat litter for Frosch though, just in case. And another small bag of cat food, and a cell phone with prepaid minutes for dire emergencies. Luckily for him, she also loved to eat his ravioli - usually off his fork, and sometimes while he was bringing it to his mouth to eat - so he knew that she was taken care of.
He'd even moved her litter box into the hallway where he'd set up his hurricane fort. And he'd added trash bags and Febreze to his supplies when he considered the potential smell if they were cooped up for too long. There was even a duffel bag with a week's worth of clothes for him and her cat carrier in the hall. Sure, it was cramped, but he didn't care about that. As long as he had what was most important, then it would all be fine.
He had to keep telling himself that it would be fine.
"The latest models are in, folks," Dave the Meteorologist said as the Governor's speech ended. "Now, as you can see here, they look like they're finally coming together, so we're getting a much more accurate reading on where this is going up until this point right here…"
Rogue watched intently as the multicolored lines covered the map. Each one was within only a few miles of the next until they reached two cities south of Magnolia. That was when each projected path branched off. Some turned nearly ninety degrees to the east, putting Magnolia on the west side of the storm. Others cut right up the center of the state.
But the worst part of all of this was that the storm, no matter which direction it went, covered the whole state and then some. It was hitting them.
His phone rang a moment later, and he didn't hesitate to pick it up.
"Rogue, man, you need to leave now!" Sting shouted into the phone.
"Can't," he said. He finally stopped biting his thumb - the nail was already bitten down to the quick, as were his other nails - and moved on to the tip of his index finger. "Roads are still jammed up, there's no gas anywhere."
"You should've left with me, man!"
"Sting, I can see that now."
"But no! You were all, 'Oh, I'm gonna be fine, Sting. It's not that bad, Sting. I'm just gonna stay here and ride out the storm, Sting.' Well, clearly it is that bad, and you're not gonna be fine, and the only riding you'll be doing in that storm is through the air with a fence post through your chest, Rogue!"
He couldn't help but roll his eyes at the mocking tone in his best friend's voice.
"And don't even get me started on your dad, for fuck's sake. He's wringing his hands so much, I'm pretty sure they're gonna fall off at the wrists!"
"Well, it's not like I can do anything about it now, Sting," he sighed. Still, even though he reached down and muted the television, he kept watching the news. The destruction currently being wrought in the islands to the south. The water swelling and crashing on the southern shore of the state that had become a ghost town in the past few days.
"Stop biting your nails."
"I'm not."
"Then stop chewing your fingers, Rogue. You're gonna have creepy little stumps by the time we find your dead body."
With his eyes narrowed, Rogue pulled the phone from his ear and slammed his thumb on the little red button to end the call. "Dick," he muttered while unmuting the television and moving on to chew on his middle finger.
"We're preparing for Percy to directly impact our state, but it's still too early to say exactly where the storm will hit."
"Goddamnit," Rogue groaned. He ran his hands down his face while Governor Gran Doma's speech started playing again. Maybe things would work out, and this would all blow over. Maybe not literally, though, because he really wanted his house to still be standing after the week was over.
He really wished he could be more like Frosch at times. Like right then as the heavy winds battered the side of his house and hummed with an odd sort of hollowness that unnerved him more than anything else in the world. Not even praying mantises had this effect on him, and he tended to run in the opposite direction when he saw those.
He hadn't lived in the south for long, having decided to move with Sting after they'd graduated from college. It gave him the drive to actually do something with his life, instead of just lazing about his father's house in the north. His only connection to home here was Sting, but they were usually inseparable.
His phone buzzed on the couch, and Rogue lifted it to check the new text message from Gajeel.
"Shit's insane, dude. You still good?"
With a small smile, he typed back that he was alright. It was nice that Gajeel cared enough to text him. Rogue knew this would be the extent of their conversation though, because his most recent friend had booked it out of the state as soon as they'd heard the storm was a cat-five. Gajeel was currently on the west coast with his parents, living it up on a beach that wasn't currently being washed away by the storm surge.
This wasn't even the worst of it though. This hurricane was massive, terrifyingly so, so he was only getting the outer bands of rain and wind that would grow stronger with each passing hour.
From what the weather channel reported, the winds in his area were only around thirty miles per hour. It could easily get up to a hundred in the coming hours. That left him wondering if he'd secured everything as best as he could. The windows weren't boarded up, because he hadn't been able to get down to the hardware store before the vultures swooped in and picked the shelves dry. Rogue really didn't even know how to board windows in the first place. At least he was smart enough not to have taped giant X's over the panes.
He'd read an article from the Hurricane team working with the weather channel that those taped X's were actually more of a hazard. Imagine little shards of glass flying through the room when the window busted open, or enormous window knives impaling your kidneys. Yeah, he decided to chance it with some cuts and scrapes.
But once the weather picked up a bit more, and if he started getting tornado warnings at some point, then Rogue was going to be holed up in his hallway anyway.
A loud thump from outside had him nearly jumping out of his skin, but then it was gone, and he was left there with Frosch still sleeping in his lap. Listening to the steady thrum of wind and rain on the roof and windows. His gaze trained on the television and the anchors who were in the process of showing the devastation in the southern tip of the state while holding onto a rope to keep themselves on the screen.
The storm was in full swing, and Rogue really wished he had some alcohol to calm his fucking nerves. But no, he'd been reminded repeatedly not to drink in case of an emergency. He needed to have his wits about him.
The rain didn't come in waves any longer. It was full force, constant, and beating down on every side of his house enough that he was actually starting to worry about whether this really was a flood zone or not. His area hadn't been evacuated, so he was supposed to be safe from the storm surge. That didn't mean the roads couldn't flood, or that the sewers couldn't get clogged with debris and flood everything around him. He could end up literally on his own little island, with all of the neighboring houses flooded.
He really needed to stop thinking about flooding.
So instead he thought about the wind again. It wasn't that odd little hollow hum any longer. Now it screamed as though it was desperate to be heard. He kept listening for the telltale train over the railroad tracks sound that was common with incoming tornadoes, but those never came. It put him at ease only a little bit.
He needed to do something though, because just sitting in front of the television was going to drive him nuts. He couldn't focus enough to work right then. That would have to wait until after the storm had passed. Rogue stood and made his way to the kitchen, grabbing a small bag of pretzels and a soda before returning to the living room. It wasn't much, but at least he'd stood for a couple minutes. Got the blood circulating again.
Something heavy hit his front door, rattling the wood on its hinges. Rogue was just glad he hadn't opened his drink yet, or he would've spilled it everywhere. Maybe it was his neighbor's shrubs. They hadn't trimmed the stupid things very well before evacuating like a bunch of pansies - even though he was now wishing he had evacuated just so he didn't have to sit through this shit - so it was entirely probable that their stupid hydrangeas had been uprooted and flew into his door.
He could have gone on believing it, too, if it hadn't been for the repetitive banging on the door that sounded more like the police had come knocking than branches scraping the paint off. Rogue really wanted to ignore it. Still, he stood and took a chance to peek out one of his back windows where the wind wasn't beating directly on it.
The trees in his back neighbor's yard half an acre away were bent in half under the wind's unforgiving pressure.
The banging on his door continued, and Rogue finally turned to at least check the peephole. Maybe it really was just a bush or a branch or part of a tree. Even a tricycle that some kid had left out.
The last thing he'd been expecting was a person standing at his front door. Well, more like pressed against it while their fist hammered on the wood again and again. Who in their right mind would be outside in this weather?
Rogue flipped the deadbolt and pressed his shoulder against the door to brace it, and himself, against the wind. This was one reason he hated this stupid thing. It opened out instead of into the house. The person was still banging on the door though, leaning against it with everything they had, so he couldn't move it. How was he supposed to help them, whoever they were, if he couldn't open the damn door in the first place?
"Step back!" he shouted. Maybe that would work. If they could hear him, that is. Except, he could feel the vibrations from them hitting the wood. They couldn't hear a thing, and he couldn't help like this. But maybe...
He looked over to the switch that was connected to his porch light. It was on already, though he couldn't remember turning it on before, so he reached over and flicked it off, then back on. Off again, and back on. Anything to let this person know that, yes, someone was here. And yes, he was willing to help.
The banging stopped, and he looked through the peephole again to find the person was missing. Well, they weren't in front of the little fish-bowl view he had of the outside world. Once again, he braced his body against the door and turned the knob, then slowly pushed it open. He hadn't been prepared for the sudden gust of wind to start battering against the door, or the small wind tunnel that his porch created. He nearly lost his grip on the knob just trying to keep it mostly closed.
And then he saw the woman huddled in the corner of his porch, soaked from head to toe and holding a whimpering white chihuahua to her chest.
"It's okay, Plue," she said. "It's alright, I've gotcha." She jumped when, not a moment later, there was a loud crack that sounded like a million pencils had been broken all at once. An uprooted tree went sailing down the road and finally landed on his neighbor's blue sedan. That was what the idiot got for leaving their car out of the garage. Still, as the sound of smashing glass and wood scraping over the dented metal pierced the violent air, he knew that he couldn't just leave her out here.
"Are you insane?!" he shouted over the wind, drawing her attention. "Get inside!"
She didn't seem to question it, and instead crawled across the ground and over to him. Her golden hair was plastered to her head and shoulders, but he ignored everything in favor of reaching out for her and all but dragging her inside. Once the door was shut again, he locked the deadbolt and rounded on the woman who was apparently a total lunatic. She had to be if she'd been running around outside just then.
"Th-Thank you so much," she said, and he could see how she shivered from the rain that had soaked through her clothes.
"Are you crazy?" he asked again. "What were you doing out there?"
She pushed the hair from her eyes, creating a ridiculous looking blonde rat's nest on the side of her head, and tightened her grip around the equally shivering dog in her arms. "A tree broke my sliding glass door," she said. "Plue got spooked and ran out the back, and since my fence was already busted before the storm, he decided it would be a good idea to book it down the street."
Rogue blinked and ignored the sound of water dripping off of her too tight tank top and little jean shorts, and onto the wood floor.
"So, I threw on my shoes and grabbed my phone, then ran after him," she continued. "Once I got him, the wind tried picking both of us up, and then I saw your light was on, and I took a chance. God, you have no idea how happy I am that you're as crazy as I am with sticking around."
Finally, he nodded while looking down at the quiet dog. If Frosch had gone running out in this weather, he would have been just as stupid. He would have chased his precious little cat through anything just to get her back home. But there was no way this woman could go back to her own home with that storm raging outside.
When he thought about it, and really looked at her, he honestly could see the wind being strong enough to lift her off the ground. Hell, the unfortunate news anchor who got put out in the field to report on the storm was tethered to a pole just in case. And Bacchus Groh, who was covering Magnolia right then, was much larger than she was.
"Come on then," he said, turning away from her. "I'll get you some towels." He paused after a couple steps and looked at her over his shoulder. "I have a cat, by the way."
"Oh, Plue's very sweet," she said, smiling as she followed him. "He doesn't chase cats."
Rogue nodded again and led her toward his little hurricane fort in the inner hallway. "Wait here. The linen closet's in there."
She laughed as he squeezed through the small space between the mattress that was propped up to cover the mouth of the hallway and the wall. He grabbed several towels, then returned and handed them to her. "Thanks," she said, setting Plue on the floor while she dried herself off. It didn't do much good though, since her clothes were soaked, but it was a start. He waited for her to dry the dog as well.
"My bedroom is over here," he said. "I can lend you some clothes so you don't catch a cold."
"That would be great."
She didn't seem to question his motives as he took her to his bedroom, and instead just followed along behind him. Maybe a little too close, considering he'd never met her before. "Shirts are in this drawer, and pants are in the other drawers."
Her jaw dropped when she opened one drawer to reveal several piles of perfectly folded pajama pants. She looked at the one drawer that he'd said had shirts, then to the other five in the dresser. "These are all pants?"
Rogue shrugged and walked back toward his bedroom door. He wasn't going to watch her change, and it didn't really matter what she decided to wear. He practically lived in pajamas, simply because Sting had a very bad habit of dropping by unannounced, and he occasionally brought his flavor of the month girlfriend along with him. After enough times of having some random woman see Rogue in nothing but his boxers while he sat in front of the computer, he'd invested in a serious pajama collection. "I'll see you in the living room," he said.
"Wait," she called out, and he stopped to peer at her over his shoulder. "My name's Lucy, by the way."
His lips parted, more than ready to tell her that his name was Rogue, but something stopped him. He'd been called Rogue since he was little, always having hated his birth name. Even Sting called him Rogue, and they'd been friends since birth. But for some reason, he didn't want her to call him Rogue. And he couldn't explain it at all, but that didn't change the fact that she was staring at him, probably hoping he would respond with his own introduction.
Finally, he said, "Ryos," then left the room, and the smiling blonde woman, behind while she changed.
It was nearing midnight by the time the eye wall hit them, and Rogue took Lucy, Plue, and Frosch into the hallway to ride out the worst of it. Just in case. Since the wind picked up even more just before the calm eye passed over them, he didn't want to chance them being out in the living room if one of the windows busted open. Percy had turned just enough to put them on the western side of the storm, so they didn't need to worry about tornadoes, at least, but this was still the safest place for them to be regardless.
He'd been surprised to find out that Lucy had kept her phone in a freezer bag since the rain began, because - as she'd told him - she was expecting flooding of biblical proportions, and she wanted to make sure her phone still worked when she finally landed somewhere so she could call an Uber.
But in the hours since she'd arrived on his doorstep, he'd actually found out that she was, in fact, a total lunatic. She seemed normal enough, but she said some of the strangest things.
"When the eye hits, I'm totally going outside," she said, peeking through the gap in their mattress wall to watch the television.
That was a prime example of the strange things she said. Except, he honestly didn't think she was lying. After having heard one story after another of her ridiculous adventures with her friends Natsu and Cobra - like breaking into the Twistee Treat ice cream shop that was literally built to look like a giant ice cream cone, all for a snack when they were closed, and somehow losing her pants in the process - he was inclined to think the woman was an adrenaline junkie. Either that or she just had no fear of being killed.
"You can't be serious." The look she gave him begged to differ. She really was serious. Dead serious.
"Super cereal."
He chuckled and shook his head, reaching down to pet Frosch when she mewled and crawled into his lap. "You do realize it still rains in the eye," he said. "You'll get wet again."
Lucy shrugged and sat back on her heels. "I'll go out there naked," she laughed. "Doesn't matter to me."
He really didn't want her doing that. Not just because they were practically strangers, but also because he'd unconsciously memorized the dangerous curves of her body when she'd been standing just inside his front door - her rain-soaked clothing clinging to her really hadn't left much to the imagination. And he knew that if a woman as beautiful as her started running around his backyard naked, he was going to have to hide in the bathroom for hours until his face returned to a normal shade of Oh god, it's a ghost! white.
They didn't talk about the eye again until it was really over them. And he could hear the difference in the way the wind died down and the rain almost completely stopped. There was no time to stop Lucy as she laughed and rushed to the back sliding door, unlocked it and threw it open, then literally jumped out of the grey plaid pajama pants he'd lent her before her bare feet touched the grass.
He followed her and stood just inside, watching the lunatic who had weaseled her way into his home frolic outside in the dark, with only one of his black tank tops covering her. Luckily for him, it reached past her hips and the swell of her rounded backside, because he'd seen the wet clothes she'd hung up in the master bathroom, and her sports bra and underwear were currently drying in his shower.
When his phone rang, he answered it without checking to see just who was calling him. "Yes?"
"Ryos, come on out," Lucy laughed, twirling in a circle. Her head tipped back and she opened her mouth to try catching the few droplets of water sprinkling down on her.
"Lucy, just because we're in the eye doesn't mean you should be outside."
"Ryos, I was calling to check on you," came Skiadrum's deep voice through the speaker. Rogue didn't really pay much attention to his father though when Lucy turned away from him and lifted the tank top she'd commandeered, baring her ass to him and her breasts to the world. Granted, no one was around to see it, but he just hadn't a clue what she was thinking.
"Just because it's the eye of the storm doesn't mean it can see you flashing it, Lucy," he laughed. She pulled the shirt back down, then grinned at him.
"Ryos, what on earth is going on down there?!"
"Hm?" Ah, he'd forgotten he was on the phone. "Apparently, my neighbor's dog ran out in the middle of the storm earlier, so she chased him down and took refuge on my porch. She's been here ever since." He really wasn't sure what did and didn't constitute a neighbor, exactly. Lucy lived across the street and two houses down. She was still technically his neighbor, by his standards. It wasn't like he'd ever met anyone in the neighborhood anyway.
"And this woman is now outside, flashing the storm?"
"Pretty much," he chuckled. At least she was coming back inside, smiling even brighter than before. "Are you finished playing in the hurricane now?"
Lucy giggled while pulling the pajama pants back on that she'd abandoned a few minutes prior. "Come on, Ryos. You can't tell me you don't want to literally fuck a hurricane. I'd do it, but I'm ill-equipped for dick windmills."
"Did she just say Dick Windmills?!"
Rogue snorted and shook his head at her. "I can't say that sounds appealing."
"Ryos, you've let a psych patient into your house! I'd say to call the cops, but they're not going anywhere right now in your area."
"You know you wanna do it," Lucy laughed, smiling up at Rogue as she came closer. "Go tell Percy to go fuck himself."
"Ryos, get out of there right now!"
Rogue shook his head again. There was no way he would be caught dead doing that. He didn't want to go outside in the storm, regardless of whether it was technically more tame right then. But a small part of him had to admit that it did look like fun. And if no one would see him but the woman who, he'd found out, was the same age as him… well, it wouldn't be that bad. How many times would he really have the opportunity to do this, anyway?
So, he simply handed her the phone with his dad still on the line and ran out into the yard. The wind had picked up just a little, which meant they didn't have long before it would be the second eye wall passing over them. That was all he needed though, so Rogue pulled down his pants and circled his hips just enough for his flaccid member to spin around. He wasn't going to admit to anyone that he'd ended up practicing how to do it in his spare time from boredom.
Once finished, he fixed his pants and ran back inside with a wide grin that matched Lucy's as she handed him the phone once again. Already, he couldn't believe he'd done something like that, something so ridiculously reckless and juvenile.
And when he put the phone up to his ear while they walked back inside and Lucy locked the sliding door once again, Rogue was positive that whatever mental disorder she had must have been rubbing off on him.
"So anyway," he said as though he'd done nothing out of the ordinary. "What did you need, Dad?"
"... Good God, son."
"What?"
Lucy snickered while walking toward the kitchen to grab the chips and dip he'd mentioned earlier in the night.
"Why is your ass so pale?"
Rogue's crimson eyes went wide. "Huh?" He knew that he was pale - he'd inherited it from his father, after all, and his lifestyle choice of always staying indoors really didn't give him many opportunities to get some semblance of a tan. But why would his father be bringing it up right then?
"She took a video and sent it to me. Your ass is… God, it's like a lighthouse, it's so white."
"She didn't…"
"She did," Skiadrum chuckled. "Ryos, I could find your bare ass in the middle of the night with full cloud cover!"
Lucy came back to the living room and set a bowl of tortilla chips on the coffee table between their cans of soda, then a smaller bowl of his spinach artichoke dip that he'd yet to open. She smiled when she saw Rogue's wide-eyed stare.
"Lucy, did you-"
"Take a video of your wiggly booty and send it to your dad?" she asked with a smirk. "Of course I did."
"Can I ask why?"
"Because I'm sure he's worried about you," she said. "I figured that was the easiest way to reassure him that you're absolutely fine, and there's nothing to worry about."
He couldn't stop himself from chuckling over that, even though he was entirely mortified. It didn't help that he could hear Sting laughing in the background over the video. "Dad, just make sure that doesn't get put online."
"I'm making no promises, son. But I'll let you go. Enjoy yourself."
Rogue's eyes narrowed in suspicion, and he sat on the couch beside Lucy. That was easier than he'd thought. There was no rambling about who in the world this Lucy woman was, and no questions about how long he'd wait before marrying her. Instead, his father simply hung up and Rogue dropped the phone to the table.
"Your dad's nice," Lucy said around a mouthful of food.
"You think so?" He looked over at her only to find her mouth full and her cheeks puffed out as though she was a chipmunk, her lips pursed while she tried to keep her mouth closed, and the corners still pulled up into a small smile. She nodded and continued chewing while pulling her long-dried hair up into a messy bun on top of her head.
He still questioned her sanity, for a great number of reasons, but it had been a long time since Rogue had really done something so out of the norm. He was a creature of habit, and Lucy… Well, she didn't really strike him as the type of person to do the same thing twice.
It was just a little endearing, if he was being completely honest.
I started writing this while Hurricane Irma was battering the Caribbean and Florida back in early September 2017. I was on hiatus at the time, and ended up putting it down for months. Then, I was asked by one of my clients to write an article about horse farms down in Puerto Rico, and while interviewing someone who's created a movement in Miami to gather supplies for these farms, I was reminded of this story.
I was also on the verge of sobbing while hearing about the damage Hurricanes Irma and Maria caused down there. My thoughts go to those who are still affected by this past hurricane season.
Because I live in Florida, I took a lot of inspiration for this particular story from my own experience during Hurricane Irma... And from all the hurricanes I've hunkered down for since I was a little kid. We were fortunate enough not to have gotten any really horrible damage in my area this time around.
Also, Gran Doma's speech is almost a direct quote of one of Florida Governor Rick Scott's many (many many many) speeches during Hurricane Irma. I had to re-watch some of the news reports that aired for the reporters talking. I hope you all enjoyed it. Keep an eye out for chapter 2 at some point in the future.