i like the snow

Chapter Seven

Going under

Pathetic. I was utterly pathetic. How can I be so stupid, and let Lucy see how Gajeel beat me up? Well, it was only a slap, but still. I am the most pathetic person alive.

And to think I was going there to make her like me… I just ended up having her help me with the swelling. Yup, the only word I can think of that describes my situation perfectly is… pathetic.

"Are you gonna eat that?" Gray mumbled between two bites of his sandwich, having food drop out from his mouth on to the table in the kitchen.

"Uh, gross," I replied, stuffing my own face with the steak my maid had made, "of course I'm gonna eat it though." We were at my place, having dinner and playing video games, because I had been all alone and bored out of my mind. Gray, who lived with his brother Lyon, was happy to get out of the house though, and he often came here.

"So what's this about some bookworm club or whatever?" He muttered, and noticing my surprised expression, added "I heard from Gajeel."

I rolled my eyes, but explained everything nonetheless. Gray listened eagerly to my story, nodding every now and then, and adding his own comments and remarks in between bites of his food, interested in how the story was progressing. I felt a bit dumb while explaining how Gajeel had slapped me and Lucy had to intervene, and Gray laughed loudly at that part, not helping me feel better about myself. Ugh, pathetic.

When I was done, and all the cards were on the table, he simply mumbled a "nobody's perfect", and even that tiny moment of encouragement was enough for me to get those negative thoughts out of my head. Sure, he was an idiot who I argued with most of the time, but when the going gets tough, he's always here for me.

"Dude, the way you're looking at me with thankful watery eyes makes me feel sorry I ever said anything."

Well, most of the time.

And because I was a spoiled brat who didn't even know how to put away the dishes, we left the dirty plates and crumbs on the table for my maid to clean up, and sat down in my living room. Gray grabbed one of my laptops and sat down to play some music. I was about to turn on the TV to see if there was something worth watching, when he interrupted me.

"Hey Natsu get me something sweet." When the look on my face explained that I don't have any clue what he was talking about, he settled for telling me that he wanted a chocolate bar or something.

I got up unwillingly to find something sweet to give him, but was stopped by the sudden grunt of surprise I heard coming from my beloved guest.

"Uh dude," he called out to me, even though I hadn't even left the room yet, "I think you'll wanna see this."

Disregarding his statement and filing it under 'things he thinks I care about when I actually don't', I rolled my eyes discreetly behind his back, and made my way to the kitchen, ignoring his shouting from the other room.

I surveyed the cupboards, rummaging through the canned soups and canned pineapples that nobody ever eats but we still have for some reason. I dug in the drawers, marveling at all the different kinds of pasta I somehow owned, thanking the universe that I didn't make my own food because I'd probably starve to death.

I finally grabbed hold of some sort of chocolate bar, and returned to my starving friend who only ate like a few minutes ago.

"Fuck that", Gray yelled, slapping my hard-earned chocolate bar from my hands, "And just take a look at this!"

I didn't even spare a glance towards the computer screen and instead took the liberty of angrily shouting back at him, "Hey you jerk! I worked with blood, sweat and tears to find you that piece of shit, and I'm going to feed it to you if I have to, but you are going to fucking eat it!"

"As much as I appreciate the romantic feeding gesture, I strongly advise you to look at this."

Imagining Gray's death, and planning a few ways to make it so, I unwillingly looked at the computer screen, not expecting to see anything that I'd care about. I could see his facebook profile was on, and he was looking at some picture with two blonde people smiling. Wait a second. Wait two seconds.

That was Lucy! And Sting too! They're both looking into the camera, and Sting's smile is reaching his ears. How the hell did that bastard even get her to take a picture? I've asked her countless times but she always declines and doesn't let me argue. And he just took a picture with her no questions asked?

Gray took the chocolate bar he had previously thrown to the floor, and opened the wrapper to feast on the sweetness it held, shaking his head left and right in a disapproving gesture. "Tsk tsk, I never saw this one coming."

"No shit, Sherlock." I retorted, ignoring my wish to slap the innocent man across the face, and instead settled myself with glaring at the hateful picture. "Where are they, though?"

Sting was holding some sort of plate or whatever, but I couldn't see what was on it since it was wrapped in some cooking-aid shit or whatever. And then I saw it, the all too familiar door in front of which I had waited countless of morning for my girl to exit, and countless of nights for her to return from wherever she had been.

They were in front of her house, and clearly he was leaving, which meant he had been in there.

But what angered me most was not the fact that he had been in that private sanctuary only few may have granted access to, but was the sole fact that his hand was easily draped across my Lucy's shoulder like it belonged there.

I knew that action had to be taken right then and there. So, ignoring Gray's confused looks as I grabbed my other laptop and logged in, I bombarded her inbox with various messages. Then I remembered that she still hadn't accepted my friend request, so I decided for some foul play and looked Gray straight in the eyes.

"Oh no," he mumbled, swallowing the last bite of his chocolate, "This doesn't look good."

And several arguments and fights later, I had managed to persuade him to ask Juvia for Lucy's number. I used to have her old one—which I also somehow found out—but she changed it recently due to some "stalker" who kept bothering her with messages. I wonder who that was.

So, seeing as though she wasn't going to reply to me on facebook, I took matter into my own hands and exploded her phone with messages. First of all, I was super worried about the fact that he went to her house, and sent her two dozen messages about how she was, and if everything was alright. Then when I got that out of the way, I sent her the picture in case she hadn't seen it—which I highly doubt—and waited for the reply.

Which of course, never came.

"I'm telling you man, he must've stalked her or something." Gray kept trying to reassure me the next morning as we were walking towards the shop she now worked in. I knew she worked there after school, but since it was Saturday, the chances of her being there were pretty low. But I still had to try.

"He stalked her?" I threw back his words, "What an animal."

He cocked an eyebrow, "Are you for real?"

But I lost my will to respond the minute we stopped in front of the shop. I was about to enter when I saw a familiar patch of blonde hair behind the glass door. And it wasn't the blonde hair I had been thinking about all morning. But instead—

"Oh my god, it's Sting," Gray voiced my thoughts as we watched him leave the bookstore, coming just inches in front of my face before he stopped himself, a look of surprise and confusion plastered on his pretty-boy face.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, as though it was the most natural thing for him to be here, and weird for me.

"We could ask you the same thing," Gray once again spoke out what I was thinking, as the surprise had stopped my mouth from speaking.

"Well if you must know," he waved his hand in a disapproving notion, "I came here to talk to Lucy and ask if she still has the scarf I forgot at her place." He stopped for a moment, curving his lips into a smug smile, "Because I went to her place." His hand shot up again, to run it through his hair like the princess he was, "She totally invited me in."

"After you knocked her door down?" My friend had once more given a comeback in my place. Sting noticed that as well.

"What's the matter Dragneel? Cat got your tongue?" He smirked, but I still couldn't reply. It's like my mind went blank from anger. The only thing I could think of right now was not killing him on the spot. I concentrated on Lucy's face in my head, and even though I was angry at her right now, the thought of her still managed to calm me down.

"Where are you going now?" I asked, even though I already had a good guess in my head.

"To her place to get my scarf." He said, confirming what I had known to be true.

"That seems like a pretty pathetic excuse to see her again," Gray's voice rose up once more, "I bet you left it there on purpose."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Sting brought his hands up to his chest, as if defending himself from something, "Why are you ganging up on me like this? If you wanna fight, I'll settle this here and now. I could take you both down in a matter of seconds."

I have never heard a more tempting offer. My fists clenched and my body tensed up, ready to pounce at him and ripping his head apart from his body. I cracked the bones on my neck, rotating it 360, and took a step forward, inviting him to make the first move. We were in public, surrounded by people, but I couldn't care less. The only thing on my mind right now was beating this asshole to a pulp, and that offer seemed too sweet to miss.

He put his hands into his pockets as if this were no threat to him at all, but tensed up nonetheless. Which would be the best spot to hit him first?

"Alright, alright you filthy peacocks," Gray suddenly stepped in between, placing his hands on Sting's shoulders, "Step away from each other and tone down your egos a bit." He started lightly shoving him towards the opposite direction of me, turning his head around to motion me to leave. "Now Sting, I have to tell you about my sister. She saw your profile in her suggested friends and just couldn't take her mind off of you, and when I said I knew you, she just had to make me talk to you about it."

"Wh-what?" Sting was a bit confused, but picked up his posture real quick, "I mean, of course she likes me." They started a conversation about it, and I slowly walked backwards so I could get to Lucy's house with to interruptions. I had to hurry though, so I got up on the bike we rode here, and drove away before Sting could figure out that Gray was just bluffing, and his sister was not real.

He's the real MVP.

After a few minutes of knocking and ringing the doorbell, I was finally about to give in and maybe try to brake the door down. I had been standing here of at least 10 minutes, and it was more than obvious that she wasn't home. But I couldn't just leave a note or something, because I had to ask her in person.

I crouched down in front of the wooden door, looking for ways to pick the damn lock, when I heard footsteps approach me from behind. My head turned sideways so I could run if it was a threatening person or a confused neighbor. But what stared back at me were the prettiest brown eyes I had ever seen.

"Uh, hey," I mumbled, not quite sure what the right wording is for when you get caught trying to break into someone's house. "What are you doing here?"

"That should be my line!" She shouted, hey eyes widening in… fear? What? Did I read that wrong?

"Are you… afraid?"

"Of course I'm afraid!" She yelled back, confusing me even more, "I helped one guy out, and next thing I know, everyone suddenly thinks we're dating!"

"You're not?" I asked, barely hiding my excitement.

"We most certainly aren't. I'm not looking for a relationship right now." She replied, struggling with the bags I hadn't noticed she was carrying. I was going to suggest I help her with it, when I noticed something cool and damp land on my forehead. Snow? I tuned back to face her, but she was suddenly staring into the sky, a redness enveloping her cheeks. She half-smiled, looking as though she would reach out to touch the snowflakes if her hands weren't full. "Snow huh," she smiled for real this time, shaking her head as the blush deepened, "Sting said it would snow."

Some small piece inside of me broke.

I tried rising to my feet, but was unable to do so. Looking down at my hands, I couldn't bear to see her delighted expression like that once again. I didn't want any kind words and nostalgic looks directed at anyone but me. I almost felt physical pains in my chest, as I looked up again to where she was standing.

The snow started piling up, the snowflakes multiplying in numbers, overtaking the air. I watched her puff out a cloud of hot air, as her eyes got that dreamy look I get when I look at her. Why aren't you looking at me, Lucy?

Repulsion.

Hatred.

Anger.

Those were the feelings bubbling up inside of me as I watched those unworthy snowflakes land on her head. How dare those impure drops of frozen water get more attention than me? I suddenly saw the snow as the dirtiest thing on the planet just because it reminded her of Sting. I used to love the whiteness and the joy, the holiday spirit and the snowmen, but all those emotions shifted in just a second.

She had such power over me, eternal control. Absolute domination.

She could make me drop to my knees and kiss her feet with just a snap of her fingers, and yet I was so powerless against her. Those who said love is war have clearly never seen one. A war is fought with weapons on both sides, and how am I supposed to win when she has all the ammunition?

Do I even want to win? Or is just being by her side enough for me to settle for?

"Get in." I turned around, before realizing that the stern voice that spoke was in fact my own. She finally looked at me, but not with admiration. She was confused. What right did I have to boss her around? But I couldn't stand watching the snow fall on her, that same disgusting white crap that Sting told her of. "Get. The fuck. Inside."

I couldn't control my words or actions, as I finally got up and started walking towards her. She hurriedly left her bags on the ground, rummaging through her bag as she got her keys out, and fumbled with the lock. But just before entering and slamming the door in my face, I could catch one last look on her face. She wasn't confused anymore.

She actually feared me.

Half an hour. I have been sitting in front of her doorstep for half an hour without moving, and had no plans for leaving whatsoever. Sting might show up soon, but I didn't care. Some neighbor might report me to the police, but I didn't care.

Did I just ruin that 0,01% chance I had with her? Why did I rush her inside? Did she catch on to me? To be honest, I never really honestly told her how I felt, I just kind of though she caught on. But then why didn't she reject me? Or why didn't she try to flirt with me, or something? I she knows she has a 100% chance with me, why isn't she using it? It means she's not interested. It means I should give up.

I got up to leave, remembering that I hadn't even asked her why Sting was at her house in the first place, but it was too lake for that now. Time to give up.

Except, I just can't.

I raised my hand to knock on the door, but it just simply touched the wooden surface, sticking to it like glue, as though something inside of me was telling me that I had caused enough damage for today. I couldn't knock, but I couldn't leave either.

"The library."

I tensed up. That was her voice. Was I imaging things?

"Tomorrow, around five o'clock, I'll be at the town's Library."

No doubt about it. She was speaking at me through the door. I felt the blood rush though all my veins and arteries, and I suddenly worried if my heart would be able to handle all that pressure. How did she even know I was here? Well, that doesn't matter one bit.

"I'll," I released a breath of hot air that evaporated into a cloud of mist, "I'll be there."

Author's Notes: Arghhh Natsu why you so emotional?!

I was so hard to portray this type of attitude through a character who's mostly happy all of the time.

I hope you guys enjoyed what I worked a lot for, and I really hope it meets your expectations for now.

Thank you for reading, and please leave a review, because it pains me to see that nobody cares enough to reply. It feels as though this story doesn't have much readers, so I don't try to update so often :/

ty

~With Keys, Through Flames! Aye!~