Author's Note: I should stop prowling through this site. All I do is get inspiration when I have other things I need to do.
Precious
He'd always felt like there was an incurable emptiness within him.
Since that day, he'd been left alone in the world like a child stranded in the dark without a light to guide him; like he was braving a labyrinth without a lifeline. He'd traveled the country alone for, obscured in the darkness of the shadows and basking in the chilling cold that was loneliness, for that was all the world seemed to offer.
Then he met him, a strange little creature with rusty fur. He had quickly taken up residence in his heart, at first like a pet he'd always wanted, but as time passed, it developed into something more, something precious. He was what he'd needed, a friend at his side, a partner to fill the void in his being.
Months melded into years and he began to grow older. His strength increased as did their relationship. Before he knew it, the creature had become his best friend. He promised to protect him, to prove to those who'd tormented him that his words were true, that his best friend had killed a dragon.
But now…he couldn't face him.
He didn't want to, knowing he had let him down. No matter how many times he'd said he was proud of him, he still couldn't do it. He could not bring himself to face his cat, his best friend, knowing he had broken his promise.
He felt weak, pathetic, as he sat at the edge of his bed, ignoring the pleas of his friend. His stomach turned. For so many years he had looked forward to this day, the day he surpassed his idol, but it had gone horribly wrong. He'd underestimated Natsu Dragneel, he'd overestimated himself. He'd lost, utterly and completely.
And Jemmina was furious.
For the first time in years, Sting was genuinely afraid. Yukino had been let off lightly, even if it hadn't seemed as such, but he knew that the Master would be less than lenient with him; this was the second time he failed. There would be no more chances. His days as a member of Fiore's strongest guild were as good as done.
And not only that, but he had dragged Rogue down with him.
Anger surged inside him; not anger at the Master, but anger at himself. Could he do nothing right?
He spared a glance at his partner. He had fallen asleep, given up on convincing him not to beat himself up over a loss -and in that moment he could swear he heard his heart break. A single tear had fallen from his eyes, wetting his fur as it streaked down his face. Lector never cried; the Exceed hadn't shed a tear since the day Sting promised him he'd prove that he wasn't a liar.
Regret, hatred, anger, and hurt swirled within him, fighting for dominance. The need to punch something bubbled within him and he was certain that if he didn't get a hold of himself, he may just blow the wall off his room. It wasn't like him to lose his temper, but the weight of the world seemed like it had fallen onto his shoulders in that moment.
With a crestfallen look, he muttered an apology to his closest friend and shook him away. As soon as everyone was gathered, he'd have to face his punishment.