Hello... This is awkward. I could give a slew of excuses as to why I stopped posting but in all honestly it boils down to: I HAVE TERRIBLE TRASH PERSON HABITS. To those who were kind enough to care about this story and wait for an update, I am incredibly grateful for you, and I am also incredibly sorry. I won't make any more promises, but after reading over my story again I'm excited to continue for now :)

Please enjoy. And again, I'm sorry .

Maybe it was because he was secretly a very sentimental person inside. Maybe it was because mystery books were his favorite genre. Maybe it was because he missed her. Maybe it was all of those things, but Rogue Cheney now carried a crumpled sticky note in his pocket wherever he went.

Lucy still hadn't come by for a couple weeks after that brief (and to Lucy, unknown,) sighting, but Rogue still held onto the note. And honestly...

he felt pretty fucking creepy about it.

...But that feeling couldn't overpower the need he felt to hold onto it, so he continued in his creepy-ass habit. In the time of her absence, he's slowly forgotten how she was. The faint details in both her appearance and her way of being were fading from his memory, and, frankly, it scared him. It's not like he was torn up over her disappearance, nor was she on his mind constantly. But she did begin to worm her merry way into his heart (god, it sounded corny like that), and he did miss her.

So he kept the note around. To him, it proves against his fading memory that she existed.

...although his need to justify it made him feel even creepier.

Rogue shuddered under his umbrella, both from his brutal self-evaluation and from the biting rain. He and Orga were making their way home from a late-night chem lab, and Rogue hadn't prepared for the storm (that he knew was coming) aside from the presence of his old, time-beaten umbrella that he fished out of his hellish storage closet the night before.

Orga, on the other hand, was looking mighty comfortable. He was a bear of a man who was also covered adequately for both the wind and rain. When they had first left the lab, Orga offered to let Rogue use his raincoat which Rogue had refused, saying that it really was his fault that he hadn't been prepared for the storm in the first place. The minute they left shelter he regretted that decision.

"FUCK!" He screamed uncharacteristically, half due to the thoughts swirling in his head and half due to the feeling of pure STORM that had worked its way deep into his bones. He wrapped his arms, donned in a much too thin coat, tightly around his body as he trudged on against the vile wild.

Orga's booming laughter resounded around them. God of lightning was a fitting title. He looked right at home in the storm. Orga set a heavy hand onto Rogue's shoulder and pushed him on.

"We're almost at your place. I see it up ahead. Red brick, right?" Orga yelled over the wind. Rogue narrowly dodged what looked like a squirrel as it blew past him on the wind, then he focused his eyes ahead. Rogue smiled, seeing the familiar apartment complex not 100 feet away.

"Yes!"

"Shit." Rogue spat under his breath as he walked into the lobby of his building. He'd never experienced a storm quite like that. He tore off his gloves and kicked off his boots, smacking both on the rug in front of the glass double doors to try (hopelessly) to get the water off of them. After about fifteen seconds, he growled lowly at his lack of progress.

"Wow, you really hate the cold 'n' rain, huh?"

Rogue forgot about Orga. How rude of him. He chastised himself before turning to the taller man.

"Yeah, sorry," He said quietly, his earlier anger at the storm ebbing away in favor of embarrassment. Orga smiled as he took off his raincoat and jacket. He ground his boots on the rug as he replied, "Don't worry. That was rough out there. I don't blame you." Rogue's face remained neutral, but his gratitude shone in his eyes. Orga caught it easily, to Rogue's great pleasure.

"Bring your things, I'll show you up," Rogue said quietly as he gathered his garments he had shed. He sent a nod in greeting to the front desk manager and ascended a flight of stairs to his second floor apartment.

"This is a pretty nice place for a college student, isn't it?" Orga said, looking around as they walked.

"I transferred here from another place. I had high marks there so I was brought here on a scholarship. Classes are cheap for me, so I can afford a nicer place."

Orga nodded that he heard Rogue as Rogue unlocked the door to his apartment. He curled his arm around the door frame and flicked on the lights, depositing his keys onto a key rack right inside his door as he did so. The lights lit up to reveal a head of blonde hair. Not the good kind though, mind you.

"Sting."

"Oii It's Rogue!" Sting chirped from his spot on Rogue's couch. Sting flashed him a grin and a wave, only to be rewarded with Rogue's boot in his face.

"Hey what the fuck, Rogue! Aren't you glad to see me?!" Sting yelled, nursing his face.

"Not really," came Rogue's blunt reply as he showed Orga were to put his things. As Orga derobed, Rogue crossed the room into his kitchen.

"Orga, this is Sting Eucliffe. Sting, Orga Nanagear." Rogue said as he assembled himself a pot of coffee. (as he was always and ever the addict)

"Hey."

"Yo. Hey Rogue, where'd you find this hunk of man?" Sting called into the kitchen, never letting his eyes fall off of Orga.

"Sorry, straight as a nail," Orga chuckled with a wave of his hands as he settled himself in a kitchen chair. ("You want any?" / "Sure. Cream, no sugar, please.")

Sting purred, "Better watch your choice of words." He winked. Rogue's eye roll could be felt through the whole room.

"You're taken, Sting. Yukino, remember?" Rogue sighed as he handed Sting his usual hot chocolate. Rogue crossed over to Orga, handing him his coffee before collapsing in the chair next to him.

"Oh yes, my darling!" Sting swooned, his thoughts taken completely off of the god of lightning. "Speaking of which! She's comin to visit in a couple weeks, once her residency period's up. She gets a break period before the new semester begins. Shit! Speaking of Yukino, I told her I'd call her before she went to bed! Sorry Rogue!" Sting called as he jumped off the couch and ran out the door to his apartment across the hall, leaving a shell-shocked Rogue behind.

Orga whistled. "He's pretty out there, ain't he?" He said, swirling his pointer finger in an imaginary spiral. Rogue wilted in his chair and sipped his coffee languidly.

"Yep." Rogue said with a pop. He sighed.

Orga took a cab home early the next morning. He had a class at nine while Rogue had the day off. ("Thank God for that, because if he didn't, Rogue was sure to kill a bitch" Sting would say.)

After sending Orga off from the lobby, Rogue was fully ready to retreat back into his lair to waste the day away in front of his fireplace with his laptop and a pot of coffee. That is, until he sees a familiar figure clad in a black top, white sorts, and brown boots standing in front of his building.

"Lucy!" He can't keep himself from yelling it as he shoves oven the glass double doors and rushes out to her. He wears a smile on his face at the sight of the enigmatic blonde until he nears closer. Rogue just barely has time to register her soaking wet form and flickering eyes before shes falling unconscious into his arms.

The next chapter is almost done. Sorry that this one is short, Im getting into the flow again.