A/N: quick note, the definition of rapture that I'm using in the title is "feeling of intense joy or pleasure" not the second coming of Christ...

just wanted to clear that up in case anyone thought otherwise. Hope you enjoy!

Lucy, in her own mind, knew she was a girl with many different talents. It wasn't an arrogant piece of knowledge, she didn't feel extraordinarily proud of it, given it was the privilege she was born into that made it quite easy for her, but it was a fact and she acknowledged it as just that. She also knew she was pretty. It had been said to her a thousand times by a thousand people at a thousand mind numbing parties. The teenager didn't exactly take pride in it but she was glad she had been gifted with her mom's looks.

Lucy Heartfilia was smart, kind, easy going, and obedient. She had to be. Her father was a well-known CEO of an outrageously successful company, one she had been told over and over she would have to succeed, and the kind of lifestyle she led was one that required tact and intelligence.

The world was practically at her feet if she wanted it. Her brain was up for the task, her beauty would ensure a husband later down the line, so she'd been told, and her mouth was armed with charmed words that could win over any competitor. Her life was text book perfect, one that many people would probably and seriously kill to have, yet there was a question in the back of her mind that begged an answer. Every time she smiled at a stranger during one of her father's parties, it nagged. Every time she put her smarts to use and came up with a great answer, it cried. Every time she saw her "perfect" father, the image of her dead mother flashed in her mind. The question, small as it was, was loud and annoying. The sound of it just grew larger and larger everyday like a wailing monster that hadn't been fed in years.

And one night when Lucy Heartfilia was feeling especially lonely, the night of her nineteenth birthday that had been forgotten, she finally spoke the question-

"Why am I not happy?"

Lucy had read it would be liberating if one were to speak their worries or problems aloud, but if anything she had only found it made her feel worse. Instead of liberating her from her troubles, it sent her scrambling for an answer. She hadn't acknowledged it before, she didn't want to, but now that she had the deafening presence of something being severely wrong, it pulled on her mind like two teams relentlessly playing tug-of-war.

It was the night of July 1st, the night of a birthday long forgotten by her dad, that Lucy had decided to make a change.

She sat up in her bed, a humongous thing that could probably fit about five people on it, clad in her pajamas and patted her hand all around her pillow until she found her phone to check the time. It was about seven in the evening, a little early to be going to bed she knew, but her mood hadn't exactly been welcoming to idle chat from her butlers and maids. They were the only ones who had acknowledged what day it was, and even though she appreciated their thoughtfulness, it had never been enough.

Lucy edged closer to the foot of her bed, and let her feet dangle off the end, the cold air swishing around her ankles. There was still time for her to go to her father's office. Maybe she could tell him and maybe he might not get angry… She scoffed at herself. The last time she had tried to remind him of her birthday had been when she was still a child. The only thing that had come from that attempt was a ruined rice ball and broken feelings.

It was only fair that she wanted recognition from her dad on her birthday though, right? It wasn't a burden, was it? What kind of father wouldn't remember their own kids' birthday?

The girl slid off her bed and let her feet touch the ground, her head hanging down, "If mom were h-"

Lucy cut the sentence short, eyes wide and shocked at her own mouth.

No. No, no, no, you're not doing this today. You aren't going to break apart on your own birthday.

She strode over to her bathroom door and swung it open, turning the faucet on as soon as she got to her sink. Hopefully some cold water would help her calm down.

A long time ago Lucy had sworn off that sentence. Being that the logical side of her knew it was useless to think about, and the emotional side of her knew that thinking about it would tear her apart. Her mother's death had never been brought up once since it happened, and she didn't dare ask anyone about it. The result of the silence though, is that her feelings never had an out. There had been no words exchanged between her and her father, no comfort, nothing.

And the teenage Lucy thought she liked it that way.

What use was there yearning for someone that had been out of her life for more than nine years? What good would come of wanting to talk about someone who was gone and had no hope of consoling her now? Why did she want to? Why did she want her mother so bad when she could hardly stand to think about her?

Lucy gripped the sides of her sink, forgetting to turn the faucet off, forgetting what she had sworn, and let a surprisingly loud sob rip from her throat, "If only mom were here…"

And like a dam was broken, her tears began to spill out of her eyes and down her cheeks, all the way past her nose and chin, falling on her knees. The sensation startled her.

Ah? When had she sat down?

The girl found herself sitting against her tub, with legs curled up against her chest. A common position she used nowadays.

It was odd, she thought, how a single sentence could completely ruin a person. How even the most insignificant order of words could mean so much to someone. And they were insignificant, she knew, the words she had just spoken. They meant nothing and would gain her nothing. She knew this. She knew it. Her father had scolded her child self so many times for trying to further these thoughts with him. He told her it was useless and she should know that. And she did know it.

She knew. She knew, she knew, she knew.

But who was she kidding? She didn't know anything.

Lucy Heartfilia had never understood why it was so wrong to want to talk about her mother. It was her mother for Christ sake, so why was it that she felt like she was committing a crime when asking about her? Why did the very mention of her mother's name send her father flying off the handle? What made him so angry? Why… did her father never look her in the eye anymore?

Pitiful…

It was pitiful… Anyone would think she was pitiful. A girl slumped against a tub in her pajamas with messy hair and tears streaming down her face was no way for a "young lady of her stature" to act. If someone saw her now it would only cause commotion. Commotion that would surely get back to her dad-

She snapped out of it then.

Her legs carried her body upward and back toward her sink. She stuck her hands under the water and threw some on her face, hoping to erase any sign of crying from her eyes. Her father couldn't find out about this. She didn't know what he'd do, assuming he even cared, if he found out.

"God…" she sighed to herself, shutting the sink off, "What the hell am I doing…?"

The girl clicked her bathroom light off and went back into her room, stopping for a moment just beside her bed… "What am I doing?"

Lucy asked herself that question, not fully knowing what she meant until a few seconds later it hit her.

The teenagers' brain went into what felt like overdrive as she began to process a new set of information she hadn't bothered, or had been too scared, to think about before. There was no real reason for her to be in that house. She was already nineteen years old, a legal adult; she could do anything she wanted.

Anything she wanted.

A small, genuine smile spread on her face for the first time in over nine years and an odd sensation that she hadn't realized was "hope" spread all over her body.

There was no real reason for her to do what her father wanted.

There was nothing stopping her but herself from leaving and never having to be afraid of what she might do wrong ever again.

She darted across the room, only half aware of her actions.

There was no reason for her to feel like absolute shit. No reason she should have to stay in that miserable place she'd been calling home.

Frantically, her hands opened her drawer and began stuffing shirts, pants, skirts, dresses, and lingerie into a suitcase- If she didn't act on this weird high she was on now, she'd be too afraid to do it later.

What was she doing exactly?

She was actually going to run away from home.

A hysterical laugh left her mouth. It couldn't even be called running away anymore. She was an adult. She could've left when she was eighteen if she had thought about it. For a moment she mentally slapped herself for not doing so sooner. It could've saved her an extra year of emotional strain…

Once she was done packing her things, if that sorry excuse for shoving items into a suitcase could be called packing, she ran over to her closet to grab shoes next. What she owned were mostly heels, expensive little things she had actually enjoyed buying, but she also had her fair share of sensible shoes as well. Her favorites were actually a pair of leather boots with no real heel to speak of. Her father had obviously disapproved, saying they look ratty and she should never be seen in something as "poor looking as those", but she liked them and bought them in secret. To be honest, it was one of the biggest acts of defiance she'd ever committed.

And now she was going to commit the biggest one yet.

When she had grabbed her stash of money she'd collected over the years, doing jobs here and there for the company, everything she needed was finally in her hands.

Quickly, she went over a mental list she had just made up:

Clothes? Check

Underwear? Check

Shoes? Check

Photos?

…check

Money? Check

Electronics…?

Her head swiveled around and she realized she hadn't grabbed her phone or her laptop. She quickly gathered both things and went back to her list.

Electronics? Check~

Food? Don't need it. I'll get something on my way.

Wait- did I even change yet?

Lucy looked down and then slapped herself on the head, "Okay Lucy. You're just gonna leave in your pj's right? Get it together."

Finally, once she had changed there was nothing else she needed, she was set. Now all that was left to do was leave a note. The girl grabbed a pen and a piece of paper she had out on her desk and tried to think of something suitable for the situation.

Hmmm…?

"Fuck you dad, I'm out?"

She'd seen it in a movie once and it seemed very effective…

"you scumbag-?"

No, no. I need something that'll throw him off my case for a while… something that makes him think I'm not really leaving for good…

Ah! She mentally gasped, I got it.

The pen steadied in her hand as she wrote the following-

"Dear father,

I'm leaving for a while. I've noticed that I'm not knowledgeable of the world outside ours. My experience is very poor compared to yours and I'm finding myself dissatisfied with how little I've seen and done. I'll only be gone for a short while, and I figured I could do this of my own free will now that I'm nineteen. I have money, I know where I'm going," which was a complete lie. She had no idea where she would go yet. "and I'll try to make something of myself. In the time I'm away I'll do something worthy of the Heartfilia name. I didn't want to bother you, as you are a busy man, so I'll leave this note and let you do your work. I know you may be angered by this, but it is something I need to do as someone who is going to succeed you one day.

Accordingly,

Lucy Heartfilia."

Oh man, he'll eat this up like his favorite piece of accounting information.

Lucy giggled to herself in light of her joke, joking not being something she got to do often.

With a final dot on her letter, she sealed the thing shut inside an envelope and signed "TO JUDE HEARTFILIA" on the front.

She was finally ready.

Finally, she would get to leave it all behind and start somewhere new.

Lucy didn't know where she was headed as she left her room and made her way out of the mansion, thankful no one had seen her, but what she did know was that she'd never need to feel guilty about crying to herself again. She was going to be free of broken relationships, and wasn't going to let anything have control of her ever again.

As she walked past all the cars, and fancy fountains, she blew a kiss to her mother's grave, which was more accurately described as a statue, and began on the road that led away from their family estate. The tears she had begun to shed only worsened the further the got from her home.

It's okay. She lied to herself.

I'll be fine. None of this can bother me anymore. Once I leave… all of this will be behind me.

Lucy Heartfilia was going to live whatever kind of life she wanted. The young woman of nineteen years old was going to be completely in control for once.

Or so she had thought.

Little did she know that some miles away, far from where she was now, a young man of also nineteen, with rosy pink hair, was a like storm waiting to happen. And that storm was going to lift her up into the air and never let her down.