Two questions I want to ask briefly; do you review and expect a reply or do you review just for the sake of reviewing? And when you do get a reply, do you reply back or just leave it and ignore it?

I realized, most of these chapters start with someone saying something. Darn.

Anyways, sorry for making you guys wait for such a long time- the project I volunteered for Chinese Grad like a year ago came back to haunt me and I've been working on just that for the past week. I'm still not done as I still need pictures by a few lazy people but yeah... Just so you people know why I'm behind once again.

Also, I know this fic is canonically wrong, but I won't bother going back fixing anything because I sort of think they're small details anyways and have nothing to do with the actual plot of 'Fool's Gold'. I started writing this when the 7YL / Games Arc just started; it's obviously going to be wrong in some places where I had to improvise…

Sting was glaring at me when I finally looked up from my drink.

I let out a small squeak as I muttered a small apology for the umpteenth time and went back to stirring my drink awkwardly. He only grumbled and with a grunt, swung his leg up and connected it with mine. I let out a muffled scream as my leg hit the small table between us and slouched beside my drink muttering a dark "I said I was sorry" as the white dragon slayer chuckled across from me.

I bet people were looking at us weird now.

A short hour had passed since the end of Day 2's games and Sting, for whatever reason, had decided to drag me out to this small restaurant and squish us into some tiny booth.

So here I was, sitting together with the white dragon slayer. Alone

Not even Lector was with us.

It was almost like a date.

Another blush crept onto my cheeks as I hid my head behind my hands.

Why do I always think of the worst things at the wrong times?

It was just a friendly outing, I kept saying to myself. Sting would never go out with me; especially when he had someone he liked...

"You did well during the games," I looked back up to see him scratching his head, "I didn't think you had it in you."

"You were good too," I smiled and giggled at the memory. Sting only scoffed, before he began drumming his fingers on the table as we slipped into another awkward silence.

I think he stopped being moody the moment Yukino had lost her match against Kagura. When we had returned back to the viewing area, the first thing Sting had done was drag me out with him, not sparring a second glance to Yukino as the announcer announced the end of today's games.

He didn't say a word when we were coming here either, I realized, he was walking in such an angry gait that I had to run awkwardly behind him as he crushed my hand in his. He might've given me a bruise actually... it was still kind of sore.

He must've lost some steam while walking too, I thought and looked at him curiously to see he was shuffling around his pockets now. I don't think he was going to snap anything soon.

I slouched against the table once again and stared out onto the Crocasian streets from the open air window beside me; the streets had just started to repopulate and stores had began to open for business. I almost forgot the Games greatly affected the small shops here during this season. But then again, there was the tourist factor that you had to consider; so it mustn't have been that great of a loss. Ah, who was I kidding?

Man, those council members really screwed up while calculating this year's budget for the Games...

Speaking of council members... I wonder how-

"You coming, bunny girl?" I snapped out of my daze and quickly jumped out of my seat to stand next to the dragon slayer. He must've given up on counting his coins again, I noticed, he left a whole coin pouch for something that could've easily been ten gold coins.

I quickly followed him out of the small restaurant before someone came chasing after us; Sting had a habit of doing that actually. Leaving a whole thing of coins without actually looking at the price- couldn't blame him though. Some of the jobs Gemma sent him and Rogue on could've easily round up to a regular man's life savings. He was pretty well off.

I was still trying to figure out whether or not he cared about the fact that half of his fanclub were gold diggers or if he was just too high on himself to actually think about it.

"So, about earlier..." We were walking down the main road now, where most of the businesses were. If I wasn't so preoccupied with my thoughts then I would've noticed the pole and not have Sting pull my elbow harshly before I ran right smack into it.

"The... oh god, I didn't mean to keep kicking you- I,"

"No, not that," I bit my lip nervously as Sting began to grumble under his breath.

We must've looked quite odd.

I was looking at the ground, trying to match up with Sting's pace while playing with my thumbs, my bunny ears brushing against his arm every now and then. Sting on the other hand, had his hands in his pockets and though he was walking oh so confidently, he was muttering awkwardly under his breath.

I've never heard weirder comments from strangers until now, one in particular made me blush a bright crimson.

"You know... you ahh, don't need to force yourself," I whispered finally as we rounded a random corner, going down a bunch of stone steps into another part of the city square. Where, ironically, the more high ends places were.

"During the games, remember that?" I nodded in confusion, looking around for any possible clue that could hint to me why he wanted to start this particular topic, "We were talking and..."

"We talked throughout the whole thing, that's not really helpful..."

"I... asked," He stared down at me then, his eyes dilating into cat like slits. I felt the air being taken out of me then and flinched quite noticeably when he drew a breath and looked away, "the journal. Do you still have the journal?"

The journal?

Jour-

Oh, his man diary. His secret notebook where he cried his heart out like a teenage girl. The mini erotica collection he had entrusted me with because he trusted me that much.

I felt all the blood rush through my head then as I ripped the air beside me and took his journal out of the air pocket, stuffing it into his chest. I watched as Sting's eyes widen in shock at my sudden violent action, choosing not to say anything as we continued walking.

I felt so mad for whatever reason as I started walking at a quicker pace despite myself. My fists turning pale white as Sting fumbled with the old journal.

The thought of the journal led to bad thoughts, thoughts that kept creeping into my mind.

Thoughts like what was actually in that journal.

Thoughts like just why exactly he had no problem with entrusting a girl like me with his personal belongings.

Thoughts like why I hadn't looked into it when I had the chance.

I stopped in front of a random store window then, staring at my own reflection through the clear glass. Not realizing I had broken into a run in the middle of my internal monologue.

A slightly pale girl with a face the same shade as her disgustingly pink hair and light blue eyes so misplaced that it made everything I wore look awkward stared back at me. I let out a loud sigh before relaxing my head, making my ears go back into my head. It didn't matter where I went, who I was with; I'd always look awkward with this new appearance.

It kind of made me miss who I used to be; when I was a L'Arc Sibyl mage. My hands were already touching the cold glass before I could snap out of it; I looked up at the glass panel to a blond girl staring back at me instead of bunny girl.

"Lilian Orelohr Evan." That name was such a strain on my tongue now, like it belonged to a stranger. A stranger I've never met but have always heard of. Like the name of a ghost constantly haunting me.

"Lily," I quickly tore my hand away from the window and stared back at my companion shyly. The book still in his hands as he rolled his eyes grumpily at my antics, "jeez, what's with you today?"

"The battle really got to me?" I said sheepishly and laughed nervously as he looked at me in disappointment and made a sound that hinted he didn't believe me. Which I couldn't blame him for.

Then he turned towards the store window, the one I was just so gloriously appreciating my reflection in a moment ago and let a wide smirk cross his face, "come on."

It wasn't like I had any choice, he grabbed my wrist and all but dragged me into the shop but it wasn't like I was complaining or anything.

I was holding his hand after all.

Well sort of.

(Whatever. Whether he knew it or not, I was swooning like the fangirl I was 0on the inside)

I don't know what he was so psyched about though, the shop he dragged me in happened to be some kind of tailor. Well a seamstress actually, judging by all the ball gowns decorating the walls.

And Sting Eucliffe was not the cross dressing type.

I hope.

"Ahh, Sting! How nice of you to come visit," said an old lady after hearing the bells chime behind us, appearing from a pile of clothes in the corner of the shop, stacked so high that it made me wonder if it was possible to make a makeshift mattress out of it. Sting smiled at her, "hi, Mrs. Greeney"

I felt my heart jump at the name, hoping so desperately that it wasn't the same seamstress from my childhood. I watched in pure horror as she grabbed her glasses from the table and walked slowly towards us. Asking the white dragon slayer about his life nonchalantly as she pushed some stuff aside.

Whatever conversation she was having with Sting quickly died the moment she laid her eyes on me, and I felt myself stiffen under her gaze.

Please don't expose me. Please don't expose me. Please don't expose me.

Ms. Greeney all but grabbed at my face and pushed it here and there just so that she could see it in different angles. Too cut a long story short, I was downright terrified for my life when she finally let me go and looked at Sting, "Atta boy! You got yourself a looker!"

Then she turned to me and apologized before I had a chance to blush, "sorry. You just reminded me of one of my old clients."

I let out a big breath I hadn't known I was keeping in when she said that as Sting chuckled beside me, "actually, I heard you've been looking for a model."

My eyes shot open as I watched Sting nudge his head towards the dress in the window, "Lily should be the same size..."

"Sting, what are you doing?" I glared at him quickly and the only response I got from him was a blocked punch to the gut and a wide smirk.

Any other remark I was going to retort with died with the sudden squeal that erupted from the seamstress as she started jumping up and down and ordered Sting to throw me into the change room while she prepared the dress.

I let out a loud shriek as I felt Sting throw me over his shoulder fireman-style and head toward the back, by the way his shoulders were shaking violently, I could just tell that he was going to drop me any moment now in favor of doubling over in laughter.

To say the least, the next half hour there was one of the most terrifying moments of my life.

When Sting finally dropped me, and Ms. Greeney had started undressing me and then dressing me again; my arms and legs were so numb that I felt like a big glob of jello. She was fixing up the dress and adding some finishing touches when she finally spoke up, "do you know anyone by the name of Lillian Orelohr, by any chance?"

"No, never in my life have I heard of a Lilian Orelohr." I probably said that too quickly because she looked at me funny. I cursed myself for wording it so obviously. Thankfully, she didn't push it further and went back to sewing the pearls on.

"Beautiful girl, that one. Just beautiful, you two have the same eyes, you know."

I swallowed nervously and started playing with the pearl necklace that hung on my neck, "what happened to her?"

I tried my best to ignore the grunt from Sting outside the changing room and concentrate on not letting myself be known. Sting knew or was probably suspecting something, I just knew it, and I was definitely going to ask him later.

"Oh, nothing too important. This was supposed to be her birthday present, you know? Spent forever making it." I almost chocked on my breath then, birthday present?

Ms. Greeney swatted at me before I got the chance to even look down and examine the dress, "don't even think about it, girly." She told me and Sting snorted once again from outside the changing room, "not until mama's done."

When she finally did finish with the final touches, however, she made Sting quickly clean everything up and find some petals to throw at me while I walked out of the changing room to the mirrors, like it was my wedding or something. There was a wide smirk on his face that I didn't understand until I looked at the mirror and felt the air leave my lungs and seemed to never want to come back in.

Ms. Greeney's dresses were always gorgeous; she was the best of the best and the material she used was no exception. But this dress? She really outdid herself with this dress.

The craftsmanship of the dress was just breathtaking, like it was taken right out of a fairy tale book- out of Cinderella, which happened to be my favorite back then. The sky blue sleeves and skirt went beautifully with the pink ribbons and pearls that decorated every inch of the gown. It was so comfortable too, and poofy enough to not need a pannier. I felt like crying as I picked up the skirts and spun around in front of the mirrors.

It really was beautiful. And it would go nicely with my-

oh...

"I look like a reverse cupcake," I whispered as Ms. Greeney retreated further into the shop to fetch her camera. I pushed my hideous hair aside angrily, "it looks horrible on me because of my hair..."

"I think you look fine," Sting perked up suddenly, popping up beside me in the mirrors. In his hands were half a basket full of cherry blossom petals that he collected from outside. I felt my eyes tear up, "I like your hair the way it is."

"You're only saying that to make me feel better, you lady killer." I shook him off as I grabbed a chunk of my hair and searched for a hair tie.

I felt his fingers prey at mine then, lightly tugging at them until my hair fell in tendrils behind me and he laid his head on top of mine, putting the basket away and placing both of his hands on my shoulders and pressed his chin down on my head sharply despite my protests, "I like your pink hair. I like you the way you way, bunny girl."

A blush had decorated my cheeks once again as Sting made some of kind of gurgle after getting smacked by the sudden appearance of my ears.

FLASH!

I'm done yayyy, I tried not to make it rushed but I think I made it awkward while doing do. What do you guys think?

Omg everything is so OOC. How do I write?

Review please