A/N : I edited the previous chapters. You don't have to reread them, because I only added or reduced a few odd sentences and some grammatical errors. Chapter 1 however, was the most tweaked, because with my current writing style, it just wasn't up to my taste. So if you may, just reread that one. Anyway, thank you for your kind reviews, alerts, and faves. Enjoy! :)
Chapter 4 : Intermission
.
.
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.Lucy.
I saw Mom and Dad and big brother around a picnic table so stuffy with sandwiches and mouth-watering snacks it was food heaven. Mom's hair was flowing in pretty golden braids, Dad's attire were refreshing polo shirt and casual pants, and big brother's mouth was smeared with chocolate jam that his face looked as ridiculous as one of a clown's. The garden was lush, scented with lilies and clinking cups of teas, with orange curtains of the sunset and laughter eluding.
For a moment I felt like a little kid again, wrapped with child-like innocence and the purest glee even the Santa would be jealous with.
Drawn by the scenery, my insides tugged me to reach out, yet as my fingers touched the breeze, it contorted. Colours and faces began twisting into blurs, whistling wind no more a pleasant melody, and I was harshly draped with dots, then black.
Always black.
I remembered waking up to a wet lapping against my cheek, inside a room that was not mine.
"Plue," a weary eyelid fluttered open as I stretched. The walls seemed dull somehow, I noted. That, or the dream I had was much too colourful, "Mornin'."
More licking, then a hop on my covered lap, tickling my thighs. I stared down groggily, blankets bunching below my sweaty palms. The pink gingham flannel reminded me of checkered picnic tables. And chocolate sandwiches. And an inkling of a picture-perfect family.
My chest tightened.
Plue nudged the palm of my hand, concern worming into his irises. It was a wonder how mutts could sense emotion as easily as the gum under your shoe and the smell of rot in fragrant meadows, as if they were walking detector machines or something. Then again I had no right to talk, seeing I wasn't exactly what a man would call as normal either.
I cracked a grin (I'm okay) and it was all it took for the white pup to understand like he always did, for he had wagged a snowy tail then jumped off the bed, head bobbing towards the door, an almost whine and clipping ecstasy in his chatter. I chuckled, and the suffocating weight was lifted somehow.
"Right, food first thing in the morning, eh?" My toes slipped into my bunny-topped slippers, fluffy, before a sharp smell wafted into my nostrils and I abruptly inhaled back a yawn I almost choked on.
Was it me or there was something being burned in the house?
The door almost produced a dent right through the wall as it flung open. With no time to even feel slightly apologetic, I trudged through the wooden stairways, feet almost slipping twice in the process as I arrived at the scene area : a chaotic kitchen. All at once, I was overcome by a smell of electrocuted smoke, spreading panic and a hectic exchange of cussing whispers.
"What kind of wise grown-up drowned a smoking toaster—"
"I only splashed the water. You smoked the toasts and the toaster."
A boy about my age or a little older, stood across the meal counter, pressing both palms on top his head as if fearing the ceilings would crumble. Rough exasperation tainted his already paling feature, making his shock of pink hair (wow, common genes much?) seemed pinker than it already was. I recalled Asuka mentioning a neighbour with weird rosy hair, was it him by any chance?
"Screw that," he obnoxiously muttered, onyx pools magnifying and horrified, "Your wife's still going to murder us all the same!"
Another one, a ravenette, which I recognized as Alzack, semi-mirrored his expression, only he was putting a finger before his lips. Standing in all his western glory, an empty pail dangled across his abdomen as he stared at the drenched, blackened toaster between them in mash of horror and shame and panic altogether.
"Ssh!" He hushed so loud I thought spit was flying, "You'll wake Lucy up—"
Plue erupted a not-so-silent bark, making all eyes turn and pierce into me in the flash of lightning, and if I didn't know better, I wouldn't like to assume he did it intentionally. Naughty dog.
Simply put, the situation was awkward.
"Uh," I touched the brim of my glasses (thank God I had the instinct to wear it before rushing down), trying to hide behind it as if possible. Heat of embarrassment closed upon the room, and I watched as their gears began turning.
"AH!" They recoiled in unison. I held back a wince for my ears felt like they were ringing.
They screamed frantically, "Please please please don't tell Bisca!"
"...Please don't tell who?" A smooth, cold voice of a woman's resounded, and if it not for the toddler glancing back and forth curiously in her arms, I would have thought she was out to exterminate somebody, preferably the two male species to my front.
The temperature turned zero at once.
Ah, the term 'speak of the devil' seemed really fitting right now.
If looks could kill, they'd surely be dropped dead by now. Sucked in the eyeballs, spurting blood on the floor, fractured bones, rolling skulls and all...
Okay, that sounded plainly hyperbolic, but you got the picture.
"I was out to the market to get some supplies and this is what I got?"
We were seated on the dining table right after the fiasco. The guy, whose name I later learned was Natsu, squirmed tinier beside me. He stopped playing with his sweaty fingers, ankle swinging and knocking the chair legs. Our feet touched once, but he was so engrossed his nervousness I assumed he didn't even notice. To my front, Alzack considerably shrank too. His unsettled jumpiness made me feel like ducking under the table as if an earthquake was coming.
I gulped and dared a glance towards the questioner whose hands were wrapped in front of her chests. What was she capable of doing it made even males curl so pathetically?
"Someone care to explain?" The young woman coughed, turning her cold dagger to each occupant of the table. Except for little Asuka, of course. The girl peered at us as if we were a part of her favourite cowboy cartoon.
Her bronze eyes landed on me the moment I wished they hadn't, "Lucy?"
"Ah, uh...," I glanced to Natsu, then Alzack. They each gave me a pleading look and I immediately blanked. Why was I dragged into this again? "They at least managed to prevent a...fire?"
If it was a trivia, I was so sure they'd reward me a huge cross right way. Bisca's previous fake smile twitched a little and she shot a dirtier glare to the boys. I sent them a sheepish wave of apology.
"You see," Alzack started, hands still pale and shaking. He was trying to collect back whatever remnants of adult dignity in front of everyone. I found it almost comical, "We originally intended to surprise you with buttered toasts in occasion of welcoming our new family member," he referred to me, "It was Natsu's idea of course. Not mine, just him, not both—"
"But he agreed to it!" Natsu stood up, ticked off, "I mean, I broke the buttons yeah, and it burned just a little longer. But when it started smoking, he just came over screaming and dripping water—"
"The point is, it's the toaster's fault!" The two decided to end. How it happened to be simultaneous was unknown to me.
This particularly ridiculous reason was met with another freezing silent. Asuka knocked her fork on her plate. Plue barked joyfully, again.
Bisca resumed her breakfast.
No one spoke for a handful of minutes.
Two heads bowed onto the table with a bump, "I'm so sorry!" Both pleaded, faces centimeters from their empty plates, with the addition of Alzack exclaiming, "Don't stop cooking my dinner too!"
Bisca quirked a brow as if daring them, dipping a chop of bacon into the home-made BBQ sauce. I must say, I did adore her clean method. After all, it was exactly what they say—a way to a man's heart is through his stomach.
Asuka threw a few circular-cut sausages down her baby stool which Plue gleefully caught in his mouth. She grinned innocently, tomato sauce smearing her cheek, "That shows Daddy's just a bad chef."
Children are scary, I decided. They could feign that much innocence to cover insults to their parents, albeit unknowingly?
"Now, now, Daddy is slowly learning, isn't he?" The young mother wiped the toddler's cheek clean, all the while transpiring a warning look towards her husband, "And Natsu, I'll ask your grandma to teach you some basics."
Natsu flailed a bewildered hand, "Uh, no thanks! I can handle it. I better ask myself to learn with," he murmured the last sentence gloomily.
"Lucy, is the food alright?"
I snapped my eyes back up, stunned. A casual table conversation was a rarity to me, "Yes. Thank you."
"Aw, don't be so formal," Bisca grinned warmly. Her long pony-tail swayed from side to side as she slid some breakfast off the frying pan, sparing it for Alzack and Natsu. The two males drooled, "We're living together now, aren't we?"
She was right, yet the fact that I was actually assigned to be a part of a family hadn't really struck onto my brain even until now. They were the guardians Mr. Caprico had arranged me to stay with, seeing that I was not yet in the legal age of private living. As far as I knew, Bisca was one of Mom's distant cousins who came from the West, but then she and her boyfriend Alzack, transferred here for college purposes and eventually got married. Virgo said she visit the mansion once when I was still very little, but I didn't remember much.
"We are," I nodded politely, hiding my discomfort of everyone's sole attention crawling onto me. They meant no harm I knew, but I always hated being in the spotlight, "Thank you," I paused a second, unsure what to call them, "...Uncle and auntie."
Alzack feigned a friendly offence, "You make us sound old. We've told you to call us by names!"
"Then-then," Asuka piped in excitedly, "If Lucy-nee is going to live here, she will be my sister!"
Her query was so honest and pure I couldn't help but smile, "Can I?"
"Uh-huh!" She clapped rowdily. Her chair clattered, "You will tell me bedtime stories and you can be the bad mustache man when I be the cowgirl. And-and, we can braid each other's hair! Oh! We can braid Plue's and Natsu-nii's too!"
Natsu dropped his eating utensils with a clank. Plue raised his head from his bowl, tilting his head as if questioning.
The rest of us broke into a fit of laughter. And for the first time in a long while, the tint of warmth gripping my chest was not somebody else's.
It was mine.
.Gray.
I was floating on pillows with the sky as my roof. The lot of them were mounted into giant mattresses of cottons and softness and everything nice I swore I would never gonna wake up.
That was, until a voice flipped them all upside down.
"Gray."
I buried my ears within the folds of my arms. Can it wait?
"Oi, Fullbuster, wake up."
I didn't budge, eyes still tightly shut, trying hard to tug the room of pillows back into my peaceful mind, casting the disturbance away from my sleep, whoever it was.
"Gray. Gray. Gray," the voice continued repeatedly. It was getting unbearably deafening by then. I could feel an amount of weight at the top of my head, pressing, squirming and tangling, "Graaaay. Grrray. Grayyy. Gray-chaan—"
"I'm up, I'm up!" I grumbled as I sat up, slapping the hand messing with my hair, my thoughts bleary and vision muddy. I bet my sleepy hair look like one of a hobo's right now.
"Hey there, sleeping beauty," a blurry pale of tan waved in front of my nose. I was guessing it was the hand whose owner I so want dead right now, "Homeroom's over."
I blinked twice, and was immediately graced with the splendid scenery of a classroom. The seats were nearly empty, the board was squeaky clean, and the teacher was gone. A couple of students was exiting the door, chattering their lives away.
Oh, my drowsy, slowpoke of a brain finally caught up.
"You never cease to disgust me, Loke," I pulled my seat and gripped my black backpack, one strap over my shoulder. Really, flirting with girls was one thing, but calling a guy a beauty?
I scratched my hair, suppressing any urge to plop onto another chair to doze off , "Was I really out that long?
"Nah," Loke's comeback was dipped in sarcasm, "Only an hour or so."
I looked to my left and right, sorting through the sea of students cramped in the hall. A few seniors clad in Jerseys bumped into nearly everyone in their attempt of slipping through. A group of girls leaned against their lockers, chatting in high-pitch little giggles with skirts shortened so high I doubt they ever intent to wear any, at all. They stopped their act when our eyes met, waving cheerily. Loke gave them a flirty salute.
I rolled my eyes, "Where's Natsu?"
Loke almost backtracked in his steps. I was glad he didn't though, for if he really did, he'd most likely be steered by the tides of human. Or trampled in between and squished for his dear life. The corridor was that busy.
"You really did nap through homeroom," he stated with so much incredulity I almost didn't believe it myself.
I gave him a scoff, pocketing my palms on habit, "Thanks for the highlight."
"Natsu's giving the new transfer a tour," he answered, ignoring my last comment.
This time, it was me who almost tripped backwards, "Transfer? To our class?" I really slept over that?
"Yup. Lucky guy he is, the girl's a cutie," his eyes glinted beneath coloured glasses, "Though a different kind of cute, I guess."
Typical Loke, always the ladies man. I wouldn't be surprised if he had a detailed list of each type of woman in the universe pasted in his locker to check every morning. I weighed the idea for a while. Maybe that was the polish of his daily pick-up lines. For real.
"How's your Saturday?" The strawberry blonde asked conversationally, entering codes into his locker. He was leaning fully against its frame, so I couldn't check if there really was a list taped inside.
He was referring to my dinner with Ultear, but I couldn't help but be reminded of...some other occurrence that day. I bit back a smile, "Same old."
Loke must have noticed something, for he peeked at me suspiciously, "Oh really now?"
I hummed, snapping my locker close with a 'thunk', taking out my Bio textbook, "Oh really."
The boy narrowed his eyes as if I was a horrible lab experiment.
"I'm assuming pray tell doesn't work then?"
"Nope," I made the 'p' pop, just for the sake of aggravating him more.
This was a guessing game we had been playing ever since we first met. I did something out of my line of normality, he sniffed something was up. It was how our friendship worked—we never asked and we seldom tell, and even if we did, both of us would likely end up dropping vague hints we knew the other could pick up. Loke was good at disguising inner intents, but I was an expert at hiding them, an aspect so similar yet actually differed much. Having the slightest idea of how our gears span and ran, we would try to crack every layer of forts that was each other's mind, figuring out what was the core resting inside.
Most of the time though, we'd fire up the little challenge to our taste.
"Bet you ten Jewels I'm gonna find out," Loke tapped my shoulder with a smirk.
I smiled confidently, hitting my pants pocket for emphasize, "Bet another twenty that you won't."
After all, an encounter with an odd boy who had never eaten any hot dog was pretty much unimaginable even to the most creatives, wasn't it?
'All the statistics in the world can't measure the warmth of a smile.'
—Chris Hart
A/N : Review please? :)