Next chapter...here we come. This time we'll hear from Gray. Thanks for all the follows and faves. You guys are amazing.
Hiro Mashima owns Fairy Tail.
~~~~~~~~COME WAKE ME UP~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 2
The air was brisk as I made my way toward the restaurant, my steps long and quick to avoid being late. The wind whipped through the busy street, causing me to pull my jacket tighter around me. I shivered, realizing I probably should have worn something more appropriate, but that was just par for the course with me.
I'd never been good at paying attention to the weather, which meant that more often than not, I ended up out in town in something completely opposite of what the weather called for. It was something Lucy had always taken care of for me, making sure I was dressed properly. Had she still been with me, she'd have laughed and shook her head before handing me a thicker coat and my gloves.
Closing my eyes, I shoved the thought aside, knowing it was only a matter of time until it returned. She had plagued my mind nearly every moment since the day I left, the memory of her slipping into my thoughts at the most random of times. I'd tried to avoid things that would remind me of her, but it was impossible to do. Everything reminded me of her.
Everywhere I looked, I could see her, and I wanted to scream. I was trying to forget her, forget about what I thought we'd had together, everyday fighting to move on, but I'd never known it would be so hard. I felt like I carried a part of her around with me, and no matter where I went, I couldn't escape. Maybe that was why she was always there in the back of my mind. Maybe, I'd never be free of her.
What a cheerful thought. Once, I'd have found it to be comforting, knowing she'd always be with me, but things had changed. The life I had planned certainly hadn't gone the way I'd imagined. In a single moment, everything had been destroyed, all my dreams sucked away into a vortex of pain.
In that one instant, I'd lost it all. My home, my happiness, my faith, the woman I loved. In one fell swoop, it was gone, and in its place was a well of emptiness like I had never known. I still hadn't found a way past it, still felt so angry I could explode. It was like I was stuck there, still feeling like I'd been punched in the gut with this overwhelming urge to cry like a damn baby.
I'd felt like such a fool. I'd given her all of my trust, told her things about myself that I'd told no one else. There were just some things that I'd refused to share with anyone but the woman I meant to spend the rest of my life with. I thought she'd realized how important her discretion was to me, how much I valued her loyalty.
It had been such a shock to me, finding out that she'd revealed something like that. After everything she'd done to win my trust, all the things I'd put her through to test her, and it had come to nothing. She'd worked so hard to gain my faith, and the moment she'd obtained it, she had thrown it all away. Why?
I still didn't understand. I didn't know if I ever would. Of course, it didn't really matter, did it? She'd taken my secret, the one thing I'd asked her to protect, and laid it bare to her best friend. Understanding why she did it would change nothing.
Scowling at the turn my thoughts had taken, I shook my head and tried to put it aside. I wasn't out tonight to think about Lucy. I could have done that at my apartment. No, I admonished myself, I could have done that at home. I tested the word on my tongue and tried to picture the small efficiency apartment, but my mind refused.
Try as I might, I still couldn't think of anywhere as home but the house I'd lived with Lucy. The house that held all our memories, had my favorite chair, the big bathtub. That place was still home to me. Or maybe it had nothing to do with the building. Maybe it was just her that made it feel like home.
"Goddammit," I cursed, rubbing at my head. I had to stop this. I had to let go of the past, of her. I was never going to wake up and find this was all some horrible dream, and I had to find a way to accept the way things were. There could be no going back.
I didn't give my trust easily, and once it was broken, there was no patching it up. I just wasn't built that way. I'd been betrayed by too many people in the past. I didn't have it in me to try again, not after this.
Firming my resolve, I hurried the last block to the small bar and grill, fully intending to give this night a real shot. This was supposed to be a chance to get out, get my head clear and just enjoy myself. So far, I had failed miserably, but that was going to change.
Pulling open the door, I decided...I was going to have a good time. No more thoughts about the past, or Lucy, or all the nights I'd lain awake missing her. Tonight, I would stuff it all so far down inside me, there'd be no chance of it climbing back out...at least for a while.
I stepped out of the cold and sighed as the cozy warmth of the place wrapped itself around me. I shrugged out of my jacket and moved up to the hostess station.
"Hi! Welcome to Charlie's," the cheerful woman called above the noise of the bar behind her. She looked behind me and asked, "Just you tonight?"
I nearly snorted. Story of my life, I wanted to say, but bit my tongue. Oh the irony. "No, I'm meeting someone. She should already be here."
"Oh good," she said, looking down at a list on the counter, "Let's see if we can find her for you...What's the name?"
"Lockser. Juvia Lockser."
An hour and a half later found us full from a rather unhealthy dinner of burgers and fries, and for the first time in a while, I was feeling pretty good. I was enjoying the easy atmosphere and the nondescript conversation with Juvia. My head felt clear, and I wasn't ready to let that go.
So, choosing avoidance, I had suggested we stay for a while and have a few beers. Juvia had been more than happy to agree, and we were off again, laughing and talking about absolutely nothing.
We were well into our third round of beers, when she had slipped from her seat for a bathroom break, and moments later as if by providence, my phone rang. I groaned at the interruption, but reached into my pocket anyway. Though I wished to do so, I couldn't ignore the call. It could be important, and I wasn't one to avoid people.
Swiping my finger across the screen, I put the phone to my ear. "Hello?"
The response on the other end of the line was silence, not a sound to be heard. I tried again, "Hello? Anyone there?"
Still getting nothing, I pulled the phone away from my ear to check my signal. Finding no problems on my end, I spoke again, thinking maybe the other person was having trouble with theirs, "Hello? Can you hear me?"
When no answer came again, I sighed and was just about to cancel the call when a small voice said my name. The sound was enough to suck the air out of my lungs, and I sat there staring at my phone. I made no move to connect the gadget back to my ear. I was simply far too stunned to react.
"Gray..." she said again, slightly louder this time.
My earlier calm now gone, I shakily lifted the phone to my ear, and somehow managed to croak out, "Lucy?"
She hiccuped into the phone, then sighed, "It's really you."
I opened my mouth to respond, but considering I had no idea why she was calling or what to say, I shut it again. What could she possibly want? It had been months, and not once had she called me. Why now?
"Oh Gray..." she said sadly, her words stretching into a slur.
What the hell? Since when did she start drinking? I couldn't quite believe what I was hearing. She'd never been one to drink. She'd always been such a light-weight when it came to alcohol that she usually stuck to a single drink. When had that changed?
Before I could come up with something to say, she was continuing. "I miss you," she said, before giving a bitter laugh. "I can't even sleep cause you won't leave me alone. But I don't want you to leave me alone, cause then you'd be gone."
"Lucy..." I didn't know what to say. She sounded so broken, and I hadn't realized how much it would hurt to hear her that way.
"But you're already gone, aren't you?" Her voice cracked, and then she was crying. "I ruined everything...and now I'm all alone..."
She paused again, and for a moment all I could hear was the sound of gut-wrenching sobs. It was breaking my heart, but I didn't know what to say. I couldn't tell her it would all be okay, because right now, I felt very certain that nothing would ever alright again. I swallowed hard, willing the thickness in my throat to go away.
"I...I don't know how to do this, Gray. I can't..." she whispered brokenly. "I'm sorry...I'm just so sorry."
My eyes blurred at her words, and I raised my hand to my forehead, covering the telltale signs of my pain. How it could still hurt this much was a mystery to me, and I waited for the anger to come. I waited for it to sweep over me like it usually did and wash everything away in a haze of red, but it didn't.
I sat there, almost wishing for it, willing it to distract me from the ache in my chest. But there was nothing but a vast sense of regret and the pain that had been my constant companion for months. I wanted to be pissed at her for dredging it all up, but truthfully, it was always there. It had never left my thoughts for long.
She gave a loud sniff over the phone, and I sighed as my heart clenched. I could see her in my head, her eyes swollen, her face flushed an unflattering shade of pink, her shoulders heaving with the force of her cries. She'd always been such a messy crier, and had avoided letting me see that side of her until well into our relationship. She had hated how she'd looked and sounded, so the fact that she was weeping so openly now told just how upset she really was.
"I wish...I wish I could...take it all back," she whimpered, her shaky breath halting her words, "But I can't. I can't fix it."
Her voice trailed off, and in that moment, all I could hear was her guilt, her self-loathing. Once again, the thought came that she sounded fractured, like parts of her were missing, and I couldn't help wondering if those were the parts that had burrowed into my heart. Was that why she was this way? Had I stolen a piece of her that couldn't be replaced?
Shaking my head on the strange thought, I cleared my throat, determined to contribute something to the conversation, but what? What the hell could I say? Was I going to tell her that I see her everywhere I go, that I couldn't forget her?
Before I could fabricate a sentence, she spoke again, her tone far more timid than before. "Do...do you ever think about me?"
The question hit me like a shot to the gut. My heart begged for the truth, prodding me to tell her how much I'd missed her. That I lay awake at night staring up at the ceiling wishing she was beside me? That sometimes, I still wake up expecting her to be there? Could I tell her that hearing her voice saying my name made me weak?
My mind rebelled at the thought, argued against exposing myself again. She had hurt me a great deal, worse than anyone else had ever been able to, and I couldn't just ignore that. I couldn't give her more ammunition to do it again, could I?
Into the silence, she sniffed again. "I...understand. You were right to leave me. You deserve someone better, you always did."
What? My heart pounded in my chest at her admission, the frantic beat sending out a warning that I didn't quite comprehend. Something in her voice was off, the sound coming across all wrong. There was something there that I wasn't understanding, and that left me with a bad feeling. "Lucy-"
"Sorry it took so long, Gray," Juvia broke in, climbing back into her seat, "You wouldn't believe the line back there."
I nearly groaned aloud as the sound carried over the din. I got that same tightening in my chest, the same flash of warning, just as Lucy's soft voice filtered through the phone once more.
"I shouldn't have called. I'm sorry. I won't..." she paused to let out a ragged breath before she finished, "I won't bother you again."
The phone clicked immediately after, and she was gone. I sat there for a moment, staring at the phone in my hand as if waiting for it to ring again. But some part of me knew it wasn't going to happen. She wouldn't be calling back. It was there in her soft farewell, that air of finality. Her voice had held such emptiness as she'd uttered her promise, the words a sad resignation to a life of loneliness.
She spoke as if she knew she'd already been beaten, like she'd finally accepted that it was over, and all there was left to do was give up. And it hit me. That was what I'd heard, what my heart had been warning me of - she had finally given up.
It should have been a good thing, a way to make it easier for me to let her go, but it wasn't. It felt like the world was closing in on me, the air around me becoming far too thin to breathe. I gasped at the sensation, suddenly feeling shaky, staggered at the depth of sorrow I felt in the wake of this revelation.
I hadn't realized that I still held hope for us. I had been sure it had all been erased, but now I realized that somewhere deep inside, I had longed for a different outcome, for a chance to put us back together again.
All this time, I had struggled to keep her at bay, holding on to my anger in a bid to stay strong. I had convinced myself that it was too dangerous to trust her again, that I would be much safer if I stayed away. And maybe that would be true. She was bound to mess up again in the future, and I would probably get hurt if I opened myself up to her again. That was reality, because we were both human. We were going to hurt each other. People always did.
What made all the difference was the intent, and I knew without a shadow of a doubt that she hadn't meant to hurt me. She had made the wrong decision, but she hadn't revealed my secret for nefarious reasons. She'd done it because she needed to talk to someone about it, and I had avoided the conversation like the plague.
She had tried to talk to me on many occasions, more times than I cared to admit, but I had continuously brushed her off. I hadn't want to discuss it. I still didn't. It was one of those things that left me feeling vulnerable, and I detested that. It was a chink in my armor, a weakness that I didn't want to be reminded of.
And I had made sure she knew it. Eventually she had stopped asking, and looking back now, I suppose she was too afraid to keep trying. Of course, I hadn't thought anything about that at the time. I had simply been happy that she was finally leaving me alone about it. My priorities had been focused on me, on what made my life easier.
Now though, I was coming to realize that I had made things harder for her. This secret had been a part of our lives together, and yet I had demanded silence instead of allowing her to help me deal with it. I hadn't understood back then that my avoidance had left Lucy in a situation she hadn't known how to deal with.
It had taken me months, but now, with this one conversation, I could see the truth. I had played my own part in the destruction of our relationship just like she had. I had blamed her for everything, but the truth was that I was just as guilty as she was. I could have turned to her, we could have supported each other, but I had pushed her away.
I hadn't seen the big picture, hadn't been able to see past my own humiliation and pain at the time. She had tried so hard to help, to go through it with me, but I had wanted to pretend it didn't exist. Now, I could see that as badly as she had hurt me with her supposed betrayal, I had hurt her just as much. I still was.
In the space of 5 minutes, everything had changed. I could see the writing on the wall, and it was glaringly obvious that I still loved her. That wasn't going to change, and now that I was thinking clearly, I knew I didn't want it to. How had I thought I could rid myself of her? She was a part of me. She was entrenched into my very soul.
All this time I had spent fighting how I felt, trying to forget about her, but I couldn't. No matter how hard I tried, I hadn't been able to let her go, and now I understood why. Because deep in my heart, I hadn't really wanted to say goodbye. And now, because of my stubborn pride, I just might have to.