Fragments of the Past, Pieces of the Present
The night air clung to Juvia's skin like a damp blanket, a reminder that the warmth of summer was still far off. The sound of rain tapping softly against her window lulled her into a restless slumber. She turned under the covers, seeking comfort that eluded her as her dreams twisted and warped into memories she wished she could forget.
In the dream, she was back on the rooftop, the same rooftop where her heart had been torn apart seven years ago. The image of Natsu, the boy who had kissed her yet left without a word, was clearer than ever. She could hear the soft chime of the wind bell, the familiar scent of the city, and the whisper of the wind, but there was a heaviness in the air—a weight that made her chest tighten as if her heart itself was about to stop.
"Blue," his voice echoed in the dream, low and teasing, the nickname that had somehow stuck over the years. She tried to reach for him, but every time she moved, he pulled further away.
"Why?" she whispered, though her voice was barely a breath.
"Because," he answered, his voice laced with that mischievous tone that used to drive her crazy. "You talk too much."
And then he was gone, as quickly as he had appeared.
Juvia awoke with a start, her chest heaving with the remnants of her dream. She stared at the ceiling, eyes wide and unblinking, as though expecting him to reappear in the room, to give her some sort of explanation. But there was nothing. Just silence. The storm had passed.
She lay still, the weight of her thoughts pressing on her chest. Why was he still here? After all this time, why did she still dream of him? The question lingered like a ghost, unresolved, as her mind drifted back to that night on the rooftop.
Juvia closed her eyes again, the memories flooding in. The kiss. The way everything had felt so perfect and fleeting, like the world had paused in that one perfect moment, only to shatter as soon as Natsu walked away. The ache in her chest returned, familiar and raw, as she whispered to the stillness of the room, "What did it mean, Natsu?"
The soft sound of a song drifted through the thin walls of her apartment, filtering through from the building's shared hallway. A song about lost love, about waiting for answers that would never come. And I still feel the kiss we never had, burning in my chest. The lyrics lingered in her mind, mingling with the fragments of her dream.
She rolled out of bed, the weight of the night pressing down on her as she went to her desk. The office would be waiting for her in the morning, a distraction she was far too familiar with. But even now, as she shuffled papers, her mind was still on him. Still on that rooftop, and the boy who had kissed her like he wanted something—something she couldn't quite understand. And then, like a coward, he had left without so much as an explanation.
Her phone buzzed on the desk, but she didn't notice at first, her fingers absentmindedly flipping through the stack of papers. Her thoughts, much like the weather outside, had settled into a storm of their own. She should be able to forget him. Shouldn't she? It had been seven years. But here she was, still wondering about him, still haunted by that kiss.
Why had he left her behind?
The phone buzzed again, more insistent this time. Juvia blinked and finally picked it up, barely noticing the message. She opened the notification from a coworker, but it was just a reminder for a meeting she had to attend. Her thoughts drifted once more.
"I spent years convincing myself that I was stronger than this," she thought bitterly. "That I had forgotten him. But now—now his ghost lingers in my dreams like a forgotten melody, one that will never fade." Her fingers brushed over the photo album in her bag. The one she had kept tucked away, too painful to open, too precious to let go of. Maybe it was time, she thought. Maybe she needed to confront what had been left behind.
But no, she couldn't. Not yet.
As her coworkers prepared to leave for lunch, Juvia sat at her desk, a prisoner of her own mind. Could she move past this? Could she truly leave the past behind her, or would Natsu always linger there like a shadow she couldn't outrun?
She glanced at the clock—lunch hour was approaching, and she would have a few moments of peace. But as the hours ticked by, the questions kept growing. Why couldn't she forget him? Why couldn't she let go of what had never been?
The soft sound of the office door opening broke her reverie, and Juvia quickly forced herself back into the present. She straightened her papers, her mind still elsewhere.
But it was impossible to escape.
As the day wore on, the lyrics of that song lingered in the background of her thoughts, "But the love I tried to leave behind always calls me home."
~ To be continued ~