Natsu and Lucy have
been a unit since they met. It came as no surprise when one couldn’t function
without the support of the other.
He couldn’t breathe. His breath was caught in his lungs and
everything was crashing down around him. His world narrowed to a single point.
He couldn’t move, couldn’t think as he stared at her. His mind couldn’t process
what he was seeing. It couldn’t be real. There was too much blood, she was much
He stumbled towards her. His tired legs gave out beneath
him. So he crawled the remaining distance to her side.
She still hadn’t moved. He could vaguely hear shouts and
screams all around him, but his ears were ringing. It was like everything was
just beyond the edge of his senses.
Everything except how still her chest was.
A sob broke from his lips as he reached her. His hands were
That was different. He always had control of himself. His
body was the tool he used to wield his magic and he had trained himself to have
complete control. His power was too much for anything less.
But that was only a fleeting thought. There was no room in
his mind for anything but her and how unnaturally pale her skin was.
His entire body shuddered as his fingers touched her cheek.
Her skin was cold. He didn’t have much experience with cold. Sure, he was aware
of changes in temperature, but they didn’t have much of an effect him. The
chill of her skin was the coldest thing he had ever felt, and it seemed to
spread from her to him, numbing his fingers, then his hand, creeping up his arm
as he brushed a lock of hair out of her face.
It was wrong, he mused, as he pulled her into his lap. She
was always warm. She hated being cold, even though it was inevitable that she
would get chilly from time to time, given the clothes she loved to wear. He had
always secretly enjoyed how she would walk closer to him when it was windy. He
loved to tease her, pretended it was a chore, but he relished those times when
he had an excuse to wrap an arm around her shoulders. If she was cold, well, he
had plenty of heat to share.
But this time was different. The thought beat in his mind,
that this wasn’t a chill that he could banish with a hug and laugh.
His heart stopped once she was in his arms, once he could
see her face. It was wrong.
Her eyes were all wrong. Normally, he couldn’t find the
words to describe the deep rich brown of her eyes, but he had no trouble now.
Dull, staring, unseeing. Lifeless. He tried to pretend she
was staring off into the distance, gazing at something behind him, and when he
said her name she would blink and return her focus to him.
But she didn’t. So he choked out her name again and gently shook
her, desperately hoping she would come back.
Violent tremors shook through him as her face turned away
from his, that awful gaze directed at nothing.
He finally noticed the tears steaming off his cheeks as his
temperature rose higher and higher. He gently laid her back on the ground,
setting her down softly and straightening her clothes, ignoring the ugly gashes
in her side that were still leaking blood. Ignoring that his skin and clothes
were covered with it. And none of it was
The calm before the storm. He had heard her use that phrase
before, when she was brainstorming for her writing out loud, and he was quite
certain it applied now. He was calm, feeling the heat burn hotter and hotter in
his blood. He stood up and took several steps away from her, so she wouldn’t be
caught in the blast when the fire manifested on his skin.
He scanned the battle field, eyes sharp and alert. But he
knew they looked like hers. Not quite unseeing yet, but dull, no emotions but
grief and agony left in him.
He locked onto a man wearing gloves fit with iron claws. He
stared, and he saw the dark runes carved into the metal, the keen edge of the
blades. The bright blood coating the man’s hands.
The fire was tight under his skin and he struggled to
control it. He took one step toward his opponent, then another, and another,
until he was closing the distance between them in an easy lope.
He heard the horrified shouts and agonized cries behind him
as some of his teammates discovered his cold partner on the ground. His heart
was torn further apart with every step he took away from her.
He was fighting the fire now, something he hadn’t done since
he was very young and first learning the art of the flame. His pulse beat
loudly in his ears, drowning out every other sound as he stepped towards the
man who had just destroyed his life with a single blow of rotten magic.
His adversary turned and glanced at him. All thoughts
suddenly cleared from his mind. Everything was simple. He could hear shouts
coming from behind him as his teammates finally noticed him. But it didn’t
Fire erupted from his skin, flickering with the tempo of his racing
The storm broke.
Man oh man. This is the first thing I’ve posted in over a year and it’s angst. I’m ecstatic right now. This is great :D