I know. I know you want to kill me for uploading a chapter almost 6 months later. Believe me when I say I'm so incredibly sorry. I went on a complete hiatus off this story and that had a lot to do with exams, trips and a bit of a writers' block. I really do apologize.
To make up for it, this chapter is very long XD And also something I wrote over a solid stretch of 5 hours, and it's 1 AM by the time I'm posting this so I didn't proofread it through. I really hope you guys like to though. :)
Halfway through crossing the street, I stopped walking.
Mavis realized I wasn't beside her just as she reached the other side, and glanced over her shoulder.
"If you keep standing there," she called finally, shouting over the usual morning chaos of Magnolia traffic. "You're going to get run over by a bus."
"Hardly the first time," I muttered underneath my breath.
I hesitated for just another second, and as the lights turned back to green, I swiftly jumped back onto the pavement. Mavis gave me a quizzical look from across the road.
My curiosity to take a closer look at the two mediators was slowly chipping away under the urge to clear the air with Lucy. I kept seeing her cold, hard expression in my mind, and I didn't think I'd be able to carry a polite conversation with the older brother without punching him in his ego as a potential outlet for my frustration.
I wasn't sure whether I need to distract myself from Lucy, or go back to her. Both seemed to be paradoxically tempting options.
"I'm going back," I yelled over the noise of people and cars and hawkers, already sensing Mavis' exasperation. "Can we join you later?"
Mavis was too short for me to make her out among the sea of people heading to work, but she became visible enough for me to watch her step back onto the street and calmly make her way through the moving vehicles. I winced, just a bit, as a cycle rode right through her unaffected body.
"This is hardly a tea party," she said finally, looking absolutely vexed. Well, I probably wasn't the most easy going ghost out there, but then, we dead blokes can't always be perfect. "I thought we both wanted to—"
"Sorry." I shrugged, apologizing half heartedly. I was still thinking about Lucy. "I have to go."
I turned before Mavis could cause a lamppost to crash down on innocent bystanders and started to walk in the opposite direction.
I was almost entirely sure that I wouldn't be getting her help any time soon. And
given my hostility at the Piper's Hotel and Casino, I was doubtful whether anyone would let me in anymore either way.
As I pushed the door open to Belle's Corner, I began to feel uneasy.
And this was nothing to do with the free nausea that comes with bobbing around as a dead spirit all the time.
It was a raw, uncomfortable feeling in the pit of my stomach that Lucy Heartfilia had had enough of me. But, as usual, I refused to plan it through, and brushed past the other waitresses to where Lucy was standing.
She had her back to me, and when I touched her shoulder, she responded with a impatient "I said I'm coming, Cana."
She stiffened as she heard my voice. Without turning around, she said in a much harsher tone than before, "Piss off."
I sighed. "I'm sorry."
"For what? For helping Natsu Dragneel humiliate me in front of my boss or for dumping the entire contents of your human life on me and expecting me to react appropriately?" The words tumbled out of her in an angry torrent, without a single breath punctuating the rush.
"Lucy!" One the waitresses called from the kitchen, popping her head around the door. A gust of steam with a hint of pepper and butter blew out as it opened. "Hurry up."
I didn't want Lucy to be the next Ul for my own stupid decisions. Without really thinking—surprise, surprise—I reached over to the closest table and casually tipped over their plate of food.
What? He was picking at it anyway. Don't give me that look.
There was the expected crash and the splatter of food and the girl who'd called out widened her eyes for a moment before she ran to clear the mess. I grabbed Lucy's hand and pulled her through the backdoor.
As we came out into the sunny air in the back alley, Lucy threw up her hands and let out a groan of exasperation. "Are you trying to make me lose my job?"
I was almost grinning. It had been a while since I sabotaged someone's food just for the heck of it. I used to do it a lot in the beginning, when I had started to realize I could never eat again.
I know. I'm absolutely angelic in nature.
"You were nowhere close to him, and they won't notice you're gone while they're cleaning that up."
Lucy had her hair in the messy bun she had worn when I first saw her. Her fingers were coated in bread crumbs and sauce and she had specks of flour on her nose.
With a sinking feeling, I realized she was beautiful.
She was also seething.
"Is this how you apologize? By messing up things? You seem to be pretty good at it." Lucy continued to vent without stopping, her suppressed at annoyance at Natsu's little scene slipping out in furious bits of speech.
"Tell me when you're done yelling," I said, attempting to sound cheerful, when really I was cowering inside. "Also, if you wanted to talk to the air inside the pizzeria, I didn't mind. But that could confirm Natsu's accusations and I was aiming to save you the—"
"You weren't saving me any trouble, Fullbuster." Lucy crossed her arms. We were alone here, and as long as she didn't scream loud enough, no one could eavesdrop from inside. "You're the fucking problem here, if you ask me."
My gaze dropped. "I'm sorry," I repeated lowly. "I mean it."
Lucy was still glaring at me, but her arms uncrossed and she unfroze a bit. Finally, she let out a whistle and looked up at the sky, leaning against the backdoor. "I—thought of something," she said, slowly. Her voice was gentler now, the way she spoke to everyone but me.
"Yes?" I prompted.
When Lucy looked back at me, I almost took a step back at the hurt in her eyes. "It's just a theory. I was thinking about it, on the way back from the graveyard."
Everything seemed very still now. I could still hear the murmur of eating and clinking of plates from the pizzeria, but it was like an insignificant buzz in the background.
"Lucy?" I said, when she didn't continue.
She raised two fingers to pinch the bridge of her nose, looking tired. "Come here in two hours. We're visiting a friend."
Most people like to spend their free time reading a book or going kayaking.
Me? I spend it stealing bagels.
By the time I was back at the pizzeria, I was holding two paper bags filled with bagels and doughnuts in one hand and a cup of macchiato in the other. I had come to notice that Lucy practically fed on these, before I came to the conclusion that she couldn't cook a meal to save her life.
This, of course, had followed an hour of mockery which she ended by pouring her coffee all over my ectoplasmic pants.
When Lucy stepped out, dressed out of her uniform into a Metallica T-shirt and shorts, she looked almost pleased to see me already there.
Then again, I lacked the expertise to distinguish between her looks of happiness and the looks she reserved specially to remind someone she wouldn't hesitate to castrate them.
She raised an eyebrow at the food. "What are you doing with those? You're dead."
"Such a gentle way to put it," I said in sugar tones. Secretly though, I was relieved to see that she was teasing me again. I'd screwed up so many things that connected her, I was afraid I'd lose her for good. "Here's your bagel."
Lucy frowned as she took the paper bag from me. "Please don't tell me you stole this."
I grinned at her half-apologetically.
She didn't look too amused. "Which bakery?"
"What? You can't be serious, Heartfilia."
"Gray, which one? Let's walk there."
And so we did. Feeling confused at her lack of mischief, I led the way to the cramped little bakery and pointed at it. I watched her, still holding the bags, as she slipped around the corner and quickly put the money on the counter, before anyone could notice what she was paying for.
She began to walk towards me, jaw set, and I felt a sudden twinge of guilt.
When I was still alive, money had never been a problem for me. Maybe that was why I'd let myself get spoilt for a while. I'd never had to work after school, and nor had Ul, especially not as a waitress.
I'd never really given much thought so the few clothes Lucy owned, or my tiny apartment out of all places for her to live in. I hadn't cared about where she was working, because I'd been too caught up in her and her abilities. I hadn't even considered how she only got one bagel and nothing else in the mornings, or how she refused to buy anything other than what she had to decorate.
Maybe that was why I hadn't even begun to understand how important it was for her to pay for what she was getting. That was probably why she made such a fuss whenever I nicked something because I'd never really had to care. And she always had.
I changed topic of conversation as she came back and took the coffee from me. "So, which friend are we visiting?"
"Well, she's certainly alive, for one."
"Oh, thank God for that." I rolled my eyes. "What's your theory?"
She became a bit quiet, extending the pause as we walked with a long sip. "It's...well, I'm—" she started to fumble for words. "I need to ask my friend—her name's Mirajane—something before I can tell you."
I frowned. "Lucy, how serious is this? Is this something to do with what I told you? Because we never have to discuss my life again, if it makes you uncom—"
"Don't." She looked up at me, speaking over the rim of the paper cup so that no one would see her talking to nothingness. "Don't speculate. It's hard enough for me to consider this."
"You're giving me an awful lot of detail here."
There was something leveling in her gaze. "When we first met," she said finally. "All you needed was a mediator, right? Someone who could understand you?"
"That's not fair," I objected. "You're my friend. At least, I hope so."
She ignored that. Because, naturally, Lucy Heartfilia likes to make people feel at home by leaving them subtle cliffhangers at the end of every sentence.
"None of that crap." She hailed a cab as we turned a bend, and I couldn't hear most of what she said as we got in. "...and I just want you to remember, that I'm talking to you as a mediator about this, okay?"
Giving the cabbie directions, she sat back and tapped her ear as if she was speaking into an earpiece for the benefit of the driver. "Just don't freak out, alright?"
"Who, me?" I raised a hand over my heart. "Never."
I let out an unmanly yelp as the cab drew up in front of a house. Lucy shook her head at me as she handed the cabbie the fare and then followed me out onto the sidewalk.
"I know this place!" I started excitedly, pointing at the large two storey house. "It's the Strauss's! I come here sometimes, you know, into their library—it's all psychic nonsense, though, do you…" I trailed off as Lucy cocked an eyebrow at me. "Um."
"Is there any place you haven't broken into?"
"Wait, so you know the people who live here?"I asked instead. "The Strauss sisters?"
"Mirajane and Lisanna were my first friends in Magnolia," Lucy explained as we walked up the driveway. (I'd usually just sneak in through a window, but I'm guessing that wouldn't buy Lucy's stamp of approval.) "Lis was there at my birthday, but I don't think you'll—"
She was cut off as the door swung open, and a girl with pale features and short silvery hair appeared. She was dressed in appallingly loud colours of yellow and green, which contrasted ferociously with her baby blue flip-flops.
I recognized her face immediately. I did remember her, not just from Lucy's party, but from glimpses of her and her older sister around the house. I'd only come into their library twice or thrice, but sometimes, I'd felt like someone was watching me without really watching me. And I'd always looked up to catch a flash of silver hair or the hem of a nightgown.
"Lucy," she greeted warmly. "Mira kept saying you'd be coming."
Lucy grimaced. Despite her odd friends, she still seemed skeptical of any psychic abilities. "Doing good, Lisanna?"
She merely smiled in reply, and opened the door wider to let us in. I entered, padding silently across the familiar wooden floors and into their library on the right of the hallway. I heard Lucy chat a bit with the younger sister, making small talk here and there and refusing lemonade.
I was looking at the well known books, running my fingers along their frayed spines. I glanced at the book which had given me information about guides, and at the several ones I'd pored over trying to understand what I'd become when I'd first been led here by Piper's ghostly granddad.
Two sets of footsteps entered the room and I turned, almost having forgotten Lucy was here this time and it wasn't broad daylight. For a minute, I'd been back in those chilly winter nights where I'd sat huddled in a corner, flipping through book after book, desperate to understand.
This was Mirajane Strauss. She seemed a little less maniacal than her sister (and I say that based on her milder taste in clothing) but wore the same serene expression.
"Is he here with you then?" she asked brightly as she came in, looking directly at me but with an unfocused look. Lucy had clearly finished up on a quick preamble as to her sudden appearance in the hallway itself.
Lucy was fidgeting with her nose, the way she did when the atmosphere was tense. "Yeah. Right in front of you."
Then she crossed the floor and stood next to me. "Gray, this is Mirajane. Mira, Gray Fullbuster." She said it in a controlled, professional voice, as if introducing ghosts to psychics was something she did daily. "Don't say hello, it'll just make everything all the more awkward."
Mira and I burst out laughing at the same time and Lucy breathed out a silent sigh of relief.
Then she moved towards the long wooden table in the centre of the library and pulled out a chair for me, seating herself at the one next to it. Mirajane cocked her head once at me, still unable to see me, and then abruptly shut the library doors behind her.
"I never knew you'd guided before, Lucy," she murmured as she sat down with us. "I mean, I always felt a strange energy around you but—"
"But I'd never buy it, I know," Lucy interrupted, getting more and more restless. "Look, Mira, I have to ask you something."
Mirajane fingered her long locks, looking thoughtful, and then turned in my general direction. "Lemonade?" she asked politely.
Lucy gritted her teeth. "No," she answered, impatient. "Mira, listen to me."
"But I need to listen to him."
The Strauss girl's words dropped onto the table like a heavy weight, sucking out all the noise from our surroundings. Lucy stopped midway through framing her question and clasped her hands. "Mira?"
Mirajane, however, wasn't looking at Lucy. Suddenly, she began a strange jig with her fingertips on the table, dragging them across the wooden surface until they were centimeters away from mine.
I looked at Lucy, who shrugged.
"I can't feel anything," Mira mused.
"Well, I'm telling you, you can't if you're not a med—" Again, Lucy was cut off as Mira shook her head violently, silvery white locks flying everywhere. "Hold his hand, Lucy."
"Please. I can't help you with anything if I can't listen."
After a long moment, I felt Lucy's hand on mine, warm and human. I closed my eyes without thinking, relishing the sudden feel of her skin.
Then, just for one fleeting second, I felt Mirajane's fingertips on our linked hands. My eyes flew open as both Lucy and Mirajane withdrew their hands, Lucy gasping and Mirajane humming under her breath.
"What—what happened?" I looked worriedly at Lucy, who was sweating, her blonde hair sticking to the back of her neck.
"I thought so," Mirajane said, fixing her piercing blue eyes on Lucy. "I thought I could feel your energy on his."
Lucy didn't say anything, her lips pursed.
"What did you hear?" I asked, before remembering it wouldn't matter. Lucy repeated the question instead.
"Well, I usually never deal with spirit energies," Mira declared. "But if you've come up with what I think you have, Lucy, then it's going to be hard to guide him."
The temperate seemed to drop a few degrees, and I'm dead.
Lucy's eyes hardened, her hands fisting into a tight ball of white knuckles. "Why?"
"Like I said." And Mirajane looked incredibly sad as she leant forward. "Your energies are too linked for a spirit and a human. Have you tapped into it before?"
"Once." As she said it, I remembered the sunlit afternoon in the park with Mavis, where Lucy had tested her exterminate-a-ghoul powers on me.
"It's—harder. If the mediator's energy is in close proximity with the spirit's…" Mirajane faltered. She looked at me again, her blue eyes sort of unsettling. "You didn't even need to move on. How is it you are in such close range of her powers?"
I pondered it. I couldn't think of a single ghost who had actually spent time with a mediator before they sought someone to guide them through the final process of death. That was why most of us hadn't known anything about it.
"We—kind of live together?" I tried.
Lucy didn't crack a smile at my response. She drew back Mira's attention by rapping her fingers on the table. "Mira? Do you want to know what I needed to ask?"
The white-haired girl nodded at her. "But it's going to be so hard. Surely, you knew that?"
"I haven't told you yet."
All these unfinished statements were beginning to put me off. I wasn't a mind reader. How were sane ghosts supposed to make sense of this half spoken conversation?
"Sorry. Go on."
Lucy drew in a deep breath. "Okay. So most—spirits. They have incomplete wishes, correct? Lingering work?"
"Things like—well, finding love? Going to a place? Holding someone else's hand when they died?"
Mirajane didn't say anything. She continued to play with her hair, listening intently. "And I'm guessing there are some of you who don't really want to do this, do you?" It took me a moment to realize she was talking to me. "To trace back what they needed in their human lives. It's easier this way, right?"
But a dark corner of my still heart knew she was right. I didn't want to face a force strong enough to send me into the deepest part of death.
"I was…wondering." Lucy's voice was small. "If it had to do anything with regret."
"Regret," Mira echoed, more of an agreement than a question.
"What if it's something a—spirit's afraid of? If they do it, will it help them move on?"
Mirajane pondered this. Outside, the sun began to dip itself into scarlet and orange, melting away into twilight.
"All these spirits," she said finally. "Who didn't find a guide. Any help. It's because they're afraid of how."
Lucy nodded, even though she looked slightly crestfallen. "I know you've never acted a guide before. But you know how fear works, right?"
Some sort of an unspoken memory flashed between the two.
"Then you need to do it for him." Mira said her next words in a bleak, flat tone, as if I wasn't there listening. "Without a mediator, he'll never know what he needs to do. That's why the ghosts who don't yet, can't ever move on, can they?" And I was suddenly struck with the horror of it all. "How can they? They can't link energies with a mediator until they really are going, and they can't go until they're told where to go."
"Excuse me," I said. "Can someone please explain all this rubbish to me?"
Lucy turned to me slowly, her fingers still clutched tightly in an interlocking grip. "You don't need me to go on. You need me before going on. Or, you're locked here forever."
"It's because your energies are linked," Mira explained. "There's an emotional line, you understand?"
"No," I said bluntly. "I most certainly do not."
Mira got up then with a creak of the chair, and turned to the bookshelves, searching for what she needed. As she did so, I looked back at Lucy. She had her head in her hands, and wasn't moving.
The older Strauss sister neatly slid out a small, pudgy looking book out and carried to the table with her. It was a drab sort of book, something I wouldn't have noticed because of its tiny, patched dark blue cover and moth eaten pages. It looked battered, something which didn't belong with the rest of the shiny new pieces of information on the shelves.
"This was my mother's," Mira said, as she turned the pages. "And a bedtime story for her crazy daughters."
Huh. Didn't look like much of a bedtime storybook to me, but whatever floated the psychic's boat.
She reached a page, scanned it, and then looked up. "Sometimes," she started, staring at me, talking in the tone of someone reading out a story. "There would be—agitated spirits. Most can't find mediators, you see. They either find them seconds before they use them, or have the guides find them instead."
I remembered that it was Lucy who'd entered my apartment, and the not the other way around. And that Mavis had been as shocked as me to see her, never having found a mediator before.
"Well, these spirits. Sometimes—and very, very rarely—they would be able to hunt down a guide before their time. And the more their agitation grew, the harder it would be for a mediator to control them. It might end up killing the mediator."
Mira paused and glanced at Lucy. "And other times," she continued. "And this too, very rarely, the prolonged contact between a spirit and a guide would start to connect their energy lines together. We all have them," she added, waving a hand. "This might happen if a mediator and a ghost are forced to be together, or if they can co-exist, or even if a mediator is strong enough to resist an angry spirit."
"I'm not an angry spirit," I pointed out, just to settle the matter. They were making my peaceful self sound rather violent and my fragile heart felt insulted.
Lucy, in a hollow voice, echoed my words.
"I know," Mira soothed. "Exactly my point. It's because you two can co-exist without using up any powers that your energy links keeps getting stronger. Now if you had known how to go on, you wouldn't have lasted this long. You would have found a guide and moved on the second you knew."
Mira shut the book, massaging her temples as if the words were giving her a headache. "But if, at some point, the mediator who the spirit needs to move on does succeed—well." Mirajane looked at Lucy, her gaze sorrowful. "The energy link will try to resist. But a spirit can't be stopped once they're ready to move on—and the process is agony for the mediator."
I could feel every part of my body freezing, slowly grasping what she was saying.
"The link is being torn, you see," Mira went on. "It's painful enough for a momentary energy link when a spirit moves on through a mediator. That's why it always hurts a little. For a link built over a long period—it can destroy the mediator, you see."
Very quietly, Lucy raised her head from behind her splayed fingers and looked at Mirajane. My eyes were on Lucy, staring at her as if everything depended on how long I could stare at her face. I felt Mirajane's gaze on me.
Everything was silent. Deadly silent.
I would like to make one humble declaration.
It is very occasionally that I yell. And it is never that I yell at Lucy Heartfilia (excluding our hourly bickering).
Lucy was paper white as she walked down the driveway. Mirajane and Lisanna had exchanged hugs and goodbyes and more offers of lemonade before we left, while I hopped from one foot to another, waiting to get out.
Outside, darkness had fallen and the lamps were alit. As we searched for a cab, I continued to ask Lucy over and over again in a maddeningly loud voice—"What happened in there? What did you mean? What was your theory?"
To all my loud questions, Lucy's reply was silence. She flinched a bit whenever I took my voice a scale higher, and though I felt terrible, I needed answers.
The entire ride in the cab back to the apartment was basically a very noisy ghost and an annoyingly quiet blonde. Lucy just kept staring out of the window at the lights flashing past, clearly thinking of something and tuning me out and I felt sure I was very close to that 'agitated spirit' stage the Strauss freak had been referring to.
Finally I gave up, exhausted. I obviously wasn't getting any proper explanations tonight.
The pizzeria was happy and bustling as we stepped out onto its curb. I could see a group celebrating something by popping champagne bottles and all of it looked rather distant and detached all of a sudden. The strange mystic air inside the Strauss house didn't seem to have left us as we trudged up the stairs to the apartment on top of Belle's.
None of the lights had been lit this night. Lucy stumbled up the stairs behind me as I pushed open our unlocked front door and entered the room first.
As I stepped inside, the first thing I heard was the door shut behind us as Lucy followed. Then, before I could flip the lights on, I suddenly felt something warm against my back.
There was no sound.
I glanced back over my shoulder to see her blonde hair pressed against my back as her arms came around my chest in an odd embrace.
"Are you okay?" Everything was still coated in darkness, and I couldn't make out what was wrong. The only light was the faint glimmer of moonlight filtering through our tiny window and making an uneven glow on the floor.
Lucy's arms just held me tighter, pulling be back towards herself.
Something had changed tonight. Something important, and I'd felt it as we left the Strauss' house. And I could feel it now, in the desperate, urgent grip Lucy had on me, as if I'd disappear if she let go.
Finally, at a painstakingly slow pace, I gently loosened her arms and turned around. She was still a head shorter than me and I had to bend slightly to try and look her in the eye. "Look, we do need to talk about this, okay? If you don't want to right now, it's fine. Don't worry too—"
But she shook her head, still mute, and simply drew her arms around me again. This time, I didn't try to break free. Instead, I wrapped my arms around her slight body too, enveloped in the darkness.
For once, I felt like she genuinely needed to hold onto me and not the other way round.
Her face was pressed against my collar, breathing shallowly against it. It was around a few millennia before she spoke. "Can we please stay like this? For just a little while more."
For some reason, my mind screamed that I wanted us to stay like this for much longer than a little while.
I nodded. The moment felt raw, something so fragile and vulnerable in the dark.
Lucy's arms tightened around my neck. "I'm sorry for getting so mad all the time. I'm sorry for all the screaming and the glass breaking." She half laughed; a short sound that ended quickly. "I'm sorry I'm a shitty mediator."
The uneasy knot in the pit of my stomach kept getting bigger. "Luce, why are you talking like this—like, you're saying goodbye?"
"We have to. Everyone has to, sooner or later." Lucy's hair brushed against my collarbone as she looked up at me through her lashes. I could see teardrops latching onto them. "Let's be glad we at least get to say it."
Without warning, I felt a sudden confused anger roar inside my head. I couldn't believe she wouldn't tell what was going on, and was telling me goodbye instead of explaining.
I couldn't believe her.
"No." I stepped back, pushing her away from me. She lost balance for a second, looking shocked and hurt as she recovered.
"No, Lucy, I'm not playing this little psychic game." I fought to keep my voice level, noticing how weak she looked for a change. "Why are you saying this?"
Lucy was trembling all over. I was trying immensely hard to keep my temper in check, lest something else in this apartment smashed itself to smithereens because of me.
"There's nothing to tell you," she said at last, sounding a bit shaky. "I think I know how to help you—as—as a mediator," she took a deep breath. "And I'm scared, alright? I'm scared that I'm right."
There too many thoughts making my head fuzzy to completely grasp everything she was saying. It was already all I could do not to reach out and wipe the steadily increasing flow of tears down her pale cheeks. "What—help me how?"
"To move on." Lucy was speaking in barely a whisper. It was hardly audible, even a few metres apart. "I've learnt things about you by now, haven't I? And I—well I'm almost sure I know what you need to do."
Realization crashed into me like an oncoming train. "What happens if you tell me?"
She just looked at me. Because I already knew. I knew that if she told me what I'd needed to do, I'd have no other purpose left. I would have no choice but to unblock all the human memories and go back to the unfinished one.
And if I finished it—
"I can't go on," I was speaking out loud before I knew it, hearing the shock in my own voice. "Not with your help. The energy link, your friend said it'll destroy a mediator…"
When she spoke, Lucy sounded absolutely determined. "That's not what I'm worried about."
"Lucy, you can't tell me—I don't want to know, alright?"
I saw pity in her eyes. I wasn't sure if it was for me or herself. "It's just going to be more painful for both of us. For me to keep it from you is…selfish. And I'm not even sure yet."
"I don't want you to be sure. I don't want to know." I repeated the words like a broken record. A madman desperate to get away from the truth. "I want you to be selfish."
In the darkness, all I could see were Lucy's dark brown eyes glitter with a fierce, sad light. "I want to be selfish too."
And when she closed the gap between us and kissed me, I felt as if I belonged to nothing and to nowhere but Lucy, right there in that tiny dark room. When she kissed me, I tasted our shared anger, desperation and a sudden urgency to be as tightly wound to one another as possible. My hands gripped her waist, and hers laced into my hair and I silently kissed away her tears. When she kissed me, I stopped thinking about what was right and what wasn't, because all that really mattered were her lips on mine, her faint perfume filling up my head, all her unspoken fears in that one single kiss.
It was the saddest and the most beautiful moment in, and after, my whole life.
That's it! (yes, I know, finally). I really hope you liked the chapter and please, please do drop in a review. It really encourages me to keep writing. Thanks for reading. :)