Rogue Cheney x Reader

Chapter 40 : Dismal, No Matter What Angle

[ a/n ]:

no guys

im not dead. and neither is this story.

im merely a terrible author, about to upload an equally terrible [ or more ] chapter. Just know that I am genuinely sorry for not having updated since - when was that?

July. God. I really have failed as a writer.

Also, it's nearly time for my exams. Which means there will be no updates - but that doesn't really deviate from the normal, does it?

- Acnologia_Slayer

x

"Laxus!" a distant voice yelled. You and Sting turned to each other, as if the answer was hidden somewhere in either of your faces.

"Isn't that. . .Freed?"  Sting wondered, sounding quite unsure of himself. You shrugged, and, quite suddenly, a man, with long, lime green hair, clad in red, had come into view.

"Freed!" Sting exclaimed, quite relieved to have bumped into another person. The man, Freed, turned to Sting and looked at him in bewilderment, before realization dawned on him.

"Sting!"

Sting jogged up to him, and you followed suit, careful to avoid the sharper bits of rubble that poked out of the ground.

"Have you seen anybody from Sabertooth?" Sting asked, before adding: "You know, besides the two of us."

Freed nodded and pointed at a random direction, saying that was where he last saw Yukino. He did the same, pointing to a different direction, saying that was where he last saw Rogue and the others.

Your heart leaped at the mention of Rogue.

Freed had run off after that, saying that he was going to look for Laxus. Sting looked at you, "Hey, (Y/N), I think it's best if we split off here."

You didn't say anything.

"I'm going over to where Yukino is, I know you want to know if Rogue's alright," he said softly, "I'm going to be fine."

"I'm not leaving you alone," you said firmly.

He huffed. "I'm the Guild Master of Sabertooth, I can handle myself," he gave a reassuring, toothy grin, and you could feel your heart wrench.

What if that idiotic smile of his was going to be his last?

"This better not be the last time I see that retarded face of yours," you warned, putting up a front so Sting wouldn't find out how worried you were.

"Likewise."

Reluctantly, you spun around, and you ran away from Sting, careful not to look back - because you didn't want to picture anything other than that big, toothy grin of his.

You didn't realize how important Sting was to you until that moment. He was like a big brother to you; retarded more often than not, but he was sweet and caring, and he always knew how to make you laugh.

You would be devastated if Sting was gone. And yet, not once, did you change your mind and turn around.

x

You pushed your thoughts of Rogue to the very back of your mind, knowing that if you kept at it, you would soon spiral into an abyss of pessimism and drown in it.

So you busied yourself by running. You started running faster and faster across the same desolate, rubble-filled terrain. Your only guide was the direction Freed had given, and, even if it was too vague for your liking, it was all you had.

So you kept running - and you didn't stop.

You didn't stop when a stray shard of glass had sliced clean through the skin above your ankle; you didn't stop even when your lungs were screaming, begging for air. Because you knew that if you stopped -

You might just be too late.