sea shells | natsu dragneel

chapter twenty two

•∞•

Truly, you're giddiness just seemed endless. Like a bottomless pit, no, more like a bottomless ocean- layers and layers of feelings that collide upon impact, creating a humongous waves that wash up on the beach, splattering against the sand. And they keep going, on and on. 

I skipped through the many coloured houses of Begonia Street- pastel blue, bubblegum pink, apple green. Shadows casted over them, but they weren't able to dim the bright colors, empowered by the moon. 

And as I neared my temporary home, I slowed. 

A figure seemed to lie, crumpled, next to the steps leading to my doorstep. 

With hesitant steps, I made my way up to the stranger. He was a man- around my age, pale, despite the black and blue that blotched his porcelain skin. I gasped- lurching forward to check his pulse, trying hard not to stare at the ring of purple around his right eye and the way blood was still soaking through his white shirt under his black jacket. 

I waited in agony, two fingers on his neck. 

Thump. 

"Oh thank goodness," I breathed out loud, dropping to the floor on my ass in relief. 

I stared at him once again- what a strange man. With a newfound strength, I slung his arm over my shoulders and heaved him up. I almost fell back down at the sheer weight of him- damn, this dude has packed some muscle on him. Or he's eaten too many donuts.  

I shuffle my way up the steps, the passed-out man a heavy weight that I wouldn't be able to keep up for long. 

I unlock the door, kick it open, and dump him on my couch. 

"Alright, alright... where is that kit? I know you're here somewhere..." I murmur, going through the kitchen cupboards in a hurry, opening and closing. "Aha!" I cry, stumbling across the green first-aid kit under the sink. "Now, let's get started on you, you irresponsible man..." 

His POV

The sun beamed down on me- hot and uninvited. 

Don't I always close the curtains? Actually, I'm pretty sure I taped them shut a couple days ago. Every little corner where light comes through, covered by black duct tape. 

Why were they open?

* 

"Hey- you'll pay for taking our job, you bastard," the first growls, aiming another kick at my stomach. I coughed- blood splattering across the tiles. My blood. 

"Yeah, beat him to pulp, no one messes with Grimoire Heart and gets away with it, ya her?" the second yells, swiping me from the floor by the collar of my shirt. He crashes me against the wall- I hear something crack, but everything is going hazy. I can just barely make out my attacker's faces. 

He punches me in the stomach- I double over, collapsing, knees hitting the floor hard. 

"Get up." 

My hands shake as I plant them in front of me. But my elbows refuse to collaborate. 

"Get up."

My legs sway and shudder. 

But I wasn't fast enough. 

A swift kick to my nose, the back of my head crashing against the stone wall. And then, everything goes black. 

*

I groan. Oh yeah. I crawled as far away as I could from them. Fuck, they're going to kill me for not reporting back. 

"Well, I see someone's awake." 

I shoot up- legs on the floor, fists tight and ready to hit. They've come back. But I did it so quickly, my head lurches, and I stumble back. 

"Hey, be careful you idiot!" 

I register the soft- no, more like scolding- tone of a female voice, and delicate, warm hands on my arms, leading me back to the couch I was previously lying on. "No need to panic, I'm not going to do anything," the woman grumbles in annoyance.

She throws a blanket over me; I blink, feeling the tingling sensation of my wound healing and care-filled bandages keeping them from infection.

This woman, in Fairy Tail territory, had helped me.

In shock, I let her inspect my black-eye- I stare at her furrowed eyebrows; her concentrating (e/c) eyes. I realized, with a startle, how lovely they were. Like the precious jewels found deep in the roots of the Lonely Mountain. 

"Well, the good news is, nothing seems to be infected," she says, pulling away. Her warmth went away as well. "But the bad news is, they're going to take a while to heal. So no excessive sport or training, do you understand?" the stranger adds sternly, staring at me like a mother would at a child.

Without reason, I nod, gulping.

And without reason on her part, at least I think so, she breaks into a smile.

"I'm (y/n), nice to meet you, emo boy," she grins, standing up straight. (y/n) is wearing a pair of high-waisted jeans, a black shirt tucked into them. Golden bracelets dangle at her wrists, a matching necklace around her neck.

I look straight at her, at those (e/c) eyes full of spunk. "My name is Rogue, Rogue Cheney. It is nice to meet you as well, (y/n)."