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‑ˏˋ 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐋𝐕𝐄 ˊˎ‑
𝐈 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐁𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐄𝐃 at him. For some reason, I was trying to process what he had said. It wasn't sticking; get this session started? And then ― like I was hit in the head with a frying pan ― I whirled around to stare at Mirajane, who sat with her leg dangling over the other. Her arms were spread across the top of the sofa, and that look in her eyes made me turn right back around.
"I'm sorry, but I think there's been a mistake," I began, only to stop when Mirajane spoke from behind me.
"There's no mistake, Natsu. You're here because you are going to start seeing Gildarts every week," she said. The springs in the couch groaned, signaling to me that she had stood. I froze when she gripped my shoulder with her hand. "And you're going to do it, but not for me. For Lisanna," she whispered in my ear, "right?"
I nodded my head rapidly, gulping in the process. I was going to end up passing out if she keeps scaring me like this. My attention was soon to Gildarts when he cleared his throat. He went to grab a clipboard from the coffee table in front of him, flipping through the pages. Suddenly, Mirajane gripped the collar of my shirt, throwing me down on the couch. God, help me.
She pointed at the floor with a sole finger. "You will sit and you will stay. Understand?"
"Yes, ma'am." I could hear Gildarts snickering at my response. However, I knew that if he were in my position, he wouldn't be so bold. Mirajane proceeded to stare down at me before she pivoted on her foot.
"I need to go back to my shop," she looked at me pointedly from the corner of her eye. "Make sure he doesn't leave this room until he stops thinking about suicide."
I lowered my gaze in shame. It's not like I was proud of it. In fact, I hated myself because of it. I knew that those thoughts were contaminated, poisonous to my mind and body ― there wasn't a doubt about it. I didn't like that feeling at all.
Before I knew it, Mirajane had left and it was just the two of us ― me and Gildarts. Almost the very instant she leaves, Gildarts leans forward to watch the door intently. I followed his gaze, looking between him and the door. He suddenly threw the clipboard behind him, causing a vase to teeter before settling once more.
"What's your favorite color?" he asks.
I'm not sure how to answer that. Was this a trick? I wasn't too sure. Is he being serious? Probably not. Is he crazy? It's looking like it. But the main question that was coursing through my brain was ― and I seem to be saying this a lot lately ― what the hell?
"I'm sorry?" I manage to get out, but it's shoved back down my throat when Giladrta repeats the same question. At this point, I was seriously considering leaving, but Mirajane told me to sit and stay.
I'm fully aware that I don't bark and don't have fur, but there's no way I'm going to disobey her. That was like having a death wish, and I'm trying not to have those ― thank you very much. I try to express my confusion to Gildarts again. "Why are you asking me this?"
Gildarts cracked his knuckles, each loud pop making me flinch. "A lot of other people don't approve of my way with helping my patients. I like to get to know them better before I tell them what's wrong with them. That way they trust me and open up a little more to me. In other words, I want them to feel comfortable in a way they don't have to feel forced to talk," Gildarts stopped to stare at me, then continued. "Right now, you don't want to say a single thing about what's going on ― and that's completely understandable.
"But by the time you don't have to have to see me anymore, we're gonna be the best of friends," he crossed his fingers with a wide grin on his face. I think it grew more when I shied away from the beast of a man. "So I'll ask again. What's your favorite color?"
I tried to hide my huff of annoyance, shrugging my shoulders. "I... haven't given it much thought."
"So give it some thought now. Or are you one of those people who don't want a favorite color because you're afraid of making the other colors jealous?"
I was ready to give Gildarts a look that questioned his mental health, but something he just said made me stop. Making the other colors jealous? I knew someone who thought that way, though I couldn't remember. I scratched the top of my head, completely invested in figuring out who that was. It was someone I personally knew; that much I did know, but who was it?
"Are you really thinking that hard about it, or are you pretending?"
I nearly fell off the couch at Gildarts' voice, grappling at the cushions in order to stay on the sofa. Gildarts eyes widened slightly at my reaction, his once wide grin turning upside down. I sat there for a moment, debating on whether or not to actually tell him. "I wasn't pretending."
Gildarts' smile returned. "So?"
"Hell, I don't know!" I fumbled with my words, going through all the colors of the damn rainbow so he would stop asking me that same question. "Red! That's my favorite color, okay?"
"Two things," he held up the same amount of fingers. "No more potty language, and do you know where I put my clipboard?"
I couldn't even speak; I was that dumbfounded. Just who was this guy to tell me how to speak? And how does he forget that he threw the clipboard and almost shattered a vase? All I could do at this point was to use my finger and point to the area behind his chair. Getting on his knees, Gildarts looked over the edge of his seat, a sound of triumph escaping him.
In one quick minute, Gildarts had retrieved his clipboard and put a piece of paper in front of me, pointing to the strings of sentences. "I want you to fill out this piece of paper," he began, "and I want you to bring it back to me once you're finished with it. Try to really think about these things before you write your answers."
"And how is this supposed to help me?" I questioned, taking the paper between two fingers. I scanned over the questions briefly, noticing that these were questions like the one he tried to get me to answer earlier.
"This exercise is to help you think more about the little things ― get you to change your daily habits if you want it worded differently. I believe there's a lot that people don't actually know about themselves, and this is supposed to help with that," Gildarts paused for a moment. Because of this, I glanced up at him as he set a hand on my shoulder. "Natsu, you've forgotten who you are. Now, I'm not trying to get you to remake yourself. I'm doing this so you find yourself and continue to be that person."
I quirked an eyebrow. "And you think by changing the fact that I swear will help?"
"I don't appreciate the sarcasm, but yes," he pushed the tip of my nose with his finger. "No more potty language, mister."
