Divinity abandoned. Laxus x OC

Chapter Thirtythree

A deep sigh left Satomi as she scraped a claw impatiently on the table-top in front of her. Her eyes pinned to the book placed on the surface, the scent of coffee filling the air.

Waiting. Possibly the dreariest thing she knew of.

The circumstances she found herself in certainly didn't help her mood either.

A quest addressing a series of suspicious break in's and theft, had turned out to be a vary father, worried for his daughter. The quest sheet she'd selected hadn't mentioned anything about acting as a body guard. Or rather, babysitting. At least that was what it felt like.

The girl she was assigned to look after was just a teenager. A spoiled, bratty one at that. They'd hit an immediate impass, as the girl had made it perfectly clear she wanted nothing to do with Satomi, telling her to go back home. But the mage was bound by her client's contract, and thus had no such thing in mind. Even though she would've liked to.

Her grey, feline eyes slid deeper into the clothes store, as her client's daughter -Georgie- emerged from the dressing room. Her shopping spree turning out to be a daily venture, apparently. The doe eyed blonde beamed and twirled, spining around on the floor outside the dressing room in the green dress she'd donned. Her friend squealed and clapped in enthusiasm, singing praises. Satomi fought to hold back the urge to roll her eyes. 

At least it wasn't her money they were spending. She turned back to her book, sipping her coffee in the waiting area. Two hours had already passed despite the fact that the store was smaller than Marie's workshop, and the clothes far tackier. It was rare for her, she supposed, to think she missed the overbearing, hotheaded seamstress. But the jovial shopkeeper in this place was doing a brilliant job of milking the spoiled girl that'd stepped into her shop. Something her mentor would never do to her customers. 

Georgie had quickly proven herself prone to buy anything the shopkeeper showed her, claiming it was all the rage in Krokus. Having recently visited the capital herself, before the complete demolition of the flower city, Satomi was well informed that the woman was infact a lying snake. But as Georgie and her less than charming friend, Terin, had informed her - it wasn't her business. 

Satomi had better things to do than waste energy bickering with children. Like reading, for instance. An occupation she thought far more sensible than babysitting for sure. So she left the teens to their indulgence, not caring one bit about the outrageous amount of clothes in the girl's yes pile. Just like she had ignored the one she'd amassed yesterday, which had been even bigger. 

Another sigh escaped her as she flipped a page in her book, struggling with finding her concentration. Both from listening to the piercing squeals of the two girls which kept making other customers turn their heads, and from the restlessness that'd been prickling her ever since leaving Magnolia. 

It was leaving the city, the guild, her home, that was making her restless. At least that was what she was fighting to convince herself. Especially while struggling not to glance in the direction of the screening lacrima displayed on the wall to her right in the sitting area, portraying a live feature of a particular resturant based in Hargeon. 

If it was fate, then fate was a cruel, cruel thing. A wicked, sadistic goddess, which relished in Satomi's agony. No... That just sounded like her father. Though she doubted that the deathgod would choose the method of dangling her mate infront of her via lacrima would be his first choice of inflicting torment. 

Three days. It'd been just three days since she'd last seen him, and yet- 

"Aren't those guys from the same guild as you?" Satomi flinched slightly, not having realized that her mind had drifted off. Georgie now stood with her arms crossed over her chest beside the sofa Satomi lounged in, eyes trained on the lacrima on the wall. Satomi glanced from the page in her book which she'd been unable to read as much as a word of, to the lacrima. Her eyes flickered around the image, searching for the tall, muscular blonde. The image was focused on Freed, currently waitering a table.