Forgotten

2.

Strangely, she never dreamed of anything.
All her dreams were colored in black.

The sound of the rain smacking the windows like pebbles, woke her up.
It was seven in the morning, and the day was July twenty-eighth.
Did she change the calender yesterday?
She doesn't know, but perhaps it has been July twenty-eighth for the last couple of days, months, or even years.

She doesn't remember where she placed her coat, but she remembers that it was red in color. The color of the blood.

Suddenly, there came a knock on her door.
Conceivably it could be anyone she met, the newspaper man, the mail man, or an old lady lady at the flower shop with the bouquet of flowers, so she opened it, warily and peeked outside.

There was a man in a long black coat, with a faint smile.
Erza scrutinized him, his serrated jaws, his tired looking eyes, his pale skin tone and his lean, incapacitated body.
Who was he?

"Hey." His voice, rough but breathy.
He pushed forth his hand in front, and he was holding a coat. Red in color. The color of the blood.

"Who are you?" Erza softly asked.
"I-uh...I came to give you your coat back."
"My coat?" Erza frowned.
"Yea..." He was breathing heavily.
Somehow, Erza was too scared to take-what he says is her coat-from the stranger.

"Who are you..?" She asked again, it was more like a whisper.
"I'm Gray, you uh..know me." He raised his brows.

"Gray?" The name flowed out of Erza's mouth like she had said it a million times already.
He smiled.
Nonetheless, It could be that she might have met him, or stumbled upon him and they might have talked, might have laughed and shared stories.
Slowly, she reached out her hand and he passed her coat back to her.

"I-I will be going now.." He said gravelly.
"Thank you." She replied and the stranger turned around, straightaway heading towards the elevator frailly.