▶┆Chapter ninety-two 
❝I'm a lost river that'll never reach the sea.❞
▶Author's note◀ :
Heyo! I realize it has been a very long time since I updated this story. I apologize for that, and I'll try my hardest to get things done. I love you guys!! Enjoy!~ <3
★·.·'¯'·.·★ иσямαℓ ρ.σ.ν. ★·.·'¯'·.·★
SHE HAD LOST COUNT of the days she spent caged in the musty cell. Perhaps it had been mere days, maybe hours, for all she knew she'd been there for months. She had been attempting to track the time, but as time passed the minutes and hours blurred together like a watercolor painting. Different hues bled into each other, and just like that, her mind seemed unable of keeping up with the tiresome and unyielding circle of time.
Her eyes would sometimes stray to the window, curious and desperate for something to occupy her mind. The world seemed to dull down to an unbearable loop; the same monotonous events happened. She was all alone, never quite there, but still physically stuck in her cage. Life was only a walking shadow; slow and like a candle. Once it was blown out, you were left with nothing. You signified nothing. How many people were wondering where she was? How meaningless was she truly?
Lucy watched the dust trail through the air, and suddenly wished for the ache in her bones to disappear. It still lingered in her, the foreboding and excruciating pain that had came as a result of her beating. The blonde still felt awful, even though so much time had passed. Perhaps she had broken a bone and it had healed wrong. Or perhaps she was just sore due to the lack of comfort and the lack of nutrition. She was freezing, constantly trembling and rubbing her quivering limbs. Her head was foggy, and her lips were always parched and cracked.
Her groggy mind could barely cling to the idea of escape. But it still was there; a tempting thought. Like a shiny red apple, it was delectable, appealing, and desirable. What she would give to be strong enough to try to leave.
Lucy forced herself up, her eyelids were heavy and her body sluggish and weak. She felt her muscles groan, and made the decision to flop back down on the floor. More sleep. That's what she needed. Maybe a little more time to recuperate would lead to her being healthy enough to finally set herself free.
The only highlight of her day was Kaden—he was the only one who showed her a lick of kindness. Of course, it was when everyone wasn't looking. He brought her books and drawing materials. He comforted her and swore she'd be let out eventually—that it was okay because the master still needed her. That she shouldn't be afraid of death—that the master wouldn't kill her yet because he still needed her.
It was all she had. Even if he wasn't truly her friend, it was all she had. Everything she had once treasured had disappeared. And they didn't care about her anymore, now did they?
For a moment, an inkling of a thought swept through Lucy's brain. She wondered if any of her old friends were worried about her—if they ever sat down and actually mourned her disappearance? The thought was preposterous, and she brushed it off immediately. She'd rather cling to her desperate attempt at escape then put faith into false promises that her friends might still care about her.
After everything that had happened, how could she ever believe they still cared? After everything, after all the heartbreak and sorrow, she had seen just how cruel they could truly be. Why would there be any vague feelings of kindness for her in their cold hearts? If they even had hearts, that is...
'Of course they have hearts...somewhere...in their bottomless pit-like chests. Everything has to have a heart...even if they refuse to show it,' Lucy thought to herself. Sure, it was easier to say that they had no hearts—that they were just mean and would treat any kind person the same way they had treated her.
Yet, she knew someone might come along someday. Someone better than her in all aspects. And she'd be no more than a stain in the rug—an unfriendly reminder of what they used to be. Maybe they'd grow to be kind. They'd learn how to treat others fairly, and Lucy would finally feel peace. Or perhaps the need for revenge would cloud her senses once more.
Her hazy eyes blinked lazily, and in this muddled version of reality, Lucy allowed herself to think about Laxus. To truly think about him—this time with no scornful thoughts, or betrayed aches. In her mind, she could block that all out. In her mind, she could ignore that he had left her—that he had made blood drip down her face like vermillion paint. She could forget how awful his words made her feel—how alone and alienated she had once felt.
Now, she just imagined him as she once remembered him. With soft and sleek blond locks and a razor smirk, she could see him. Could almost feel his warm muscly arms around her shoulders. The blonde girl could recall a much simpler time, a time where it was just Laxus, Happy, and her against the world.
Closing her eyes again, she allowed the bliss-filled feeling to fade. It was fake anyway. All lies, meant to give her a false sense of security. Nothing was happy—and even if she did manage to escape, there would be no Laxus waiting patiently for her. There would be no joyful reunion.
So much time had passed. Laxus could hardly believe that it had been months since he had seen Lucy last. It truly was preposterous to him—life was still moving on. People were still living and breathing; they were still smiling and laughing. As if they didn't have a care in the world. Laxus didn't have that luxury. He didn't think he would ever again.
The loss of Lucy had hit many people hard, propelling many to isolate themselves and throw themselves entirely into finding her. Laxus felt incomplete without her, and always felt restless. He took as many jobs as he possibly could, all in the hopes he would stumble upon her. Every dark guild related job was snatched off the board within minutes.
If it wasn't Laxus hoarding those jobs in hopes of finding her, then it was someone else. Gray, Natsu, Juvia, Erza, Levy, Jellal. So many people who were determined to help find Lucy, and bring her home.
Laxus was always exhausted—especially after returning from a mission empty-handed. It constantly felt like he was living life half-empty. Like there was a part of himself missing—truly, there was. Lucy was his other half—like a star that fell from heaven; different than anyone he had ever met.
What would he do without her? Could he even live without her? Was there even a point to a world without his blondie?
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