Just Another Fairy Tail (18+) | ✔

{6}

Heaven's ominous plans fade away as a small shadow fills the doorway, blocking the light that was coming from the hall.

"Hi," Rebecca murmurs. She gives a slight wave to the others who have actually taken it upon themselves to pause their game and gawk at her. "Uh, Kai. Can I... Can I talk to you?"

And there's that stutter that I fell in love with. It had faded a bit into the background yesterday, so much so that I thought she was actually getting more comfortable with me. But unless the conversation she is requesting has something to do with that, I think I'm a bit out of luck.

"Sure," I say. I hop up from my spot on the floor and murmuring a 'see ya' to my friends, I make my way towards Rebecca.

She's changed out of her uniform and is now wearing a pair of cropped sweats and a skin-tight t-shirt with a cartoon egg on it, that has me stiffening slightly in my pants. I look away immediately—not wanting to ogle her—and make pointed eye contact with her. As I step into the hallway, waiting for her to speak, she jerks her head in the direction of our bedroom, towards the end of the hall.

Once we're inside, I notice that a couple of her boxes are open, but nothing has actually been moved around or removed. "So what did you want to talk about?" I ask as she shuts the door behind us.

Rebecca bites her lip, the look on her face pensive. "Look, I'm... I'm sorry, okay? I wasn't very nice to you, and you were just being kind and trying to be... well a bit more than friendly, actually... But that's beside the point. What I'm trying to say is, I guess I kinda like you too, so let's give this thing a shot?" The last part comes out as a question, and not as the statement I assume she meant it as.

But I smile at her awkwardness. "Yeah?"

"Yeah... If you, if you still want to, that is."

"Of course I want to," I exclaim, coming over to envelope her in my arms. Squeezing her tightly against my chest, I don't attempt to pull her any closer from fear that she'll feel the half-chub that is currently being restrained by the school slacks I hadn't yet changed out of. I feel and hear her pulse quicken, and am acutely aware that her blood has likely rushed her cheeks. But I don't let her go, I hold her tighter, waiting for that wonderful moment when she finally wraps her arms around me in reciprocation of my embrace. "But I thought you wanted to get to know me better before I 'slapped the label of girlfriend on your forehead,'" I echo her statement from before.

She finally attempts to pull away but doesn't get far with my arms banded across her lower back. "Oh, I do," she laughs. "But I was more hoping that you could tell me about yourself while also assembling the bookshelf that I, thankfully, didn't put together yesterday."

I tighten my arms around her as I give a full belly laugh. "So I'm here as muscle, that's it?"

"Only partially," she corrects, blushing deeper than before.

"Show me the bookshelf!"

She laughs as she directs me to one of the few boxes that hasn't been taped over twice and hands me a small toolbox.

I open it, but don't find any type of scissor or knife with which to cut the tape and out of fear of damaging something inside, I wait until Rebecca turns her back on me and shift my hand partially so that I can use one of my claws to open the box. Once it's open, I gently pull out all of the parts, along with the instructions. As I put together the first two surprisingly hefty pieces of the shelf, I begin to feel Rebecca's eyes on me. Adding a screw to the second shelf piece, I wait for what is likely a barrage of questions to rain down on me.

"So... what's your favorite color?"

It's simple. Yet it's so like her that I don't comment on it. Most people assume that what's important would be favorite candies or foods, but I'm quite certain that based on the plants that fill the room, a gift in the form of a new ficus would be worth more to Rebecca than all the diamonds in the world. It has always been the little things that count the most.

"Royal blue, almost ultramarine. It was my mom's favorite," I clarify, at the risk of sounding like a dork. It's just more vibrant, and it was also the color of her screwdriver, which I will take as a sign from the gods. "And you?"

"I'm fond of all colors, though I am partial to green," she says.

"'Cause of the plants right?" I ask, adding a screw to the next piece of her bookshelf. I hear her breaths falter, and her heart skips a few beats causing me to look up, fearing suddent medical distress, but instead find her fighting away a blush with quick inhales.

"Uh, yeah... What kind of movies do you like?"

"I like action movies and anything that isn't Twilight, because Leah deserved a happy ending and Stephanie Meyer was too much of a homophobe to make the Jacob and Renesmee thing actually make sense," I say.

"And so it begins," Rebecca sighs. "Do you have anything good to say regarding that series?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely not. What movies do you like?" I don't give her a chance to force me to elaborate further on my hatred for Twilight.

"I like action movies, as well as the obligatory chick-flick every once in a while. And Twilight," she murmurs the last bit under her breath, but with my heightened senses, I hear it anyway.

"What was that?" I ask, glancing up at her as without looking I put another layer of the shelf in the bookcase and screw it in place.

Rebecca's cheeks redden, and she fumbles with the little spritz bottle she had been using to water her plants. "Nothing," she grumbles.

"Favorite cartoon dog?" This time I ask the question, ignoring her odd fascination with pedophilic supernatural creature that will never provide an accurate description of werewolf kind.

"Oh, that's easy. Droopy!" Her words come out as an exclamation, and I can practically see the giddiness in her entire body. Her happiness illuminates the room and it seems as though it isn't just me who knows it. A couple of her plants, one of the weird shaped ones that I remember touching yesterday begin to almost gravitate toward her. "He didn't have his own cartoon though," she seems to remeber, and the plants droop to their original positions. Its definitely not normal, but I just assume it's not actually happening and continue putting together her bookshelf. "What about you?"

"The one with the little purple dog with only three toes."

"You mean Courage? He's one of my favorites too," Rebecca smiles, and once again the room seems to brighten.

I smile back at her, no longer looking as I place the final screw in the bookshelf. As I finally stand, pulling the shelf up as I do, having put it together on its side, an idea occurs to me. "What's your uh... What's your favorite flower?"

"Poppies," she says, pointing to the three small pots that reside atop her boxes of clothes. "Why? What's yours?"

"I don't know much about flowers... but I think I might be partial to poppies," I croon.

Rebecca turns a shade of pink, taking a couple steps backward as well. "Oh," she whispers.

I laugh as it seems that that's all I'll be getting out of her. We continue on with questions, occasionally slipping into half-hearted arguments over Supernatural and Twilight, as we arrange the room.

By the time we've completed everything, night has fallen and only our toiletries remain unpacked. We lay on the bed, side by side, my laptop propped up on the wall of pillows between us that Rebecca insisted on, watching cartoons until finally, Rebecca falls asleep.

I don't go immediately after, taking the time to put my laptop away and take one last look at her sleeping face.

Twilight may have made it creepy, but as I watch her face, her pink lips puckered slightly as she sleeps in the bed beside me, I smile knowing I've made more progress than I could have hoped for in less than twelve hours.

😊✌🏼