residue

title: residue
summary: He will always be an emotionally manipulative bastard, and she will always have more issues than Vogue. — modern!au, natsu/lucy
dedication: to my darling mirajens (thisisn'tmiraxusbutwecanpretend)
muse: let her go (cover) — boyce avenue and hannah trigwell
notes: It's… very messy. The dysfunction is ridiculous. A tad nonsensical. Apologies all round for this one, really.


:

residue

:
It is only four and a half hours into the wedding — after she's spilled red wine on her damned blue dress and been smacked in the face by the bride's bouquet; after she's watched him spoon-feeding wedding cake with icing brighter than his damned pink hair to his new bride; after she's successfully given the speech he had her write over a damned year ago — that Lucy concedes she really, really shouldn't have come.
She can't deal with this any longer.
The receipt for the black dress she bought for her father's funeral is still valid. It has only been worn once. Most people don't even know yet, although that's a given considering she hasn't told anyone except for him.
But there stands Laxus on the obnoxiously gilded stage, ever the begrudging host at his in-law's reception, announcing it into the microphone in a slightly exasperated voice. And of course it's traditional for the bride to take the floor first, but Mr Strauss is just a two-decade memory, so Lucy watches Makarov's face stretch into an impossibly wider smile across the room, as if taking Lisanna's hand at that moment is the only thing that could have made this night any better.
Lucy takes a deep breath, and leans against the wall. The wine's starting to taste a little bitter. She sips slowly, and pretends her wan smile doesn't match the flavour.
She knows he's watching her. And she knows it's not out of concern for a girl who just lost her parent.
Ha. That's hilarious. Him? Concerned for her?
The smile, slow to come, is forced to stay where it is. Her eyes won't stray from the dancefloor. She will not meet his gaze.
.
.
.
.
.
In some other world, she definitely could have been happy for them. In some world when everything and everyone was different, and Lucy didn't know him the way she does, and Lisanna wasn't sick the way she is, and he hadn't fallen in love with the wrong one first.
Although truth be told, she doesn't know if she'd be happy for them even in some world where she wasn't the wrong one. Lucy's just possessive like that.
But common courtesy demands that he marry the dying one, right? Isn't that how it is?
She inhales deeply, letting her lungs burn with smoke.
She really disgusts herself.
The girl's dying, they're childhood sweethearts, Lucy's her bridesmaid, for fuck's sake. Is she really going to do this?
Well, she already is. This damned game they always play. Because it is just like that, isn't it? It's just like a game between stupid little kids, seeing who can take the most pain before they back out. Except they're not kids; they're twisted, fucked up adults who love like rivals and fight like lovers.
She lets out a quiet hum of discomfort when the heat of the cigarette threatens her fingers. It's almost burned out already.
She really… really can't deal with it any longer.
.
.
.
.
.
"Where are you going?"
Her body tenses reflexively. "I just stepped out for a smoke, Natsu. I'm not running away."
"No-one said anything about running away."
"Hmm." She glances over, looking him in the eye for the first time that night, before turning away to crush the smoked-out butt. She expects him to go back inside; and still Lucy can't find it in herself to be surprised when he elects to lean against the alley wall beside her instead. She doesn't hold back her smirk. "Your bride will start wondering where you are."
Natsu rolls his shoulders leisurely, ignoring her. A low rumble sounds from his throat as the tension in his muscles is relieved. When she raises an eyebrow at him, he catches it. "What?" He cracks his neck. "I can't get tired at my own wedding?"
"You can do whatever you want."
It's his turn to smirk. He offers her the fresh pack he's dug from his inside pocket, a cigarette already between his teeth; she declines, but lights him up regardless. They stand in silence for a few minutes, Lucy's eyes on him, Natsu's half-lidded as he blows plumes of smoke out lazily.
"You do look pretty tired, though," she observes eventually. "All worn out."
He looks faintly angry when he looks at her. "So do you."
"I'm not."
"So you say."
"I'm fine, idiot." Lucy stretches her bare arms above her head. It's a mildly cold night. "I'm always fine, aren't I?"
"Mmm."
"Natsu—"
"Yeaaah." He takes the cigarette between his fingers. "You're fine, you're fine. I can see that."
Silence settles again when Lucy doesn't respond. She narrows her eyes furiously, rolling them when she realises that Natsu is now closing his eyes and leaning his head back against the bricks as if trying to sleep.
The words slip out. "Congratulations." His eyes don't open. "O-On your wedding." She waits for him to say something. He doesn't. She sucks her teeth for a moment before continuing, "Lisanna seems happy."
It works. "What are you doing mentioning her for?" he growls. The anger is more apparent in his eyes now, the gray smouldering coldly. "Are you really going to do this?"
Is she really going to do this?
Lucy goes on carelessly, "You guys looked so cute when you were feeding the cake to each other, I almost cried, seriously. You're perfect together. I'm sure you'll be really happy, even—"
"—the fuck do you think you're saying? You—"
"—sick, I know you guys will get through it. You're strong like that, you know? And you finally found a girl who can put up with you—"
"—stop it, Lucy—"
"—only hope she'll be able to handle your—"
"—fucking stop it, Lucy!" His hands slam her wrists to the bricks by her head, giving her stinging grazes. Her breathing speeds up when she realises how close he is to her. His own breath is hot and fast against her cheek, his eyes dark and terrifying. He probably doesn't realise that his body is pressing against hers with more force than needed to pin her to the wall.
But after a few seconds, she recovers from the shock and regains her breath, and she's starts again. "Lucky you, Natsu," she whispers, grinning at him wickedly, "to have found such a perfect life partner so young. I only hope you enjoy the time— Ahh!"
Lucy flinches into the wall, her arms pushing against Natsu's when he scrapes them harshly against the stone. She glares at him, refusing to be intimidated by the fury she finds on his face. It's only now that she realises she's shaking.
Is she really going to do this?
"I told you…" He leans, impossibly, closer to her so that his face is only a few inches from hers. "To shut the…" — the heat of his body is all-consuming — "…fuck…" — his lips brush against hers — "up."
They kiss like they hate each other.
Lucy does.
"Cheater cheater," she breaths into his mouth when he finally pulls back. He's panting as hard she is, but her cheeks are more flushed. She is much more aware of him against her. Lord knows she can tell he is.
"Lucy." Natsu's voice is a growl. Before she can respond, he's devouring her again.
He's always doing things like this. He's the one who started the game, after all; he's the one who taught her the thrill of waking up with bruises, and leaving the scar of her teeth on his shoulder. He's the one who taught her to kiss another man with her eyes wide open, challenging him across the room to take it further.
He's the one. Natsu's the one. He started it. But is she really going to do this? Isn't this too far? Isn't it too much?
She has to press her lips together when his teeth find purchase on her neck.
.
.
.
.
.
"You should go back inside."
"You're right."
"Lisanna will be waiting for you."
"Not yet."
"Hey…"
"I will, I'll go. Soon."
"'Kay."
…
"It's cold."
"Yeah. Your dress is short."
"Shut up."
"Ha…"
.
.
.
.
.
His lips move to form words against the base of her throat before he lets out a shallow breath. He pulls her away from the wall just in time to feel her shudder into him, holding her closer than what should be possible for one tiny, tiny moment, before pushing her away almost roughly. The grin he gives her is twisted, full of a craving that she still doesn't understand.
She doesn't move when he turns away from her without a backwards glance, clutching his suit jacket to her shoulders. The door closes behind him loudly, echoing some false sense of finality, leaving her alone in streetlamp darkness once again.
He is a ghost on her skin. I love you, Lucy Heartfilia.
She knows, of course. He can only hurt her like this because he does.
.
.
.
.
.
Natsu.
He is to her as whiskey is to the most hopeless alcoholic.
She hates him. With every fibre of her being, she hates him. She hates the nights he leaves, and for making her cry. He hates him for marrying someone that isn't her, and for his kindness to everyone else. She hates him for the pain he demands.
With her entire existence, Lucy hates Natsu Dragneel. He is the worst thing that ever happened to her. She doesn't even remember what it's like to not hate him — what it's like to live a life where he isn't at the forefront of her mind, concocting scheme after scheme to hurt her and hold her. He is ingrained into her.
He is a part of her like the scars he leaves.
.
.
.
.
.
The phone rings for almost two minutes before he picks up. She's used to it.
"I can't believe you're calling me on the first night of my honeymoon," he whispers in hushed laughter.
"…"
"Well? What do you want?"
"…"
"I'm waiting here."
"…I —…"
"It's 2am, Lucy."
"You still picked up."
"I happened to be awake."
"Why?"
"Didn't I already say it's my honeymoon?"
Her throat closes up. God, she fucking hates him. "I— I have to tell you."
"…"
"I'm… I'm…" Is she really going to do this? "I'm—…"
"Are you done?"
She almost drops the phone. "Nn!?"
Natsu's voice is too casual. "Did I take it too far? I've been wondering for a while. Most girls would have left ages ago, but you… well, you stayed. You've passed test after test. But I didn't expect you to put up with this one."
"…"
"Lisanna says the doctors give her about six months. If it's good news."
"That's awful."
"…"
"…"
"She wanted me to fulfil a promise we made when we were ten. That's the truth."
"…You're too kind, Natsu."
"…"
"…"
"Say something."
"I don't know what to say."
"You're the one who called."
"…"
"Please, say something."
"…"
"Lucy, I need you to say something."
"You need me to."
"I do."
"You have a fucked up way of showing it."
"…"
"I think you're right, you know. I think… It's too much. I d-do… I do love you. And I know you know that's why I've… s-stuck around. Because you— we, I don't know, we… whatever this…"
"Lucy—"
"You did take it too far, Natsu. I can't—…-hic- I can't deal with -hic- this anymore…"
"Lucy—"
"You made me -hic- come to your wedding—"
"I know, Lucy, I know."
"You made me write a speech. I caught the fucking bouquet, Natsu. At your wedding! -hic- You made me stand alone through -hic- the father-daughter w-waltz. Y-You made love to me i-in an -hic- alleyway!"
"…"
" A-Aren't you going to say something?"
"…Don't cry, Lucy."
"You're the one who made me cry!"
"…H-Hah…"
"I'm… I'm really done now, Natsu. I'm s-sorry— I'm so, so sorry, but I can't… I just can't… -hic- t-take this anymore. It's been… like, three y-years now or something. I really thought I could—… but I can't. I can't. I can't do it anymore, Natsu. I can't remember how to care about anything else anymore."
"…"
"…"
"I need you, Lucy."
"Then will you stop? Can we just... be n-normal?"
"...Please don't leave."
"Natsu, you're not—"
"I love you."
"…"
"I love you."
"..."
She hangs up.
That's the problem, Natsu.
.
.
.
.
.
She wakes up and remembers. His arm is around her waist; he is tangled in the sheets of her bed, his clothes strewn across her room.
"Of course I'm not leaving you, idiot," she whispiers, pressing a kiss to his messy hair. "I wouldn't know how."
He hides his smile in her pillow.
And they go on, and on, and on.
:

FIN

https://www.fanfiction.net/s/10559455/1/residue

 

the death of me

"Lord knows he has his issues.
He's cruel, and he makes a hobby of making the people who love him cry. Punishment is his favourite word. He loves to make me bleed, and bleed, and bleed.
He will tell them I'm his wh.ore.
oh, I'll pretend to be surprised,
(and kiss him so hard it hurts until our night belongs to me and me alone)
and tell him he's the worst thing that ever happened to me.

My mother told me I was insane; why did I fall in love with such a twisted man?
oh, I'll tell her i had no control over it,
(but i do cherish the scars he gives me, i do, i do)
and promise him that this will be the last time.

Wicked, wicked, wicked, wicked -- they all say it, over and over, and i know it's true
(but he is human and he cries, and when he does i swear i see stars)

I know that in three years time, we'll go to our best friends' weddings and they will sit us apart. He'll find his way to me, or I to him, and he'll ask her to dance in front of me, and smirk at me as he kisses her--
and I'll accidentaly (oh, accidentally) fall into the lap of some rich someone-or-other, and laugh at all the wrong jokes, and tuck my head in with my eyes wide open and on him the whole time--
and another night will belong to us,
and i'll find bruises in the morning
(the scar of my teeth on his shoulder will look too pale in the moonlight)

and we'll whisper careless words like love and hate and for-never,
and he'll hold me, tight, right and warm, telling lies like we're going to be okay, darling.

I only want to hurt if he's doing to hurting. I like his eyes. He likes the way I ruffle his ridiculous bedhead in the morning, and kiss his cheek.
We kiss like rivals. We fight like lovers.
He'll probably be the death of me... but that's okay, darling."




(akashi seijuro & yuki)
 

old: The Intricacies of Love

"For all its imperfections, there must be something about it. There must be something about love... Something about it that makes the weak brave enough to fight, that makes the lost brave enough to look, that makes the broken brave enough to try again. What is it about love? What is it that can make a man lose all his sense? I don't--...Tell me, what is it?"
"... I don't know. But if you want... I could try to show you?"
"What? Don't be ridiculous. How could you possibly show me? ...Wait, you don't mean to tell me-- my dear girl, are you in love with someone!?"
"...Yes."
"I-- Well-- That is, what--... What sort of fellow is he?"
"Sort? He's the worst sort.""Th-- Then how could you possibly love him? Surely he isn't deserving of you if he's not worthy!"
"Oh, don't misunderstand me. He's very respectable; he cares for me deeply, almost as one would a sister. He's kind and sweet and too curious for his own good. He rushes into things without a second thought, he's always calling me 'annoying', and my God, does he infuriate me! But... for all his imperfections, I can't help myself. I can't help but love him."
"...He's a lucky fellow."
"Do you think so?"
"Y-- Yes, I do. You should... You should tell him. That you love him, you should inform him at once-- Why are you laughing!?"
"No, I'd rather not tell him yet. I don't think he's quite ready."
"...How so?"
"Well, you see, I've pretty much confessed right in front of him but he has yet to comprehend that my feelings for him run deeper than friendship. He's rather confused about love."
"...Blasted idiot, he is."
"Yes, quite so. He's absolutely clueless."
"...Who is he though? You've yet to tell me."
"Hmm... Perhaps you ought to figure it out for yourself."
"How!? I have no idea-- Stop laughing at me, will you? And don't shake your head like I'm some idiot!"
"But you are! You're an utterly and absolutely clueless idiot."
"...Like the man you love?"
"Exactly so."
"...Please tell me who he is-- Stop laughing!"
"I'm sure you'll work it out eventually.""You're so annoying."
"Why, thank you."
"And infuriating."
"As are you, my dear friend. As are you."


http://www.wittyprofiles.com/q/6754144

Rain Doll .4

him

"The rain began again. It fell heavily, easily, with no meaning or intention but the fulfilment of its own nature, which was to fall and fall." — Helen Garner

.

.

Two hours after Mirajane gives Juvia a glass of lemonade and told her about the rain doll, he arrives.
Apparently he and the Salamander had found Gajeel-kun wondering around Magnolia, adamantly avoiding the guildhall for some mysterious reason. (Juvia ducks her head to hide a smile — had he always been this… dorky?)
Then he notices her smiling vaguely in their direction, and says hello to her. The rain woman's breath catches in her throat when he gives her a wide, unreserved grin, unaware that he was simply returning her own.
"So how've you been?" he asks her, swinging into the stool right beside hers. "Never thought you'd join Fairy Tail, but it's not the first time I've been wrong."
Mirajane sets a cup in front of him without a word and Juvia is struck for what feels like the million time by how familiar all the guild members are with one another. In her own guild — no, no no no, in her old guild (she likes how that sounds) she very rarely spoke to anyone excepting the other members of Element 4 and the master. But in Fairy Tail… if anything, they're all too familiar of one another. There's no distance to act as a disguise. No clouds or rain to hide behind. No protection. (Perhaps no more loneliness, too.)
He lowers the cup of ice chips (…why is he drinking ice chips?) and as if he'd read her mind, he continues, ""I've seen you around."
It takes Juvia a second to process more than the fact that he had seen her around (he saw her he saw her he saw her he saw her!) but then she manages a shaky breath before nodding. He hasn't spoken to her since… well, since they fought and he won, and she saw the sky, and somehow she won too. "Juvia... is happier here."
She keeps her gaze focused on the wood in front of her as he hums in understanding. She's sure he'll get up and leave, if not now then eventually, and she doesn't have anything more to say so she doesn't. Instead, they settle into a comfortable silence that feels better than any victory ever could.
Juvia can barely imagine getting used to a life like this, sitting across from a mage as kind as Gray Fullbuster (or just sitting beside Gray-sama in general, but). But she'd like to. Lord, how she'd like to. So the rain woman quietly and happily sips her lemonade, and lets herself enjoy the moment.
Three hours later, he still hasn't gotten up and left.


(fairy tail - juvia loxar)
http://www.fanfiction.net/s/9793833/4/Rain-Doll

The Birth of Plot-Thread Graphs!

I'm not a novel-writer. I have written (or at least, tried to write) novels before. I've written long pieces with many chapters. But I am, in no way, a novelist.

But that's why I take part in NaNoWriMo in the first place — to become a novelist. To learn how to actually knuckle down, and write one of those mysterious long stories. And as a beginner, I'm really just feeling my way around with this one, trying to get a feel for what it is I'm doing and how it is I'm going to go about doing it. (Writing 50,000 words in 30 days, that is. Still figuring that one out, but I'll get back to you.)

And in the end, I did come up with one trick (or at least, this technique I'm about to talk about) that works for me, and that is plot-thread graphs.

Yes, you read right. Plot-thread graphs. Take a glance below, and I'll explain after you've looked for yourself. (And I'll apologise now for my abominable writing...)

A plot-thread graph depicting the MagiGames arc, which I consider to be the 'main' storyline in Carnegium.

Another separate but hopelessly intertwined (sub)plot is this one, the one I dub 'heartfilia/royal family conspiracy'.

This one depicts the reader/Fairy Tail relationship as the story goes on. Where it strengthens, when the reader becomes more invested, and when tensions are high.

Okay, now that you've actually seen what I'm talking about, i can explain to you what it is I'm talking about!

Plot-thread graphs are a way for you to see, on paper, how your novel is going to develop. You get all your different subplots and developments together (more about that later), and graph them all out (again, I'll elaborate soon) so that you can compare them, and see that your story does in fact come to a climatic solution where all the problems will either be tied up or left to quietly fester into the forseeable future, and give a little cooldown before finishing off.

There's a reason I've scanned them like I have. Take a closer look at the first two images (in the black and blue ink) — you can see another graph through the paper, and that's what I mean about being able to compare them. You can make sure the build-up is regular everywhere, while showing you at the same time what to write about when so you don't forget to include anything in. No-one wants to be scrambling back four chapters to add in a scene just to make what they're supposed to be writing now make sense.

Anyway, here's what I did. Get yourself blank sheets of paper (I got my hands on a blank jotter, just because it was convenient for me), and the pens I used were simple fineliners from WHSmith. Then I made a list of everything I want to graph. My list (so far) is:

• battles and the MagiGames plot (the main plot)
• the Heartfilia/royal family plot (intertwined with the main plot)
• the reader's relationship with Fairy Tail through the main character, a subplot of sorts
• the development of main character's power and character
• the romance between the main character (Lucy) and Natsu, the biggest subplot
• all the deaths, both to track and to show where tensions get high and how the theme of loss develops
• the Strauss siblings subplot, concerning secondary characters and their goals and obstacles
• the 'Natsu and Igneel' subplot, about his goals and how they develop and are met
• the Erza/Jellal subplot, concerning them and their past as well as other characters
• the Gray/Juvia subplot, deeply intertwined with the development of Fairy Tail
• the Gajeel/Levy subplot, helpful to the reader's understanding of the MagiGames themselves
• the Mirajane/Laxus subplot, important to Fairy Tail development

 See why I turned to graphs in the first place? My idea is a complicated one, and I like it that way because it makes for more enjoyable writing and (if done well) engaged reading, but I'd almost definitely get tangled in all of these plot-threads along the way. I've colour-coded them to emphasise that they all go in different graphs (which I also colour code, just 'cause I can).

Now let's talk about how you actually go about graphing all of this. Before we even think about putting pen to paper, let's get a few things straight: if you (like me) are doing this before writing a novel, the following rules are important.

1. This doesn't have to be perfect. Like, at aaaaall. I only knew what was going to happen up to a certain point, so I graphed all I could, and made up a vague ending on the spot to follow straight after. I'll almost definitely add more development between now and when I actually get to it in my writing, but for now, that sort of vague oh-it'll-all-work-out-somehow attitude is totally fine.
2. This doesn't have to be accurate. Try get the timelines roughly the same, but don't spend more than, like... three or four minutes on each graph. If that.
3. You should know that what you've drawn  is probably wrong. You'll get inspiration as you write, as you sleep, as you pour your morning cereal (or midnight cereal. I won't judge) and you'll want to constantly tweak things. Do so. If not on your graphs, then directly into your work. The graphs never have to know. *wink*
4. The most important thing is probably the timeline, so pay attention to it. At least, to me. I need to say how all the subplots work in contrast to each other. Which means plotting an event that is major to both plotlines on both graphs is a huge help (see 'Gray's death' on the first and third graphs).
5. Make stuff up. Seriously. If you don't know what's going to happen, don't leave a blank — fill it with drivel. You can work with drivel, either to polish up or delete and redo, but you can't work with a blank. Each little 'X' should either lead directly to another little 'X', or dip slightly in a calm moment (e.g. see 'training with FT' on the first graph) when nothing major happens except important development, and then lead directly to the patiently waiting next 'X'.

Okay. Now put pen to paper, and get your graphs drawn.

After you've got yourself a bunch of lovely plot-thread graphs just waiting to be scrunched up, sobbed over, burned, or all three, compare them. When there's a dip in one, is there a rise in tension in the other? Are there any moments that are dull all the time with every subplot? Does the build-up happen gradually/constantly (that is, at the same time) for all of them, or does one reach it's climax way before another and that plot-thread is left waiting for the others to catch up? Does everything crash together in the end? (Which, as chaotic as it sounds, is probably what you want.)

Comparing the graphs is key to using them to their full potential. Scribble ideas onto them, alter them, re-do them if you want to, but now you've got yourself a working set of plot-thread graphs, which is pretty much the map to your perfect novel, and the beginning of your career as a successful novelist.

I'll probably be using these with every multi-chapter story I write, now... Anyway, try it out for yourself and see what works for you! Obviously, everyone is different, and it might take some time to find what really gets you pumped up for writing the stories swimming around your head, but trust me, the trick is out there somewhere. It's up to you to find it (or, like in my case, make it up and hope it works out this time).


(I'll apologise now to anyone who's more than confused about the actual plotline of my story, Carnegium. It probably doesn't make much sense at all...) 
 

Countdown to Camp Nano'14

Nine hours until July for me. And that means nine hours of planning/waiting/enjoying freedom until nano starts. In the meantime, I found some cool resources through the NaNoWriMo websites that I've enjoyed reading.

Rainbow Rowell's advice (if I'm allowed to call it that?) was really helpful for me. The pep talk was totally relatable while managing to sound both encouraging and sincere. I know her nano 'story' even though I haven't actually read Fangirl (the novel she wrote during the month she participated) or any of her other books yet, and I think it what she had to say is definitely worth a read.

I also thought this character checklist was a really cute idea. I've never used anything like it, and I'm not sure I will for July either, for three simple reasons:

1. It's very extensive. Like, really really long. And I'm not sure I have time for that right now, and I don't want to waste important hours when I have inspiration filling out lists when I could be moving the plot forward and getting that wordcount up unless I have to...
2. ...and the thing is, I don't think I do have to. I haven't had a problem with characterisation before (although granted, I haven't worked on a properly long piece before and succeeded).
3. Carnegium is a piece of fandom writing (i.e. fanfiction) and I think the character list is better applied to original characters for original writing. Not that my own interpretation of the characters from the cannon couldn't be used for the list, but I think it might even be a bit counter-productive in this situation.

I also found this adorkable 'workbooks' on the Young Writer's Program nano website. I browsed through the high school one, and although it is clearly aimed at classes or writing groups (with little assignments and stuff), some of the advice was interesting to read, and very relevant to me as well. Again, worth a look if you have nothing better to do. (...I didn't make that sound too appealing. Whoops.)

I'm also using the Cabin feature on the Camp Nano website this time. I was in a cabin last year as well, but it it was very inactive and I think I ended up leaving it anyway. This year, I have one of my close friends, Kami, doing nano with me. I'm really excited about having a friend to rant with and cry with and go crazy with this year! Last year, another good friend of mine, Evie, was doing nano with me, and although we didn't correspond as much as I thought we would have, it made the whole experience even better. I look forward to seeing how writing with Kami will turn out!

My biggest worry (other than, you know... trying to write a 50,000 word novel in the span of thirty days) is how that's going to work out with my fasting. Ramadan falls smackbang on top of July, and the fasts are so long this year (20 hours in Scotland -- why do I have to live so far north? *sob sob*). I don't know if that will affect my writing, but I'm sure it will, and I have no idea how. Here's to hoping I'll end up turning to writing as a distraction or something...

Knowing me and my habits, I'll end up doing most (if not all) of my writing in the middle of the night. I don't have access to a laptop (woe is me, woe is me) but the household disonaur desktop is a bit out of the way, so I'm sure the 'workspace' will be fine.

Also, the more I think about it, the more I'm attracted to my idea of tweaking nano to fit my habits. I'm a very sporadic writer, and although I won't have the luxury of going on week-long lazybreaks, I think I could still factor in some flexibility. Yes, you've probably guessed it... I'm talking about drabbles. Man, I love drabbles. I could go on a long-winded spiel about why drabbles are the best (both for readers and writers) but I'll spare you (for now). Anyway, I don't want to stop myself from writing drabbles during July, especially when the creative juices are flowing, so maybe I'll factor any drabbles I write into the wordcount as long as they're for Fairy Tail. I'm not sure yet though. Just an idea.

Ramadan in summer means you're going to be spending most of your time in the house. And while that does cross out any plans for beaches and shopping sprees and slushees at the skatepark (I never go the skatepark, I don't know why I wrote that...), it does give you a lot of time at home to do stuff. And yes, while I'd love to (and do plan to) dedicate good time to memorising new d'uas and prayers, and reading the Holy Qur'an, I won't spend the whole day (or even nearly the whole day) doing that. Finding time won't be an issue this July. Finding convenient times is a whole other story, but that's the same for everyone, probably.

I won't be posting up any of carnegium on this blog during July because I have plans to go back and edit it through, draft it properly (or.. you know, as much as I can be bothered) and then uploading it. But I might spend some cool-down time fixing drabbles to upload, if I do write any, so... We'll see!

CampNano — July 2014

Camp NaNoWriMo starts again this July, and I plan on participating again.

I took part last year, and I wrote most of Fairies, Misfits and Little Brats during that time. I stayed traditional, keeping a wordcount of 50,000 words. And I was a winner, having written about 54,000 words by the end of it. However, despite that success, I do think of it with a bit of trepadition and resentment, because at that time the memory on the computer I was using wiped. It just blanked, and I lost about 20,000 words. I haven't really recovered since that, but I have changed the plans around and I do want to write more for the fic when I manage to find the motivation, inspiration and time to do so.

This year, it's not really very surprising to hear that I will be, once again, writing a fairy tail fanfic. It just seems I've lost the ability — or rather, the will — to write anything considerably long that isn't related to fairy tail in some way, or isn't at least fanfiction. At this moment in time, I just get more enjoyment out of it. And there's no reason for me to stop doing that, after all. I'm not super-duper scarily serious about writing (like some peope...) and I don't mind not improving every time I write, as long as I actually enjoy the time I spend doing so. It's a hobby for me, and yeah, while it would be nice to be a paid author in the future, right now...? There is no reason for me to take writing so seriously. So yeah, I'm going to stick with writing fanfiction.

Initially, I was planning to just continue writing more of Fairies, Misfits and Little Brats, but as July comes closer, I'm realising that I actually would really rather not. It's passed the stage of first draft splurdge that NaNoWriMo demands, and I don't think I'd be able to stick with it, either. It takes more planning, more time, more care, and definitely more delicacy as far as I'm concerned in writing a fic I care so much about. So while FMLB is my baby and I love it with all my heart, I shall be happily neglecting it come July to take on a new project.

And I have so many ideas for different multichap fics that I could pick up and write during CampNano, but there's one there's only one that I couldn't not do. And that is my new side project, Carnegium. It's a story with a lot of dark themes, definitely much darker and more morbid than anything I've tried before. It's a total experiment for me, but unlike all my other ideas, which I do love but am happy to leave on the side-bench for now, carnegium really demands to be written. And it's very much in the early stages; I don't really know the plot, or all the characters, or what's really even going to happen — I just have little ideas of scenes, and a big overview of the world, and a general road for where and how the story is going to travel. I'm so excited about it, and I really love it, and unlike so many of my other stories, I'm not scared of screwing up with this one. Which I think it absolutely crucial for succeeding in meeting a wordcount for Nano.

So we'll see how that goes during the month of July. I'm equal parts excited and worried, I think, but I'm sure it's going to be good.

I'm not entirely sure how it's actually going to happen though, if I'm honest. I'll be fasting during most of July, so I'll be writing on an empty stomach, which you would think woudl be a bad idea... except I'll probably want something to distract myself, and that sort of bad mood is theoretically perfect for the type of story that carnegium* is shaping itself out to be. It's a dark, angry, gritty sort of story, and well... I don't know, we'll see how it works out. As for timing and inspiration... Well, inspiration is a non-subject. Whether I've got it or not, I'm going to have to write. And timing wise; I'll be on my summer vacation, so finding the time really won't be hard. It's all about motivation for Nano, and I'm definitely ready for the challenge. Or... Okay, I wouldn't say ready, but who cares, I'm going for it anyway. That sort of ready.

Bring it on.

*I can't decide whether I want to capitalise the first letter of carnegium/Carnegium or not. /sigh

dolensia

title: dolensia
summary: 'cause you love true and you love easy, and I... I can only love hard. —macao/cana/bacchus. for Laura.

dolensia

.
.

it's never been an easy thing for me to see how it goes, to play by ear, to let it be
—and it's never been an easy thing to do, 'cause if i'm honest,
there's no one alive who's earned my loving more than you.

.
"I just..." He raised a steady hand to cover his face, sighing deeply into his palm before pressing his fingers so hard to his brow they turned white. "I need space. We need space. 'Cause this, whatever the hell it is, isn't— it isn't working."
Cana curled her fingers into a tight fist by her side. Her throat felt too dry for speech, so her lips thinned into a terse line and she said nothing.
He continued, "I know I said I'd give it a try, Cana, but I can't. I'm sorry, but it's just not..."
He exhaled shakily. She met his gaze unflinchingly when he looked down at her, remaining silent.
"It's not... Sorry, Cana. This needs to stop."
She felt her lower lip begin to tremble, but quickly took a deep breath to disguise it. Relaxing her hands to rest on her hips suggestively, she let a slow, lazy smile curl her lips. "I don't think you mean that."
But of course he did. She knew he did. But she needed to show him it didn't affect her, so she leaned forward a little to give him a view of her cleavage, reminding him that she wasn't just a little girl anymore.
"I do," Macao said, his gaze not faltering from hers.
Damn it.
She let her smile widen into a lascivious smirk. "Are you quite sure? I was under the impression," she purred, closing the distance between them, "that you were having fun, Macao. It doesn't have to stop."
When she pressed her body against his, he sighed quietly before taking a step back. His warm hands gently gripped her shoulders, keeping her at arm's length. "It's not about fun, Cana."
"Oh? Because I'm not gonna lie, I was having lots of fun learning everything you had to teach me—"
"Enough," he said, a light smile hiding behind his lips. "Don't talk about that."
"Why not? Is it because you don't really want to stop, and you're just doing this to seem coy? I didn't peg you for that kind of guy, Macao. But," she trailed a finger up his chest tauntingly, "it's not so bad once in a while."
He smiled that fucking smile he always adopted when she teased him, as if he was indulging her. "Nothing like that."
She bit her lip, frustrated. What was he playing at? "Then what? You've had enough of playing with me, is that it? "
"Cana—"
"We fucked on enough guild tables, and you've gotten it out of your system now? What, the old man had enough fun with the 'little girl', huh?"
"No, that's not—"
"Because I know you're a real pervert at heart, but I didn't think you would go so far as to start using your guildmates. Is that really what I am to you? An anywhere-anytime fuck buddy?"
"Of course not!"
"Well, that's what it looks like!" She burst out, biting her lip and hating the fact that she was acting like a little kid. But she couldn't fucking help it. It took her years to get here, so why the hell was he acting like—... like he expected this to happen? "I-I told you I was..."
She was serious, damn it.
His eyes held nothing but kindness and understanding, and she hated it. "I know you wanted it to work out, but did you really think it would last between us? Neither of us are really the stuff of relationships, you know? And you're only eighteen, Cana. You can't let me hold you back forever, can you?"
Her silence spoke for her, but Cana doubted he could hear what it was screaming. He took one of her hands into his, rubbing slow circles into her wrist. "Of course I care for you; I've watched over you since you were six, for crying out loud. How could I not love you?"
But not like I love you. You didn't even give me a chance to prove it to you, you asshole.
And the way he was looking at her... Not like she was a woman at all. Just like she was a little girl, someone he had to look out for, someone he had to protect. "And being with you was nice, it really was... But we're not meant to be that way, you know? I can feel it. You know it, too. We're best at being friends. And you must know that you really are a very, very important friend to me. Always will be."
His smile was gentle.
Gentle.
As if she needed any of that
She took back her hand, waving it in the space between them dismissively. "Well, okay. If you insist." The grin was back in place, taking over her expression. "I'll miss the nights, but I'll take what I can get, I guess. But it is a shame; our bodies were really compatible, don't you think?"
When Macao just rolled his eyes, Cana laughed loudly, turning and flipping her hair carelessly. "I'll see you at the guild then. It definitely was fun. A good way to pass the nights where the guild was out of beer, right?"
"Jeez, you could at least pretend to care a bit more. I am sorry, you know."
But Macao was laughing now, and it just spurred her on. "And some of the things you showed me— woah! Did not expect that from an old guy like you, seriously." She looked back to see him rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, shaking his head at the ground, and smirked. "Really. Don't let this make things awkward. We just had to get rid of the undeniable sexual tension, right?"
He scoffed. "You're heartless, you know that?"
She winked at him before turning around to walk away. "Thank you," she grinned slyly, blowing him a kiss.
Thanks for nothing, you miserable bastard.
She didn't go back to Fairy Hills like she wanted to. No, she stuck it out at the guild the whole evening, drinking and laughing and pretending.
After all, she wasn't a little fucking girl, was she?
.

i was praying that you and me might end up together 

— but it's like wishing for rain as i stand in the desert.

.
.
.
.
.
Bacchus doesn't think Cana is a little girl.
She hates him, of course. He's a perverted asshole who can out-drink her, and he left her passed out and topless on the floor the night he met her, and he suggested a threesome involving Mirajane and her younger sister on national television— but that's all just character, isn't it? And she can hardly blame him for that. He was just being funny, after all.
And so what if he's an arrogant prick all the time? If he's powerful enough to give Elfman — Elfman, who trained harder than she'd seen anyone train for three long months — a serious run for his money, surely he has the right to be?
And admittedly, his heavy-lidded appraisal of her when he strolled into their inn left her thinking that he was kind of sexy... in a weird, drunk-all-the-time, disgustingly-lascivious, careless-idiot, heartless-bastard kind of way.
When he glances at her over the top of a shot glass, his eyes aren't kind or understanding in the slightest. And there isn't one gentle thing about him as he challenges her with nothing but a wicked grin to knock back another round.
When she comes to, she sees evidence of the havoc he wreaked on the inn's floor, so she teases Wakaba and Macao that they were taken out by a semi-conscious alcoholic. And she's pleased to note that Macao... Well, he hates Bacchus. That may have something to do with wounded pride, but a girl can dream, so she makes a point to seek the drunkard out.
When his eye catches hers across the crowded room of his own guild's inn, he doesn't hesitate to throw her a suggestive smirk. She bites her lips before crossing her arms challengingly and gesturing to him with her chin to join her, and his gaze doesn't leave her body as he lopes across the room to drag her outside.
When he's got her pressed against the back door of a pub in Crocus, and his hot breath is wafting across her cheek, she concedes that Gildarts would probably hate him, too.
When his teeth graze across her pulse point, she hisses his name and curls her fingers against his chest, her nails grazing his skin gently. "H-How old are you?" she finds herself asking as he pulls on her sleeves to grant him access to her shoulder.
When he snorts with laughter against one of the kiss marks he's left on her and asks if she's a little girl or something, she's intensely surprised to find she's at a loss for words.
When he catches the expression in her widened eyes, his gaze softens fractionally, and an unreadable emotion flashes across his face before it's replaced with another devilish grin.
And when she stutters — yes, she fucking stutters — out an all-too-unconvincing "N-No," he just leans closer to her until their foreheads are touching. His fingers play patterns across her bare waist with the touch of a ghost.
And he whispers against her lips, with a challenge in his hooded eyes, to prove it.
.
.

FIN

http://www.fanfiction.net/s/10426623/1/dolensia

old: Wish Upon A Kiss

"Happy New Years!"
The sound of glass rims clinking together filled the room, before everyone burst into joyful laughter. I grinned over the top of my coke, taking in the merry atmosphere and loving the feeling of freedom that overcame me.
"Hey, Sammie!"
My eyes snap to Dan; he's making his way through the crowd of family and friends towards me.
He's got a huge grin on his face, which I can't help but return.
"Dan," I laugh. "I thought Dad said not to drink any of the wine."
He throws his head back and laughs, his curly brown hair tipping back to his neck.

"What he doesn't know won't hurt him," he smiles. "We can't all be perfect, can we?"
He then winks at me; rolling my eyes, I give him a playful punch on the shoulder.
"Obeying the law doesn't mean perfection, you felon," I tease him playfully.
He snorts. "Whatever, sis. Where's Heather?"
He throws a quick glance round our well lit living room, before returning his gaze to me. I shrugged, and gave a quick glance round the room.
"Maybe she went into the kitchen. I think I heard saying something abuot grabbing more paper cups." I chuckle. "She's such a house-wife."
It's his turn to roll his eyes, before turning to head towards the kitchen, already going after his girlfriend.
I smile at his retreating figure fondly.

Dan's only one year my elder, but he's always played the role of big bad brother so convincingly I sometimes forget he's only 15.
I take a seat near the wall, not really wanting to be in the middle of the room, where everyone's making jolly banter with each other, repeatedly checking their watches.
Counting the minutes down to midnight.
Sipping at my coke, I realise I've got the perfect view of the window from here. I grin; maybe I'll see the fireworks in the city centre!

"Sammie, darling, come here for a second, will you?" I hear Mum's voice call.
Quickly downing the rest of the coke, I try to weave through the crowd.
"Happy New Year, Sam," Aunt Sarah smiles at me as I pass her petite figure, before returning to her cheerful chat with Uncle Phil, her and mum's younger brother.
"You too," I reply with a smile, looking around for Mum. "Aunt Sarah, you haven't seen Mum, have you?"
"I think I saw her walk into the kitchen," Uncle Phil cuts in good-humouredly. "Probably stalking your brother and that poor girlfriend of his."
I burst into laughter, nodding. "Probably," I grin. "Thanks."
Giving Aunt Sarah a quick hug, I quickly go through the door beside me to the kitchen.

"Hey, Mum, were you calling me? I thought I hea- ?"
"Shh, Sammie, dear. Your brother's talking to Heather."
I roll my eyes, grabbing a stool and sitting down beside her at the ktichen table.
Mum's light brown hair, cut into a semi-stylish bob, is physically quivering with her excitement as she rests her chin on her hands, with her elbows on the cool granite table.
She's literally STARING at Dan, the poor guy.
I hide a smile, also bearing witness to his confession to Heather.
She's a beautiful girl. With her tan skin from that winter holiday in Greece a week ago, her sleek ebony hair tumbling down in soft waves to her lower back, her petite frame and deep blue eyes, the girl's got a lot going for her.

I then look over to Dan beside her. He's got his hands stuffed into the pockets of his light jeans, the sleeves of his button down shirt rolled up, with a loose Tee underneath.
He's stubbornly examining the floor like the answer to every question he has is etched into the tiles. I stifle a laugh when I realise he's blushing as Heather cluelessly rests her hand on his forearm.
"Mum," I hiss, "why are we staring at Dan? I mean, not that it isn't utterly invigorating." I snort.
"Because, he's with his first girlfriend, and it's adorable! Ah, where's my camera?"
I choke, before covering my mouth to hide my giggles.
"Here, borrow my phone," I grin, handing her the iPhone happily.
"Thanks, dear," she smiles, clicking on the camera app.

The loud click of the imaginary shutter going off alerts Dan of our presence. His eyes glance at us as he turns around, then turn to Heather, before looking back at us in a double take.
"Mum!" he cries. "Wha-? No, come on, that's not cool. BIoody heII, I can't have a moment alone, for God's sake!"
I can't hold it in anymore; I laugh so loud I'm sure the people in the living room can hear me loud and clear.
"Aw, sweetie," Mum cooes, jumping up from her chair to give Dan I great big hug.
"Awwww," I stick my tongue out at him.
I hear peals of laughter from Heather standing beside me.
"Cute!" she giggles at Dan, who's struggling like crazy from Mum's kiIIer grasp on him.
"Urgh, MUM!" He groans. "Gerr'off, Jesus Christ!"

"Your family's absolutely adorable," Heather smiles at me sweetly. I chuckle back.
"Aw, thanks, Heather. You should come round again, I'd be happy to show you pictures of Dan as a baby. Now THOSE are adorable," I tell her, raising my eyebrows wickedly.
"SAMMIE!" I hear Dan moan. "BIoody heII, you all are CRAZY!" He accentuated the last word by finally breaking free of Mum's chokehold embrace.
"My babies growing up," she sighs happily.
"Ah, they grow up so fast, don't they?" Heather giggles, playing along, to Dan's mortification.
"I wish, girl. Dan's still a total baby. He still can't sleep without the hall light on, poor guy," I wink at her, chuckling.
Behind me, I hear laughing, and I turn around to see Dad, Aunt Sarah and my two little cousins, Amy and Nigel.

"Really, Dan?" Amy, a ten year old devil, giggles. "Jeez, even I don't do THAT."
Dan's resisting the urge to bang his head on the cupboard beside him, I can tell. His face is bright read, brown eyes wide open in humiliated indignation.
"Aw, Dan!" Heather squeals. "Do you really?"
She's got her eyebrows raised, as if she's impressed. I'm liking her more by the minute.
"Heather, don't listen to them, they're all cra-"
"Crazy?" I interject. "N'aaww, we just love you, that's all, Danny-poo." I wipe a pretend tear away.
"I think he's had enough," Mum chuckles, and Dad's nodding along, grinning at his son.

"You think!?" he cries, his arms making motions around his head. "You're all- I mean, seriou- Just..- Ahh! I mean, Jesus. I'm going out to see the fireworks. Anything to get away from you guys!"
He makes for the kitchen door, pushing Heather in front of him. "Let's go, Heather."
She giggles. "It was lovely meeting you all! Especially you, Sam," she smiles at me over Dan's shoulder. He's trying his best to push her through the doorway, into the hallway. "We should totally meet u-"
"No!" Dan shouts. "Heather, come on!"
She bursts into laughter, as do I. "Bye, Heather," I grin, waving slightly.
"Bye bye, Danny-poo!" I coo to him, blowing him a kiss.
"Crazy blighters, bIoody crazy..." I hear him mumbling before they're out the front door.

"Awww.." Mum says thoughtfully. "She's very sweet. Dan's made a good choice."
"Couldn't really expect anyone else, after he's been pining after her for half a frickin' year," I snort amusedly.
Dad reaches for the plastic cups, and backs out the room. "I was just grabbing some more of these. Hey, Liz," he continues to Mum. "Me and Phil were talking, I think we have some fireworks in the garage from Guy Fox Night, d'you want us to set them up in the garden?"
I smile, and say, "Yeah, that'd be awesome!"

“That's a brilliant idea, Jeff," Aunt Sarah grins, and Mum nods. "I'll help you get them out, come on."
I follow them out into the living room, where everyone's still standing around and chatting. I roll my eyes.
"Grown ups. Boring much?"
Just then, I feel a vibrating in the back pocket of my jeans. I dig around for my phone, and press answer without checking the number.
"Hello?"
"Sammie! Hey, good, you answered, finally! Why didn't you answer my previous calls?"
My face relaxes into a fond smile. "Hey, Jess. Sorry, Mum had my phone. We were making Dan's life heII."
"Wha-?" I hear her start, before trailing off. "You know what? I don't even want to know. Hey, what's all that noise?"

With a laugh, I say, "Sorry, I'm at home, and the whole family's here. They're just setting up fireworks in the backyard, do you wanna come over?"
Jessica never misses an opportunity to be out and about.
"Nah, I'll pass. I'm actually in the centre of all fireworks, babe."
I blanch, standing up and walking out of the loud living room into the quieter hall. "You're kidding me."
"Nope," she says, popping the 'p'.

"You're in the city centre!?" I cry, a grin growing on my face. "Seriously? You got space?"
"My cousins were camping ¬out here to get a good view of the show, I'm with them. You coming or not?"
"HeII, yeah!" I crow, pumping the air with my fist. "That's awesome! Here, I'll just quickly ask the 'rents, call you back in a few."
"Time's a tickin', babe," she trills, before hanging up.
I take a moment to lean against the wall behind me, close my eyes and just smile. I seriously love that girl; I mean, she found space in London's city centre on New Years night.
THIS was why Jessica Darcy is my best friend. Because the girl's a fricking miracle.
My eyes snap open, and I rush to the garage.

I head out the back door of our kitchen into the garden, and walk along the stone pathway to the sid entrance for the garage. All along the back of our house are couples sucking face.
"Eurgh," I moan quietly. I mean, get a room in your own house, or something. I know I'm not leaning against there for a lil' while from now.
Tuning out the, uh, sound effects the lovebirds are making, I glance up while walking to see a cloudless night.
Now THAT'S unusual for London.
I grin happily; it's absolutely beautiful.

Like little fireflies stuck on that blue-ish black thing.
I chuckle to myself at the Lion King quote, before jogging the few steps to the garage door.
"Oh my God, it's roasting in here!" I groan, closing the door behind me. Dad turns around and smiles at me, while all I see of Mum is her jean-clad ass sticking up between countless card-board boxes.
"Hey, sweetie," she greets, still searching like crazy for the fireworks.
"You found them?" I ask Dad.

He shakes his head. "No, but they've got to be around here some place."
With that, he too turns and disturbs the resting place of the months of dust which litters our garage.
"Hey, Mum?" I say to her, trying to think of the perfect way to ask her about the city centre.
"Hmm?" she acknowledges, before coughing like crazy. "Jesus, it's dusty in here. Jeff, we really have to get this cleaned..."
He nods, and replies over his shoulder. "I think so, Liz. Did you keep the number of that cleaner you hired a few weeks ago?"

Rolling my eyes at them, I clear my throat loudly. "Mum!"
"Hmm," she nods, straightening up and brushing down her jeans, glancing around. "They've gotta be 'round here somewhe-."
"Right! Well, I'm off, call if you need anything, bye!" I let out quickly in one breath, backing for the door quickly.
Her eyes instantly snap to mine. Right, so THAT'S what it takes to get her attention.
"Where?"
"Just out, Mum. You know, the fireworks and all that," I sigh impatiently, checking my watch.
"Honey, we have fireworks here," she said, frowning. "No need to go out and waste time."
"Mum."
"What?" she said innocently, "it's true!"

"Jessica got some space in central London."
"So it'll be crowded and loud, I don't see that as an upside."
"And I REALLY wanna go," I reasoned.
She rolled her eyes, annoyed.
"Mum, I can't see why you're making such a big deal out of it," I moaned. "Please? It'll be fun, I won't be out late, I have my phone, you know everyone I'll be with. Please."
I could see her reasoning with Dad with her eyes, who had turned round to listen to the conversation.
"Well..." she wavered.
"I'll even take the camera, get some good photos for Gran," I added on. Mum never misses an opportunity to criticise our relationship with her mother.
"Alright, fine, fine!" she finally let on.
I let out a woop. Yes! Grinning, I sped for the door.
"Be home by nine!"
"Yeah, yeah," I called back over my shoulder.
2012, here I come.

You know, a girl never appreciates the art of multi-tasking until she's tried grabbing her purse, her mobile phone and a packet of gum falling from her back jeans pocket while running in the dark at night.
In unlaced converse hi-tops.
"Sht," I cursed under my breath, my feet tumbling over each other as I leapt for the gum.
Of all the things to dive for, I thought, irritated.
The street-lights cast a yellow shadow across the pavement, but I was still having trouble finding my purse and phone, having successfully found the oh-so-important gum.

t took about two seconds for me to trip over again; at least it was over my purse.
"Sht," I drew out, freaking out. Where the hell is my phone!?
The ringing helped, though.
The light coming from the screen gave an eerie glow to my hands as I reached for it; I could FEEL the scratches being etched onto my poor iPhone as it vibrated like heII on the rocky road.
Yum.
I snorted slightly, laughing at my inner joker as I caught sight of Jessica's face lighting up the screen.

“Hey, J-”

“You! Where are you!? You’re gonna miss it!” Her voice, electronic and muffled, shouted at me from the speaker, panicked. “Get your ass over here, will you?”

I started walking again, holding the phone to my ear with my right hand while trying to stuff my purse back into my pocket as I did so. “I’m just” - I paused as I bent down to grab the fallen gum – “coming.”

“That’s what your Mum said.”

“...”

I heard her snort at her own joke. “Sorry.”

“Really? I mean, seriously?” I chuckled. “Girls can’t make Mum jokes, you do get that, right?”

“Fine. That’s what your Dad said. Happy now?”

I rolled my eyes. Who cares if she couldn’t see me do it?

“I’m just gonna drop this subject before you make it any awkwarder.”

“Because awkwarder’s a word,” she scoffed.

I’d reached the busier city centre; there were a few people on the street now, and I could see from inside the windows that lit up from the warm lights inside that there were huge huddles of families, friends and whatever else. Even a few pubs seemed to be overflowing.

“Yes. Yes, it is,” I laughed into the receiver. “Hey, where abouts in the centre are you exactly?”

"Rather central."

"And here I was worried you were gonna be vague or something."
She giggled. "Near the parks. Come quick, yeah? It's almost eleven and I know you know that everyone knows not to-"
"Wait, what? Where? I'm confused."
"Just hurry, 'kay? Byeeeee!" her tin voice sqealed at me happily.
"What!?" I yelped. "No, don't you dare hang up on me. Where are you?"
"Sorry, it's just- I mean- There's a pretzel stand, and a hot guy's running it!" she whined needily; I could visualize the effortless pout that would no doubt be on her face right now.
"And a bunch of beepers are crowding him..."
"That's enough reason to leave me floundering?"
"I thought only turtles did that."
"Jess!"
She giggled again. "Sorry, sorry. Um, it's like, you know Ellie's?"
"Yeaaah..." I seethed quietly.
"Yeah, well, near the corner shop there, but you don't walk along the street. Instead, follow the walls, yeah? I mean, like, the pavement. The one leading off. 'Kay, well, love you, see you, hurry, 'kay, bye honey!"
"JESSI-"
The dial tone cut me off politely.

Count to ten, Sammie. Count to ten, and breathe.
I kept my eyes shut, resisting the urge to text some serious abuse at the btch I called my best friend.
Breathe.
I opened my eyes, cleared my throat and strode along the dark street confidently.
Semi-confidently.
I knew where I was, of course. Ellie's corner shop was just a few streets away, but really, what would I do when I reached there?
Follow some wall-y pavements, according to her.
Stupid Jess.
Unwrapping the headphones from my iPhone, I made up my mind to just go to Ellie's. At worst, I could just walk in and ask the cashier, right?