Gamma Belt
Mortal Realm
Moneta Residence
2009
Mortal Realm
Moneta Residence
2009
“Lysa!”
A blonde-haired lady turned, clutching something
tightly in her hands. A smile reached her lips as she saw the brunette-haired
man approaching, attempting to relax at the sight of him.
“There you are,” he scolded. The weapon in his
hands, a lava-red scythe, retracted into a simple bow. “What did I tell you
about running off? I’m supposed to be your Watcher. Someone who protects you. Not someone who would end
up losing you.” He meant it seriously – losing Lysa would cost him a lot – but the
lady gave him a mischievous little smirk.
“Nothing happened to me, Z.” his cheeks flamed at
the nickname and he huffed, turning away from her. “See? I’m unscathed from the
attack. If you can even call it an attack,” she mused.
What had happened to the twosome?
Well.
And it did provide a distraction.
That is, they decided to chase her rather than attack him.
So Zachariel ended up having to do a number of
things at once; ward off the monsters away from Lysa, make sure that no one saw
them, and make sure that the girl didn’t clumsily fall over her own two feet
(as she tended to do).
Luckily, they were safe – and Lysandra was patiently
waiting for him inside the comfort of her own home.
“You shouldn’t worry too much, Z,” she teased.
Zachariel gave her a look. “I mean it! Besides, I was able to get them off my
back a little bit, right? Right?”
The sky above them gave a rumble and it started to
rain. She gave him a cheeky grin.
“Come on inside, idiot. I don’t want my Watcher
getting too sick.”
*
* * * *
He didn’t know how he was able to tolerate Lysa.
Lysa was a living representation of her element – storm. Her notorious stubbornness was
one of them, second was her conflicting and constantly-moving moods. One moment,
she could be stormy and angry, the next she could be thoughtful and reflective
like a settling gale.
One thing was for sure, however – she could be, in
her own way, a tempest.
He had felt an odd connection with her, a stranger
desire to protect her than the norm. Of course, all Watchers had their natural
obligation to protect their Assignment, but Lysa gave off a different vibe. It seemed
that she wanted to be protected – yet couldn’t admit that own fact to herself.
Eventually discovering her own quirks and secrets,
she found that she was simply too afraid to fall in the first place. So he let
her ease into him. It took days, weeks, months, a few years until she was
finally able to reach a certain level of comfort with him.
But even though he was the one to protect her; that
she had maintained a certain level of trust, there were still some things that
she was unwilling to tell him.
And he respected that. Besides, there were some parts of him that he simply
refused to have her know.
“What’re you holding there, Lysa?”
“Hm?” Lysa unclenched her fist and stared at the
necklace, mouth forming into a small ‘o’ – judging by the look on her face, she
had just remembered what the certain object was doing in the palm of her hand. “Oh!
This – I – well – it’s been a few years since you were assigned to be my
Watcher, right?” Zachariel nodded.
It had been five years, in fact. They had met in the
winter of 2004. Zachariel still remembered until that very day. The mere
thought of him made him smile and nearly miss out on Lysa’s next words.
“This necklace was something I bought with my
savings a while back,” she explained. “It’s been with me since first grade.” She
passed it to Zachariel, who took it interestedly into his hands. It was an
inch-long stone made of red jasper, suspended by a strong-looking black rope. It
was already looped, the wearer only having to slide it on. Zachariel recognized
the stone.
“Red jasper?”
Lysa nodded. “For justice. It’s said to help the
wearer control their passions, too. And a number of other things I can’t
exactly remember,” she grinned sheepishly, “But it’s kept me on my two feet for
as long as I can remember. And now,” she snatched it from his fingers, “I’m
going to pass this onto you, Z.”
He stared as she adjusted the necklace, standing on
her toes to slide it onto him. Zachariel felt the cool texture of the red
jasper pendant lightly hit his chest, Lysa smiling widely as she stepped back
and observed him.
“It looks nice on you, Zachariel.”
“I…thank you,” he replied, feeling a little awkward.
“I don’t have anything to give you, though.”
“You don’t!” Lysa moved back and fell onto her bed,
sitting up quickly and meeting his ruby gaze. “I just thought of giving you
something special. Something that’s been a small part of me.” The playfulness
vanished and her smile turned soft, genuine. “Since…you really do mean a lot to
me, Zachariel. Even though I don’t show it much.”
He felt his throat dry up and was about to stutter a
reply when she coughed and turned her head away, hiding the pink that dusted
her cheeks. “Anyway! I have to complete my stupid thesis. You know what to do,”
she told him, and Zachariel snapped out of his thoughts as he managed a nod. “Don’t
hesitate to take anything if you’re hungry.”
“And your parents will question the missing food,”
he responded drily. She beamed.
“I’ll just say that the others wanted some good
snacks. It’ll be fine.”
“You really do love spoiling me rotten, don’t you?”
Picking up the pink laptop bag, Lysa merely smiled. She
heard the door close and knew that Zachariel had gone out, the smile vanishing
from her lips almost immediately.
“That’s the least I can give you, Z,” the Storm
Original whispered, willing for the winds to carry her words to him.
But they never did.
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