"I heard what happened in the newspapers. I can't believe someone would do such a terrible thing!" Mercy's cyan irises glued to the well-defined, feminine visage of the woman seated beside her on the living room couch, the soft, plump cushions beneath each of their unique physiques serving as a suitable source of generous comfort. "I know! It was horrible. Theodore was thankfully arrested." Clara's soft, sweet vocals, taut with a kind warmth, piped up from her position in a plump armchair, whose locality remained perched within the cozily decorated room's opposing corner. Without forewarning, two wee, fur-clad creatures breached into Mercy's family's living room in a swift dash, a pair of diversely bred dogs thrilled by the excitement of a childishly playful round of tag. Patches trailed behind Talulah in an adrenaline-fueled chase, his fluffed tail streaming behind him in a black and white blur. The stout, fawn-colored pug maneuvered betwixt the seated woman's bent legs, a warm, kind-hearted chortle sliding past her rosy, grinning lips, her joyful baby blue irises transfixed to the innocent scene. "Oh, did you get a new dog?" Whilst Ansara uttered a harmless query to Clara, the brown-haired woman's intently observant gaze swapped its focus unto Mercy's mother leisurely seated over yonder. "That's Talulah. She's Molly and Isaiah's dog. We decided to keep the pug when we adopted Molly." With a cheery smile of her own, Clara informed in riposte, her femininely bijou, svelte palm gesturing to Talulah in a brief, natural motion.

     Like the beaming sun gifting the world with its precious light, Ansara's entire visage lit ablaze with a fresh, joyful lathering, her already present smile widening a tad. "I've heard a lot about Molly. Where is she now? I'd love to meet her!" She chirped, her optimistic enthusiasm provoking Mercy's own bow-shaped lips to twitch into the faint beginnings of a smile, an expression which had been specially bestowed upon her at birth. "She's at the graveyard currently, visiting Isaiah's grave. Miraz accompanied her to keep her safe." Clara's poised, curvaceous physique shifted idly in awkward, wary-induced movements, an apologetic shine soon conquering the dark forest-like greens of her eyes. "Miraz and I have become quite overprotective. We're still cautious over what happened with Theodore." Ansara's cranium, adorned by braided chestnut locks, bobbed in a sympathetic nod, her pasty features twisting in understanding with such suddenness that one would have hardly been supplied with the proper time to blink. "I understand, Clara. No one blames you, either."

     The sharp rapping of flesh upon a wooden door shattered the peaceful silence, the familiar sound an iconic alert that an unbeknownst individual had arrived upon the Mystic family's oak-carved porch. "I'll get the door." Mercy proffered in a decision that came quite naturally to her, her body already rising to her slim haunches so as to permit her soles to flatten upon the lurking floorboards beneath. "Mercy, please do be careful. How about I come with you?" Clara piped up, her usual serene, undisturbed vocables doused with anew, heavyweight frets. "It's alright, Mom. If it's a sketchy stranger, then I'll just close the door." As Mercy's silhouette dispersed down the awaiting corridor at an unconcerned stroll, Ansara sluggishly following in pursuit after having bid the living room couch adieu. "I'll stay near just in case." The middle-aged woman reassured Clara while peering over her shoulder; however, the inevitable gyrating of her skull resulted so she could be aware of where her shoe-garbed feet treaded. Upon having finally journeyed towards her shut front door, Mercy's fingertips slipped around the cold knob in a mere coil, the simple twisting of her lean wrist allowing her to witness who loitered patiently in wait at her oak-crafted doorstep. "Who is it?" The juvenile girl inquired, her cyan irises perceiving the steadily increasing view of a stock-still lad's youthful visage the further the door creaked open. Mercy swore her jaw could've dropped right at that moment, such an unexpected encounter having internally stunned her senseless. "Mercy? Hi. It's Percy Young from the local church. It's good to see you." His lips curved into a sweet, angelic smile, his hazel orbs kindly locking with Mercy's so as to initiate a respectful maintenance of recently adapted eye contact.

With the oak, paint-coated door ajar and hovering to the side, Mercy lingered in the midst of the threshold's wood-designed frame, a smile once again resurfacing upon her blanched features. "I remember you. I really enjoy your sermons on Sundays. They mean a lot to me." Percy's simple arrival at Mercy's door of all places summoned an overwhelming barrage of inquiries to the girl's frontal lobe, and she did not require a logical pondering to be aware that, in order to placate the buzzing thoughts within her mind, she would have to deliver her own inquiry to the generous, tender soul standing before her. "What brings you here, Percy?" In a question that bore no ill-intent whatsoever, Mercy proceeded next to patiently await the young pastor's response, her uniquely colored gaze still locked with Percy's. "Well, I'm glad that you and your family are alright." Percy began, his slim, lanky fingertips weaving together in an awkward, ungrateful knot of nervously fiddling digits. "I just wanted to visit, but it's because I'm here to see you. There has been something that I've been desperate to tell you about." His vocals had, with an unpredicted abruptness, adopted a shy, soft-spoken pitch, his kind-brewed tone having altered into such a state that Mercy had never born witness to before. It had surprised her so much that she could have stumbled upon her own feet if she had desired to, but fortunately, the bewildered female maintained her tranquil demeanor. "What is it, Percy?" Mercy released a faint ether in her patient wait, her brows nearly furrowing in a deep muse. Surely whatever Percy desired to inform her of had to be of grand, voluminous importance, since the angel of a boy had ventured so far from his own abode just to see her.

The fierce, nippy bite of the brewing zephyrs sent chills riding up the distinct curvature it Mercy's lumbar, the puny hair's upon her arms erecting themselves purely out of a provoked bout of fright. Percy idled even further almost as if he had become as mute as an adeptly created stone statue, until, after what felt like eons, the hazel-irised lad found his required voice. "We've known each other since childhood, but I've never really been present all that much. Being the only pastor at the church stole most of my time from me, and I wanted to apologize for being absent for so long." The boy, doing his best to ignore the way the roused, irked, tempest winds tossed his brown locks to and fro, his palms still clasped together in a tight, clammy embrace. "Don't get me wrong, Mercy. I truly adore my profession as a preacher of God's glorious Word." The boy's steadily mounting flustered, stressful anxieties did little to aid him in emphasizing his reasonings for being at Mercy's humble home, but they could not cease the fuzzy, genuine warmth rooted within his rapidly thudding, swooned heart. "I was, well, thinking that we could maybe spend some time together sometime. Just you and I." He blurted, a rosy hue adorably spreading along the lean bridge of his nose. The visible shade, easily decipherable against the shyly fidgeting lad's pale flesh, stood out against his cheeks like an albino deer venturing into the night's vast, shadowy veil. When Mercy could not summon words to usurp her shock-consumed thoughts, Percy's evident nervousness claimed him even further like the ruthless, iron-tight grip of a grim, merciless plague. "I like you, Mercy." Percy carried on further in uncertain hopes of urging Mercy to say something in order to alleviate his powerful fear of a harsh rejection in the making. Could he even ameliorate the situation further? What if Mercy, who stood before Percy so still, judged him amongst the unknown thoughts belonging to her mind?

     Then, much to his astounding relief, did Mercy initiate a revived response, her disbelieving eyes glazed aglow with such a startled emote that Percy nearly felt guilty for his sudden confession, despite him having done nothing wrong. It was a very likely possibility that he had revealed his inner feelings much too soon to his beloved friend from childhood years, but depending on what Mercy said next, another fate in the making could creep up on his unsuspecting spirit like a menacing beast ready to lunge upon his feeble, meek prey. Alas, it was all such an uncertain gamble to Percy, but all that he could do is wait like the precious gent that he was. "You like me?" Mercy gawked from her current position neither present nor absent from her home's interior. Percy's surprising, sweet confession of formerly concealed feelings caused her to fumble for what on earth to say, but that her observant trait of hers already warned that Percy was on the verge of succumbing to the acknowledgement of a gloomy, undesirable fate. How could she leave him to suffer internally like this, his hands clasped in a dwindling hope that only an affirming acceptance could rekindle.

     Mercy knew better than to sway to pleasing another being, whether one was akin to her dominating race or not. Deep within her heart, she possessed firm, adoring feelings equal to Percy's own for her, despite them having not been able to visit one another for multiple years. However, she came to the swift realization that she might not have realized if not for Percy's rather forward spillage of his heart, which he had bled out just now for Mercy alone. The long, dreadful, awaited parting of her lips inched into existence, her collected reply on the verge of breaking into the crisp zephyrs surrounding the pair of hopeful youth. "I feel the same, Percy. I'm glad that you told me how you feel about me." Mercy's cheeks shifted into an illumine grin, her dainty, delicate palms cupping Percy's own nervously fidgeting ones. "Thank you for visiting just to tell me. It means a lot. You didn't have to do that." She murmured in a hushed utterance, her lean, femininely built arms lowering while they located Percy's sweater-garbed midsection in a newfound embrace. "You're welcome." Percy stammered, his voice cracking in adept surprise before his arms slipped around the merciful girl's torso, the initiated hug having been returned with substantial success. "Would you like to come inside for some tea?" Mercy offered, her gentle tone gracing Percy's eardrums, all the while stirring the boy from his lingering, unbelieving shock. Was this the reality that he knew? Instead of being a make-believe dream just to both tease and torture him, had this occurrence truly resulted? "Oh, sure!" The boy nodded in confirmation, and before he could stomach his disbelief so as to placate it, Mercy had kindly guided the overjoyed pastor into her lurking home.