So, I started writing a Lapidot human AU fanfic. I wanted to post it on AO3, but Iâm still on the waiting list for getting an account. Therefore, I decided to post it here! Comments and suggestions are appreciated!^^ Thanks so much!
Summary: Itâs been 3 years since Peridotâs roommate, Lapis Lazuli, left their small house in the countryside of Beach City without a trace. Now, years later, Peridotâs found her again, and demands answers for why she left the perfect life they had together, and whether or not Peridot is to blame. In trying to get Lapis to come home, both will have to face parts of their past, some of which they never wanted to relive.
Beach City, August, Present
âWelcome to the the Seaâs Edge Diner, my name is Pearl. How can I help you today?â
Peridot stared down at her table, only half listening to her peach-haired, bird-like waitress as she chattered away.
âUh...may I have the clam chowder?â she responded, finally looking up.
âSure thing!â Pearl chirped before walking off.
Peridot took off her green-tinted glasses and rubbed her eyes. She had gotten only a couple of hours of sleep last night. Her blond hair stuck up, unbrushed. Even her alien-patterned clothing was disheveled. She would have tried to go back to sleep, but if she did, she knew that the same repeating nightmare would plague her. The same nightmares that hadnât come back since Lapis left three years ago.
For the longest time, Peridot had been fine. Three years is a lot of time, after all. Three years is just the right amount of time, really. In three years, one can fund enough money online to open her own flower shop to distract from the constant loneliness plaguing her half-empty house. In three years, a person can finally give up looking for the love of her life and accept the fact that she will never come back. In three years, one can build the skill of hiding sadness. And yet, it only takes one thought to trigger what years of therapy and support had suppressed. She just couldnât go back to sleep with the thought that she could relive her roommate leaving over and over again.
Peridot looked around. The small diner was painted a light blue with sunshine yellow curtains on each window. The smell of Chowder and chicken soup wafted through the room, making Peridotâs mouth water. The most noticeable detail, however, was the bright paintings on nearly every wall. With a name like âSeaâs Edge Diner,â one would expect paintings of the ocean and beach, and yet, sunflowers and rolling hills were painted across the large canvases. Every part of the paintings was in stunning detail. One picture towards the front of the building portrayed sunflowers against a setting sun so realistic that Peridot could almost smell the country air. Another near the chefâs counter was a red barn surrounded by yellow corn and sunshine. The painting to the left of her showed a small two-story house atop a hill, looking over the country and sea in the distance. The one behind her, however, showed a little orange dog. Her fur was fuzzy, and her eyes were the same bright green as a collar she wore. Peridot squinted at the writing on the collarâs tag: âPumpkin.â
At that exact moment, her waitress arrived with a steaming bowl of clam chowder.
âUm, excuse me,â Peridot struggled to remember her name, âPearl. Who made these paintings?â
Pearl chucked. âOh, theyâre made by some local artist that the son of the dinerâs owner found painting in the park one day. Steven insisted that they display her artwork here. It doesnât quite go with the placeâs name, I suppose, but they certainly are pretty! She works in her own little studio downtown, I think itâs called the Blue Wings, or something like that.â
âD-do you know the artistâs name?â Peridot stuttered.
âActually, yes. I believe that itâs Lapis Lazuli.â
If Pearl had said anything afterwards, Peridot didnât hear it. Lapis! Sheâs really here! Her mind raced. Three years. Itâs been three years since she left. And she was in Beach City all along. She isnât dead. She isnât in some other country. She hasnât forgotten our dog. And she hasnât completely forgotten her home.
After quickly devouring the chowder and paying for her food, Peridot raced to her beaten-up green Jeep. Turning on her phone, she quickly typed âBlue Wings, Delmarva,â into Google Maps and followed the robotically-voiced directions through the brightly colored downtown Beach City.
Soon enough, she reached a chipped blue building with a painted sign haphazardly hanging above it: âBlue Wings Art Studio.â The windows had blinds pulled tightly over them, giving no clue to whether or not anyone was inside. In comparison to the other buildings in the area, this one was bland and gloomy, like a raven among a flock of parrots. Peridotâs hand shook as she reached for the teardrop-shaped doorbell.
Peridot stepped backwards at the loud noise. After regaining her footing, she calmed down and waited, shaking uncontrollably. Five minutes went by, and no one came to the door. She sighed. âMaybe that waitress was wrong. Iâm such worthless, cloddyââ Just as she turned her back on the studio, she heard the door creek open.
Standing there was a young, blue haired woman with light brown skin. She wore a paint-splattered crop top and sweatpants with a blue anklet around one of her shoe-less ankles. Her eyes were tired and dark, no longer filled with light as they had been three years ago. She opened her mouth as teardrops threatened to drip down her face.
âPeridot, is that you?â