He knew something was up when she didn't have her notebook. It wasn't like Gajeel watched her, specifically, but she had a reputation throughout the school of never leaving the dorms without it. She wasn't the only one who carried pens or the like around by far. In a school full of musicians, you had to write when the inspiration hit you, no matter when or where.
Levy McGarden, however, took it to the extreme. He was sure she slept with her sheet music and lyric books under her pillow, but that couldn't be the reason they were bothering her. There were many more apparent, reasons, easier reasons, simpler, less creative reasons to do that, like her height, her hair color, and her tendency to hand in homework on time or early. There were also reasons to be jealous of her, like the fact that she sang and played piano and violin, and she was great at all of them. Or the fact that she still managed to ace all her tests, musical and otherwise.
But even so, the first time he walked in on her crawling on hands and knees, gathering scattered music sheets, though he wasn't surprised, he found himself almost disappointed. Gajeel's general view of the human species was pessimistic to say the least, but he thought the people at this school were better than that.
He ran a hand through his hair, closing his eyes irritably. He wasn't fond of people who couldn't defend himself, but leaving her there would make him no better then the ones who had dumped her stuff in the first place. He dropped his hands to his sides, before offering, with a sigh, "you want help with that?" He wasn't a jerk, even if he did look the part a little too well.
He expected her to peer up at him, all teary eyed, and agree, maybe even beg him, but Gajeel was afforded barely any notice. She simply shrugged nonchalantly. "I'll be done in a minute." The only part if her he could see was her mess of blue hair, natural he had been told, but her posture wasn't of someone who looked like they'd cave at any moment. She seemed resigned to the fact. But not particularly bothered. "You can have the piano if you'd like," she added after a few moments. "I can do violin somewhere else."
"Nah." He sat down in a chair with a creak, watching her with his chin balanced on his palm. Perhaps it was better that she hadn't fought back. It might have encouraged them, and she was a small one. Didn't look like she could stand a punch. "I mainly play cello anyways, and bass."
"I'd love to hear you play." Levy stood up, dusting off her skirts, rearranging the papers in her hands in a matter-of-fact way, before placing them on the piano. She pulled pit the bench with her foot, and sat down on it none too neatly, before launching into a series if scales, chords, and arpeggios so quickly her fingers nearly blurred. "You're welcome to stay," she added as if on an afterthought, but didn't look up from where her eyes were glued to the keys.
So he did.
The next day, Gajeel came to the room McGarden always practiced in early, shooting a glare at the first few students who tried to enter. He occupied himself by tuning his preferred instrument by ear, and then checking it against the piano to see how close he got. She came in fifteen minutes later, looking cautious at the noise. Peeking in, her face lit up when she caught sight of who he was, and she strolled in happily, her music sheets tucked under her arm, along with the notebook.
"Who'd you think I was?" Gajeel found himself asking curiously, as she sat down on the piano bench backwards to watch him. She shrugged nonchalantly.
"Could've been anyone. Sting, Minerva, the group, you know." She clasped her hands expectedly, eyes glued on him. "So, are you going to play?"
He gave an exaggerated sigh, more out of principal than anything else, before letting out a song he had been working on. She was a good audience, attentive but silent, appreciative but fair, encouraging but not pressuring. She clapped at the proper parts, i.e. the end, and though not quick to give criticisms, she supplied them when he asked. They did scales together, afterwards, and arpeggios.
And if he scared off a few student who had come by the practice room to torment his practice partner, who was going to say anything?
Request: Gajevy, Gajeel helps Levy with bullies.