Fairy Tail belongs to Hiro Mashima
Memory
While rot grabbed her lungs, making it difficult to breathe, and Death meandered to her stoop, she thought of one thing, one moment in time, a flicker of light in a lifetime of ache. A faded memory. As distant as a dream on the decaying edge of a spider's web. She gripped it with the last of her will to live and descended into a sequence that had been altered by time and changed by perception. Being on the brink made her kinder, made things seem sweeter. His touch on her unwrinkled cheek delicate, his breath on her lips no longer tainted in wine but with the saccharine flavour of fruit.
When he kissed her, it wasn't in the dark of his room after a night of too much indulgence, it was bathed in the glow of the hot summer's sun. When he touched her body, she wasn't nervous and too immobile. She touched him back. When he undressed her and laid her down on his bed, she was confident and knew what to do.
In that false memory, she weaved her fingers through hair unmarred by grey; she said his name and he begged to hear it again. She burned up with an emotion she still couldn't put name to and it didn't frighten her.
Most importantly, though, when he asked her the next day to forgive him and forget, she said no instead of yes. She went to him again with the same demands, instead of remoulding the friendship they had. She stayed in Fairy Tail instead of going on her own. She laughed instead of wrapping herself in silence.
She took a chance to love instead of loathe.
Death seized up her lungs and hauled her into the night. The light of what could have been guided her.
Impromptu… whatever the fuck this is.
Thanks, anyone that dared to read.
-Freyja
