Had to re-upload these without song lyrics, my bad. The story still flows properly so no need for anymore flagging okay? I wrote this with only good intentions ~ xDare2Writex
What a Good Woman Does…
He's gone for good.
The words curled around in Juvia's head before strangling her.
She wanted to scream, but it would be pointless. No one would hear her. Not in this rain infested town, not in this little cottage once considered a home. She was sick and useless, and tired of being sick and useless. Once, she had dreams, love and a place to call her own but that was over with now…
He's not coming back.
She was torturing herself. Going crazier and crazier day by day. She regarded herself and found who she was repugnant. When had she become like this? Since when did love cause you to lose sight of who you are in the mirror? Was this even love at all? Or just some sick delusion made up in fantasy?
Maybe he had never been hers at all. She was beginning to see a different side to this, and it actually felt one-sided only. Had he ever shown any type of feelings other than regard for a colleague?
Juvia had been sitting outside in the rain, sitting on a barrel on the front porch. She wasn't soaked, but her skin had long ago become clammy. The rain drops had mixed with her natural sweat. She had been outside for hours by now. Peeling herself off the barrel to go back inside, the bluenette felt nothing in her veins.
Once through the doorway, floods of memories came rushing back. Better times, when Gray had joined her on missions, fought with her, cooked with her, laughed with her, joked with her sometimes. Memories that she thought would have kept him there for years with her. Maybe that hadn't been the best idea.
Wriggling off her damp clothes, Juvia decided to put on a record and soak in the tub. Maybe it will help pass the time until Gray-Sama returns… She caught herself with this thought and hated herself even more. Flick! She pushed the needle on her beloved vintage Victrola record player. The haunting, enchanting female's voice began to sing a sad love ballad.
This is nice, Juvia thought, well about as nice as it can be in her situation. She leaned her body into the steaming water, eliciting a small gasp of pleasure from herself. Her tub was a traditional round shape; while it prevented her from stretching out, Juvia found she loved it. After all, how many homes still had a traditional round bathtub?
She took a handful of bath flower petals and sprinkled them into the faucet Jetstream. They swirled and danced under the water like colored glowing lights. Next, she sprinkled some Gardenia and Freesia essential oils in the water. She was beginning to feel a bit better, mostly because the spritzed, clammy feeling was eradicated in the hot steam. Outside her window, the sun was setting while still raining, casting a very golden shadow.
Had Gray-Sama ever cared for her? Surely, by now he knew how much Juvia cared for him? She had gone out of her way to not be a bother, picking up after him as well as herself, cooking for him, cleaning the place. She tried to keep her obsessive outbursts to a minimum, as she was aware how desperate they sounded. She even tried to speak in first person sometimes, thinking that might make her more attractive. That ended rather quickly, as she recalled Gray thought she was having some sort of fit when she referred to herself in first person. The Victrola crooned on as she soaked, and the words steeped into her soul.
When that black stuff overtook Gray's body, she was of course concerned and worried. Now she realized, going under the water, that Gray didn't need her. He never had. What's more, he didn't seem to want her either. This stung and hurt like hell. Her big cobalt eyes formed tears, but they just joined the bath water.
It might take her forever, but she was determined to dry these tears and stop wasting her life on someone who so clearly didn't want her in his. Gray was no longer her sama, and she was not bound up with his fate, wherever he was. She could do this. She rose partially out of the tub, rubbing her eyes and breathing a sigh of relief for the first time in months. No, she had to do this.
Fine. She would prove it to herself by getting over him.
After all, Juvia was a good woman. A very good, good woman.
The Victrola stopped playing.
End.