almost lover
It's strange for her to think that once (but oh, she still does so), she'd spend hours a day everyday thinking of the little things, like how smoothly he would slip his shirt over his head, the way a single drop of beer always dribbled from the corner of his mouth as he lifted the ale to his lips, the dimple at the corner of his cheek and the way he refused to let anyone see him cry–only to lose him in a fraction of a second.
Life's fickle like that.
She tries and tries not to remember everything so clearly, but the images plague her every walking step. Onyx eyes widening and slowly trailing down to the holes ripping through his chest, his head, before falling to his knees. Her tear streaked face caked with blood and grime, screaming his name and beggingbeggingbegging him not to go was the last thing he saw before drifting off. Dying is much like lulling off into a deep sleep. Sometimes it happens slowly, and sometimes it happens in an instant. It was the latter in his case.
Juvia shakes her head of cropped blue hair. It falls to her chin, now, and she can't seem to get rid of the curl. He had told her he loved it when she wore it long, in loose waves cascading down her back. This was his punishment for disobeying her, for leaving her. Without even letting her tell him how she felt. That bastard.
She doesn't say much anything nowadays. She sits in the corner of the guild, orders the same drink day in and day out. Sometimes people try to coax her out of her shell, ask her how she's doing and how she's holding up. They offer her condolences still, even though it's been long enough. She gives them dull, single word answers full of blatant fallacies. Fine. Okay. Thanks.
They've started to believe her, because the rain has stopped, but oh, if they only knew that a storm raged at her core.
Juvia Lockser is no good at not being in love anymore.
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fix you
Gajeel's the only one who fully well knows how to handle it –at least, that's how it seems to everyone else. He makes it a point to sit beside her every day, even if hours pass with neither saying a word. Everyone thinks that he's got her all figured out, and is an expert with dealing with Juvia's grief. He'll be her rock, and her shoulder to cry on –alas, only if she'd let him.
He understands then, the dumbfuck oxymoron of so close, yet so far away. She's standing right beside him, with the fabric of her coat brushing against his arms and her lithe frame leaning into his burly stature. But Juvia, third place in his heart after Levy, after Lily –hells, she ranked above his own damn father –is worlds away, and he doesn't know how to reach her.
So when he walks her to her dorm, and suddenly she presses her body against him, stands on the balls of her feet and plants her lips on his, he stops in his tracks, too startled to respond. Her eyes are screwed shut, melding their mouths together however much he's just standing there. Gajeel knows her well enough to understand she's thinking of someone else throughout the duration of the sixteen second kiss. He can see the tears leaking from under her closed lids.
She pulls away, and sobs into his chest. Her body shakes as it is wracked by her sobs, and she clutches his shirt like a lifeline. The grey clouds roll in from nowhere, conquering the once blue skies. It begins to rain, each drop plummeting to the earth with the speed of a bullet.
He holds her close, whispering words of comfort into her damp hair.
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closing time
She starts opening up a bit more, as sort of a thank you and a sorry to the Dragonslayer. She is more receptive to conversation, gives a shaky laugh to the brewing shenanigans that occur as per usual, and has even started to dress differently, more casually. Her guildmates notice and encourage the change. She begins to take missions again, though all of them solo.
All of them dangerous.
The exhilaration of a dagger against her throat, of being surrounded by fifty armed bandits, of riding down an avalanche and standing alone at a beach waiting for the imminent crash of a tsunami can't exactly match up to the adrenaline rush of stolen glances, butterfly kisses, and sweet nothings in her ear –but they come close.
She travels alone, resting up at shady inns. She doesn't need to worry about anybody bothering her, as her reputation as Phantom's girl, as the Ame Onna, as an S-Class mage of Fairy Tail precedes her.
On one of these outings, she stops at a bar miles and miles from home, returning from a successful mission. She had killed seventeen men. She didn't think Fairy Tail had to know about that, and when the authorities asked about her grisly tactics all she had to say that she had been surrounded, and that was her only option. She orders a drink to drown away her sorrows.
A familiar face spots her. He too, had been out on a solo mission, in need of time away from the Trimen. Hibiki Lates runs a hand through soft, honey brown locks, and approaches her. He appreciatively notices her change in style, with her simple white blouse ruined with tears in it, revealing certain things the old Juvia would probably rather keep hidden. But new Juvia doesn't care anymore.
"Miss Lockser," he says, with his voice all smooth and suave. The corner of her mouth lifts, and she greets him in return. He offers to buy her another drink. She shyly accepts, though she has a faint idea of what his intentions might be.
Soon, they're talking, and laughing, and downing a couple more shots that are a lot stronger than her usual. Hibiki decides he quite likes the way her eyes light up, and her incessant babble. But he's heard the rumours, he's been to the funeral, and knows that behind that pretty, pretty porcelain doll is a grieving widow. He doesn't comment on the fact that her happy face drops slightly when she thinks he isn't watching.
A few drinks more and her eyes are beginning to get that look, cloudy with desire. She trails a finger up his forearm, and she leans over to mumble something incoherent in his ear, but he gets the message. He can't pretend that he doesn't feel it too, however much he'd blame the alcohol.
He doesn't remember if he paid for the drinks, in the end. All he knows is that he's pressing her against the wooden wall, with one had hiking up her leg against his torso, and the other fisted into her soft, blue hair. He places fervent kisses across her neck, her collarbone, her jaw line, and her lips. She's making these sounds that drive him crazy, and she arches her back against him.
Hibiki mutters something that sounds like a garbled condolence, and she swallows his words with more liplock, not wanting to remember anymore. She likes the fire welling up in her stomach when they touch, when their tongues dance, when her teeth graze against his bottom lip and he gives a low growl.
He doesn't let them go more than a heated make out session, knowing the implications of what might happen if they do. Juvia understands, and agrees with him. They depart the bar and walk together until they reach the fork in the road, parting as their paths separate. Before he leaves her, he presses his lips against her cheek, and she murmured a quiet thank you into his ear. He gave her hand a squeeze, and set off back to Blue Pegasus.
Hibiki remembers why he flirts with girls like Lucy, like Erza, and why he's in love with Jenny Realight. Girls like Juvia Lockser were different, of that there was no doubt. Girls like Juvia Lockser were a painful, tragic kind of danger.
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maybe
"Can I come in?"
She her affirmative reply is muffled by the door. Loke hesitates before turning the knob and closing it quickly. No one knows he is there. No one is supposed to, and Erza would have his hide if she were to find out. But Loke had felt obligated to follow Juvia after she had excused herself from the guild, following Natsu's painful outburst.
"He wouldn't have wanted us to be sad, after all these years –"
"Screw what that fucking stripper bastard wanted! If I want to be fucking sad, if I want to fucking cry and miss him and that stupid fucking smirk on his face, then I damn will!"
"Natsu!" Lucy had yelled, inclining her head to the water mage. Juvia had been silent, but once she saw the stares directed at her, lost it. She got up, muttered an apology, and ran out the doors.
Loke looks around the room. There are shards of shattered glass, broken china on the floor everywhere, and she's kneeling barefoot at the centre. He walks towards her, before pausing at the sound of something cracking beneath his shoe. He lifts his foot, and finds the remains of a picture frame. He bends over, careful not to cut his fingers on the shards and careful not to rip the photograph. It's him, and it's her, posing awkwardly as Mira had caught them sitting beside each other at a party and insisted on documenting it. Loke did not miss that Gray's hands looked as though they were inching towards hers.
He puts the picture on the top of her desk. He takes long, careful strides to where she is, before crouching down in front of her. Gently, he lifts her up by her arms and carries her bridal style. She is limp in his arms. He lays her on her bed, with her back against the headboard, before scouring her drawers for a set of tweezers. Once he finds them, he sits by her feet and begins the meticulous process of extracting the pieces of glass and porcelain lodged into her legs. He's cautious not to hurt her, and his eyes scrutinize his handiwork. He'd always thought she had nice legs, and even now, bloody and cauterized, he stood by his opinion. He places bandages on her wounds and lightly kisses each scrape.
He takes his shoes off before crawling up to lean against the frame and sit beside her.
"He would have been twenty-two," she says, and her voice echoes through the silence. Loke winces slightly, because he misses the bastard too. He thinks back to the photograph.
"So young," he says before his words trail off. There's a stinging in his eyes that feel suspiciously like…
"Juvia is so selfish," she says before letting out a shaky giggle. "She still can't seem to let him go."
He stops for a moment, before breaking a promise he had tauntingly swore in front of a blushing ice mage. "He loved you, you know." Another second and Loke wonders if putting it out there made it hurt even more.
If it does, she doesn't say anything about it. "Thank you, Loke-san," is all she utters, before resting her chin on his shoulder.
She's much too close, Loke thinks, and before he can stop himself, he's lowering his face to meet hers. Her eyes are closed, and he can see the tears caught on thick lashes, shining like morning dew on fresh green grass. His finger ghosts over her cheek, and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. Her head inches forward in quiet anticipation.
Some girls are like Lucy, at their best when they're happy. His mistress glittered and glowed with all the radiance of the sun, and the constellations that dotted the night sky. But Juvia Lockser looks most beautiful when she is sad.
He captures her lips.
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five minutes to midnight
A year before he is named master of the guild, Laxus Dreyar goes on a mission with Fairy Tail's resident water mage. She had been sitting around, reading a book and blocking out the noise of the guild's usual happenings. Laxus had been watching her intently, taking note of how she raised her pinky finger as she raised her tea cup to her lips, how her eyes darted left and right as she took in the text. He thinks Juvia still hasn't healed, and he begins to doubt she ever will.
He had thought back to the conversation he had held with his grandfather the night before. Makarov is growing old, growing weaker and weaker. Sometimes he just dozes off in his usual chair, and wake up not knowing where he is, or who he is. The others laugh it off, trying to dismiss it as a funny joke, but there is an unspoken uneasiness in the air that lingers after it happens. Makarov knows this, and had made it clear to his grandson that he intended for the Dragonslayer to succeed him.
If that proposition had been made years earlier, Laxus would have jumped at the idea, probably yearning for the old man's imminent demise. But now, he isn't so sure that he's ready –if he's worthy, even. What makes him qualified to hold the wellbeing of these people in his hands? Hasn't he already proven that his ambition was a dangerous thing? And besides, what did he know about any of the people he would be charged with protecting?
Makarov had simply smiled and told him it wasn't too late to learn.
Laxus takes those words to heart and sees the same faces differently. Amidst all the raucous cheers and laughter that ring through the guild now, there is pain, there is loss. Each member had their own heartbreak. And with Gray's passing a few years earlier, that had put everyone in a depression. It reminded –no, reminds everyone that theirs is a perilous profession.
She had been –no, is the most affected.
And Laxus wonders if he can fix them all. He tries, firstly, with Juvia.
He chooses something treacherous, something that would have them bound to end up with cuts and bruises all over. He notices that those are what she's been favouring as of late.
Their mission is to bust an entire business of illegal weapon smuggling. It's lacrima charged technology, and some of the bigger models are rumoured to have little Etherion cannons in them. The Council wants them done with, whatever means necessary. The goons themselves are supposedly a force to be reckoned with, trained to wield the weapons like a pro. There are about two hundred armed men guarding the warehouse.
The poor fuckers don't stand a chance.
They make good partners, as water is a naturally excellent conductor of electricity. Not long after they've busted the doors open, there isn't a conscious soul within a hundred mile radius, save for the two of them. Laxus stares as she disposes of the last guard, with sweat trickling down her forehead, her hair mussed, and the bottom of her lip split. Her chest heaves as she throws him on the floor, and she wipes her face on the back of her hand.
The sight of her awakens something within him, and he grabs the back of her head and crashes his mouth onto hers. She responds instantaneously, pressing her lips firmly against his, jumping up and hooking her legs around his waist. He cradles her firm butt with one hand, the other steadying her back. She digs her nails into his arms as he does deliciously sinful things with his tongue. He doesn't stop kissing her as he walks toward the wall, bumping into a few boxes of cargo along the way. A part of him knows that she probably doesn't have him in her head, but he honest to God doesn't give a fuck.
He lets her down to stand, but doesn't release his hold on her. He raises her hands above her head, with her back trapped between his body and the wall. He continues his assault on her lips before trailing down to her neck and biting down hard. A silent shriek escapes her. Laxus isn't meant to be a gentle lover. She can't find it in herself to mind.
On their way back home, Laxus tells her he doesn't intend to begin a relationship between them, nor have a repeat of the incident. Juvia gives him this queer sort of smug look, and tells him the thought hadn't even crossed her mind. He neglects to tell her that it had briefly passed through his.
She cheers the loudest when he is named the fifth –or is it seventh? –master of Fairy Tail.
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champagne supernova
It's at a gala for the different guilds when she adds his heart to her growing collection.
Sabertooth and Mermaid Heel had been allowed into the ranks of the allies, Quatro Cerberus, Blue Pegasus, Lamia Scale, and Fairy Tail. Minerva had since reformed from her stunt at the Grand Magic Games, and was leading the guild well, albeit maintaining her strictness about strength in its members.
Many other guilds are present, but it is clear to see which groups are the favourites amongst the civilians in attendance. Everyone is dressed to the nines, including his usually scruffy team members. He sees Sting pulling at his tie like it's a hanging noose, and Orga shifting uncomfortably in his blazer that's much too small for him. The big man would much rather be shirtless.
Rufus doesn't bother dressing up. His usual apparel is enough for the occasion.
The crowd starts to filter in, and familiar faces are lost in the tide of people. He speaks when spoken too, making small talk when necessary, but does his best to reach the uninhabited part of the ballroom to collect himself. Finally, when he succeeds in breaking through the barrier of people, he holds his knees for support as he takes deep breaths. He stands to smooth out his red vest and the rumples on his ruffled button up.
"Not a fan of crowds either?" an amused voice asks, and he whirls around.
She's a stunner that night. He's always thought her to be the prettiest of the Fairies, but she looks significantly more different, and in one moment he feels his breath hitch in his throat. Her hair is finally long enough to pin up and do uncomfortable twisty things too, and she lets two blue tendrils fall and frame her face. Her eyes are dusted sapphire, and she has the slightest tint of rouge on her cheeks. Her lips are painted a mature burgundy. She dons a strapless, midnight blue number with a slight shimmer catching the light.
"I'm sorry to intrude on your sanctuary," he says as soon as he manages to find his voice.
"Juvia doesn't mind," she replies genuinely, and he recalls with a fondness that she refers to herself in third person.
They sit down and talk like old friends do when they meet after a very long time; open, but still cautious of someone who willingly left your life. They reminisce about facing each other in the first round of the Games.
They arrive upon the subject of Gray.
"He remains, to this day, one of the most memorable opponents I have ever faced," he says in awe of the memory, before his eyes dart to study her expression. "I'm truly sorry for your loss. You loved him." A statement, not a question.
She doesn't hesitate. "Juvia loves him. Juvia will always love Gray-sama.," she declares so honestly that he wonders how any man could be that lucky.
There's a resounding crash, and the inevitable scuffle finally breaks out. No doubt Natsu Dragneel had started it, but Rufus is counting on his guild members jumping into the fray with verve. The Lady will be upset.
"Ah, excuse me, Miss Juvia, but it appears I extract my comrades from the ball. Until next time," he said, sweeping into a full blown bow. He takes her hand and kisses it. As he rises, he leans forward, about to kiss her on the cheek when she tilts her head at the last second for their lips to meet.
She tastes like bittersweet goodbyes.
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falling in love at a coffeeshop
She's twenty four when Lyon Bastia somehow gets her to wake up at two in the morning and realize that she's in love with him.
A year ago, he had contacted her, saying he would be in town for a couple of days and asking if she would like to go out for a coffee, perhaps. Juvia accepted, and they met at a quaint little café at the heart of Magnolia. Over black coffee for him, Earl Grey tea for her, he made it clear that he was still as taken with her as he was when she was seventeen. Juvia had blushed heavily during his monologue, on that resounded throughout the entire café so that everyone could hear them, and was embarrassed to tell him that she wasn't interested in a relationship. He had smiled at her, telling her that he knew and that it was okay.
Since that day, Lyon hasn't even mentioned the L-O-V-E word. But his feelings manifest in the most special ways, like commuting between their two towns every day just so his day won't go by without seeing her face. Juvia has given up on counting the bouquets of bluebells and blue roses that without fail he sends, and has taken to collecting the strings.
And between the walks along a sunset beach and picnics in the park and getting caught in a thunderstorm and making him chicken soup when he gets sick afterwards, she feels her hardened heart beginning to melt. It's a slow process; in stark contrast to the seconds it took for her to fall in love with Gray. That's what makes it every bit as special. That's what makes her terrified.
Because after not being in love for so long, Juvia can safely say that she's quite forgotten how to be. The knots in her chest are uncomfortable, and suddenly she doesn't know why she feels like maiming any woman who comes within a fifteen foot radius of him and looks at him funny.
She refuses to kiss him.
Kissing Lyon wouldn't at all be like kissing all those other boys who were there to take her little broken pieces and tape her back together again. No, kissing Lyon would no doubt lead to something more, something that would inevitably break the both of them. Juvia vaguely wonders if she's being stupid, but it all makes so much sense in her head.
She starts avoiding him. She takes missions, coming and going. She refuses to answer any of her calls, and when he tries to talk to her at the guild, she'll simply apologize, say she's busy and go on another mission. She tries to ignore the urge to kiss him senseless when his expression falls, and she can pinpoint the exact moment his heart breaks each time.
He doesn't give up, though.
So maybe she shouldn't be surprised when at midnight she can hear something tapping on her window, and when she creeps out of bed to investigate, she can see the top of his silver head, tossing rocks at the glass.
"What are you doing?" she shouts down to him, and he replies with all the madness of a man in love.
"You're in love with me!" A statement, not a question.
"Yes, you idiot, and that's exactly why we can't be together." Because who can argue with that logic?
"And you're still in love with Gray," he says a little bit softer, but loud enough so her heart can sink to her stomach.
"Yes."
But then he regains his bravado, and yells about how he doesn't care in the slightest, because it's her he wants, it's her he loves. Being second is okay, so long as he knows some part of her loves him that's enough for her. He's never needed anything more than the fickle water mage, with her endless tears and broken smiles that ever reach her eyes. He loves her and all her crazy.
It's one of those speeches can't come to you when you're trying to write it down, because they're awful on the aspect of technicalities. They're unstructured, redundant, and maybe to an extent nonsensical. But they're honest. They're the kind that make you, with tears in your eyes, place your feet on your window pane and jump down into the waiting arms of whoever said those beautiful, beautiful things, because you know they will be there to catch you.
And that's exactly what Juvia does.
She flies into him, and he swings her around with her feet off the ground before they tumble into the damp grass. They're laughing and crying at the same time, and she gives him a big wet kiss as her arms snake around his neck. He smiles as he presses his lips eagerly against hers, combing through her soft blue hair with his fingers as she lies on top of him.
They're interrupted by the sound of cheers coming from her bedroom, and look up to see all the residents of Fairy Hills watching them. Most everyone older than Juvia –Erza, Cana and Mirajane and everyone –has gone and gotten married, but Wendy is there, rallying the younger ones, and she's standing there in front, smirking at them. Juvia doesn't move from where she lies, and shoots a jet of water to douse them. They retreat back into their respective rooms, screaming.
"Now where were we?" Juvia says slyly before bringing her face back down to meet his.
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tonight
Two days before her wedding, she visits his grave. It's after dark, and she's alone. She had been a bit scared to tell Lyon where she was going, thinking it would make it seem as though she isn't over him at all. But her fiancé had simply smiled and kissed the top of her head in understanding. She needs closure, and he knows this well. All he wants is what's best for her, and truly, truly she loves him with all of her heart.
A few months back, she had been absolutely terrified at the prospect of falling for him, because a part of her wasn't ready not to stop being in love with Gray. But the more she had thought about it, she realized that love didn't work like that. Love isn't like giving away sugar, and she needn't fear that her supply would diminish slowly each time she shares it with somebody. Love is something she'll never run out of.
She brings him a single dark pink rose in full bloom, and lays it on top of his grave marker. She sits on the grass, the matter of her pretty pink sundress getting ruined unimportant. She shivers slightly as the night's crisp chill kisses her skin, and she tugs on her shawl. She runs her hand over the smooth stone, tracing the name carved into it.
She begins to speak. It comes out awkward and forced at first, as she is unused to talking to nobody, not even talking to herself. But she gains confidence as she continues, chattering freely as if he really is there, because the longer she stays the more she can feel him. She imagines him listening to her ramble on and on about wedding themes and unreliable caterers, finding the perfect dress, how Lyon had proposed on a beach and they had almost lost the ring in the sand, how beautiful no-longer-little Asuka Connell was becoming, how Lucy is such a scary pregnant lady, and how everyone misses him terribly.
"Lyon-sama really misses Gray-sama as well. You two were brothers, Juvia knows, even if you did fight a lot. And this morning," Juvia remembers with a watery smile, "he said that our first child is going to be named Gray, whether it's a boy or a girl. Juvia hopes Gray-sama doesn't mind his name being turned into a unisex one." She gives a shaky chuckle. Her tone softens.
"Juvia really loves Lyon-sama. Juvia doesn't know what she's done to deserve someone as wonderful as him. And you know what, Gray-sama? Juvia really loves you too. She's never stopped, and she loves you just as much as she did on the day we first met. She misses you so, so much. Juvia's never believed in a heaven, but she thinks that's where you are, anyways. Juvia hopes you're happy. "
Another breeze whips her face, but it gets warmer and warmer, and she thinks she can feel his arms around her. She closes her eyes, and his dark bangs tickle the bridge of his nose as he puts their foreheads together. His calloused hands cup her face, brushing away the tears racing down her skin with his thumbs. He kisses her, from her wet lids, to the tip of her button nose, to each cheek, before finally her lips. She swears she can feel the weight of something more than air moving against her mouth, and she simply stays where she is.
When she opens her eyes, she's startled to find another pair, onyx ones, staring back at her, with laugh lines crinkling on the side. She blinks again, and there is no one.
She dabs at her eyes with a rag, and dusts herself off before heading home. But not before she looks up at the sky and thanks the stars for shining so brightly.
Thank you for loving me, Juvia.
Juvia will love Gray-sama forever.
A/N: I gave that bitch a harem. Bitches love harems. Haha, I'm sort of happy with the turnout of this drabble thing, though I'm not too satisfied with the ending. I had to do a lot of research to improve how I wrote kissing scenes. And by research, I mean watch numerous clips of movie kisses on Youtube. Did I get any better?
Songs used:
Almost Lover - A Fine Frenzy
Fix You - Coldplay
Closing Time - Semisonic
Maybe - Secondhand Serenade
Five Minutes to Midnight - Boys Like Girls
Champagne Supernova - Oasis
Falling in Love at a Coffee Shop -Landon Pigg
Tonight - FM Static
Thanks for reading! I do hope you review. Any form of praise, critique and flame is welcome.
DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN FAIRY TAIL