If Wishes Were Moonbeams
If wishes were moonbeams the night would glow silver. And he would devour it. But they weren't. The night was dark. The night was always dark because wishes were pointless. Wishes gave neither heat nor light. Sustenance or health.
He shouldn't drink so much. Drinking made him hella sappy. But then he couldn't stop either. Goddamn fight. Goddamn island. Goddamn dark guild. All of it coiled into one big ball of anger and shame in his throat, and the only relief he'd found was at the bar.
A chicken and a stupid fucking cosplay samurai with a shit sword took him out of the game. All those other tough bastards swarming the place. All that action. And he missed it. He fucking missed all of it because of a goddamn chicken.
It was embarrassing, and it pissed him off. The shrimp carried him – carried him – after he blacked out. How the tiny bookworm had managed that he still couldn't imagine. But Erza told him it was true; Levy carried him from the place he fought back to base and patched him up.
Where he stayed blacked out and fucking useless. That creepy tongue freak had to save them during a later fight because he was still knocked on his ass. Too many people knocked senseless from too many fights for the little kid to heal, so he stayed hurt. Stayed useless.
His cat was around somewhere. He wasn't sure where. That was the major difference in his relationship with the cat and the relationships of the other two dragonslayers with theirs; he didn't always know where Lily was. Not a big deal, maybe, but then maybe it was. What was the point in having a cat if he didn't actually have a cat?
Shit he should stop drinking.
For some reason the mug in front of him was full. It shouldn't be full. It should be something other than full … but …
Whatever.
He was also ashamed for another reason. What had these pansy-ass losers turned him into? The Phantom him would have never gone through something so stupid. Walking around on that stupid, messed up island, saying things that sounded way too much like something that fire-breathing idealist would say … that wasn't the him he knew.
And it wasn't a him who could do the things he had to do. He was getting too close to these idiots, and too close to them meant he wouldn't be able to take care of the one person that actually mattered.
Him.
Author's Note: So … yeah. We've been stuck on the island so long I keep writing about that point. That Gajeel was taken out by a fucking chicken really bothers me. Sure it was more the weird looking samurai, but a CHICKEN. I miss him; he needs to wake up soon.