A/N: So, my dear friend Fullbusterrulesmyheart wrote a ficlet and somehow I caught a bunny (surprising, huh? xD) related to Natsu and Gray. This drabble of mine pales in comparison with the awesomeness of the source of inspiration but, here it goes…
Unbetaed.
Broken
Alright. Gray tells himself. One more time. Just one more time. He stands on shaking legs. A deep breath fills his lungs as he inhales deeply.
It's hard to stay back. Gray squeezes his eyes shut, teeth clenching hard. Even if it pains me so. How is it that all you desire is my pain? Breath chokes in his throat.
Why do the soulless not have soulmates?
It's a question that will forever remain unanswered. Even if it hurts so much… even if it's as if his soul is being ripped off him with every passing moment.
Gray's mouth opened, an attempt to breathe, to taste the air, to gulp a lungful. But it felt short, it wasn't as breathing was before. It felt shallow, not enough, never like before.
But it's cold. Not the cold Gray's used to, though. A harsher, freezing cold that fills him with all its sharp edges, biting, unending. Was this what Ur felt? Was this what she suffered?
It feels as if his tongue's about to fall off. Limbs feeling leaden and useless. Thoughts straying to him.
Him.
Him.
Always him!
Why do you torture yourself by repeating the same mistakes? Gray asks himself.
He can't answer.
But now the air has become a wind, sharp and cutting. Slicing through Gray, like greedy hands that want to plunge into the flesh and pull, tear everything apart, rip him open until his insides are exposed, a nerve out in the open.
Unexpected tears fall from his eyes. He doesn't know where they're coming from, only knows that they're freezing against his skin. The tiny droplets burning a path down his cheek.
It's soft.
The hidden underbelly that he almost never shows, knowing that he'll be hurt.
But even despite his armour, hard edged and impervious to many things, what shines through is what Gray always wanted to be. Yet, he can't really allow that one part to come to the fore. Too dangerous.
But sometimes…softly, slowly, he'll make way to his true objectives.
Yet.
Everything is for naught as the softness is counteracted by harshness. Gray knows that it's not completely intended. Awkward innocence sometimes can hurt more than anything.
But it hurts.
Hurts when there's the crack made by his stepping upon Gray's broken form. It cracks and crumbles. Softly, inaudibly, but still very truly.
Not knowing can be more cruel than knowing. Careless actions hurt more than intended ones, the cut twice as deep.
Yet, he still does that and Gray is helpless to prevent that.
It's like there were boots that were carelessly crushing the ice underfoot. It's something so usual, one doesn't really pay notice. It is natural to happen for someone to be standing. But sometimes the comparison is just too close from reality.
How can you crush something that isn't even held together? You've crushed me. Gray thinks despondently. How can that be?
But it always has a start, blinding brightness encompassing the world. For one moment everything is light and bright.
But, somehow, it merges with darkness, subtle brush strokes that become heavier and heavier, adding, first light grey followed by darker and darker tones until the darkness that before was only one line in the horizon becomes half of the world; the battle between light and dark before one's eyes.
And it's then that Gray realized. He was caught again.
The gentleness that is anything but, scissors running through tattered bones, taking everything away until Gray's just a shredded mess.
A pile to sit in the corner.
Unimportant.
And with that, darkness wins, the light goes away.
And Gray just stays there. Regrouping, regaining his breath. Trying to gather everything once again. Or so he tries.
He can hear voices, words being said to him.
But he doesn't really comprehend what they mean.
Maybe someone died.
Maybe he's bleeding.
He's so unfeeling but he tries once more, he has to listen.
So, I died? I think… He thinks blankly. He's still breathing, blood is still rushing through his veins but yes, some part of him probably didn't take it. But Gray is devoid of emotions, left empty.
Why?
Because he – Natsu – is holding them, carelessly, in his hands. Angst being held lightly, amusedly.
You do like my pain. Gray realizes. Not in wonder. And all I end up having is you. But I don't, not really. And you don't see what you do.
It's a surprise how he doesn't realize it himself, despite his indefatigable determination to slice down on Gray, cutting at him until he can no longer run back, move.
And the darkness brings the rain.
A cleanser of worlds.
Except for my soul. Gray muses. As I'm sick yet I return to you. In the hopeless hope that you will heal me. Will you?
No. You'll hold me while I'm bleeding, waiting for it to stop; yet you'll make me bleed until I don't have another option but stop running away from you.
There's pain, constantly, but it doesn't faze Gray. He's used to it, has survived worst – or maybe not – but he can't help himself from returning, like a parasite.
But it's okay. He reasons with himself. Just one more time.
Though this has a price.
Gray will always pay the price. His body being torn apart, nick by nick. It doesn't matter. He'll still run towards Natsu, even if the trek is like running barefoot on lava or running through quaking boulevards, the little bits of stone piercing the skin of his feet.
Yet, running back to him is like hiding tears in the rain. Silent and unnoticed. A secret.
Gray knows that when he reaches Natsu, the end of the trek, he'll be held up close. And after all the aches, he'll slump bonelessly into Natsu. Almost as if wanting their bodies to meld together, melt into each other while delicate touches soothe his aching form but Natsu's smile burns. It's as if a fire erupted in Gray's breast, all-consuming.
Yes, no doubt about it. Gray thinks, seeing the smile – it has so many meanings and not all of them are positive. You love my pain.
But then fingers grasp his chin, tilting his head up, slumped form going straighter, and Gray has no other option but look into Natsu's eyes.
He almost never backs away from Natsu but… now he does. He's scared. Natsu's eyes are shining too bright, too red, and it makes Gray's stomach twist unpleasantly. He shouldn't be there, like that.
Cold wind brushes through him, not the one he's used to, the too biting one and he's back. Kneeling and trying to stand up.
Alright. Gray tells himself. Just. One. More. Time.