AN: Hi guys! I know you all must hate me right now, but 2015 is here, so I wrote a quick oneshot for you all. Especially dedicated to AyuzawaYume. Just so you know, Laxana is one of my favorite pairings. Hooray. So... here's an ninetails&modern!AU.
Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
Yearning
by FT Lover
"I have died every day waiting for you;
Darling don't be afraid, I have loved you
for a thousand years;
I'll love you for a thousand more..."
—Christina Perri, A Thousand Years
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{and I'll love you for five lifetimes}
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Cana Alberona knows Laxus Dreyar relatively well.
The rays of the sun are setting in shades of crimson and a fiery orange, and the brunette is standing serenely by her apartment's glass wall, enjoying the view. Her purple eyes blink, and the image of the sunset burns an image in the back of her brain. She waits, patiently. She has gotten used to the waiting, for her partner has dealt with an innumerable amount of troubles on a daily basis and she knows.
A glass of wine idly rests in her hand. Her other arm is wrapped around herself, like the brown-haired girl is trying to comfort herself, trying desperately to keep the pieces of herself from shattering on the spot. Outside, snowflakes are lax, drifting down from the heavens like fallen letters. Cana's grip on the body of her glass tightens marginally as she eyes the snowflakes that dance away, away, away—
As the dainty white flowers of winter pirouette towards the ground far below, Cana's brain instantly connects each snowflake with a human life. She chuckles, bitter. It was ironic how each human life was so delicate and so pure. How humans can be so fickle.
How love is like the life of a snowflake—each romance is unique, yet short-lived.
Yet she is here, waiting on a man whose return isn't even completely guaranteed.
She smiles to herself, and hides her smile in her hand. Her mirth remains hidden, and her hair falls over her shoulder like a fur blanket. Her ears perk up a tad, having a life of their own after being exposed to the foggy cold of the apartment, and she takes a sip from the alcoholic beverage waiting in her hands. With her free hand, she reaches atop her head and lightly pats down on the sleek appendage. The rays of the sun bathe her in a welcoming, warming embrace, and another bushy limb hiding behind her weaves its way into the open—it is magnificent, her tail.
Or, rather, nine tails.
Cana bites back another of her countless sighs and downs the remainder of her wine. Her ears bob up and down, and her tails wave to and fro, as if they are awaiting the arrival of a special someone.
The sun has departed from their world, and all that remains is a white winter wonderland.
Snow coats the city below her, and Cana can see it all as clear as day. A soft innocent veneer blankets the night sky. The rays of what was once a sunset are now coated in shades of royal blue and indigo, and the moon has risen, her eyes large and unblinking.
The brunette is on the roof now, where no one goes. It is she and Laxus' secret place, in this lifetime. Her feet are bare, leaving footprints on the grey-and-white concrete slabs the people call a roof, yet the snow yields under her every step. Warmth emanates from her despite the unbearable cold of Magnolia winters. Her tails sway back and forth like reeds on the bank of a brook, but their movements come with a swish and they are soft, sweet, gentle.
Cana proceeds to lean against the ledge—it's a stubborn slab of rock, without a railing, because nobody ever comes up here anyway. Her ears twitch rhythmically as the wind blows past, striking up a hollow melody carved from the skyscrapers lining the horizon. Her glass is filled and dangles precariously from her fingertips, but she gazes at the concaved surface of transparency like it has offended her. After a moment's consideration, she releases a resigned sigh and gulps down the liquid in a single breath.
"May I join you?" a new voice persists, and Cana's ears press themselves against her dark brown hair in excitement. She knows who it is before turning.
"Laxus." She whips around, and her breath leaves her before she registers what is happening. He is standing there, clad in his favorite black coat with fur that lines his sleeves and his collar—fur that is nowhere near as soft as hers, of course, but that is no matter in this moment. Cana allows an easy, half-lidded smirk to slip across her face, and settles herself coyly down in the bitterly cold snow. Her tails wrap around her, but Laxus takes no notice. He has long since accepted her uniqueness—it makes up a portion of what draws him to her, like a moth to a burning lamp in the dead of the night; it adds to her foreign beauty, of which their world only believes to be a figment of imagination.
Cana slides a filled glass towards him.
"Care to join me?"
Gladly, the blonde man accepts her offer. His graciousness and gratitude is heartfelt and implies more than it sounds when he responds with a breezy smile and a, "Of course." Laxus Dreyar sidles up, bulkily due to his large, muscular build, and finds himself a spot close to her, for she radiates a sense of home he hasn't felt since he was a babe.
Once he's settled, Cana raises her glass halfheartedly. "Cheers," she mumbles, staring off into the distance. Through her peripheral vision, she can see Laxus' eyes trained on her, and she is suddenly filled with a sense of security.
"Cheers," he replies after a moment, and mimics the gesture. "To what, though?"
"To a new year," Cana proposes with raised eyebrows and an artfully hidden smile.
Considering his options, Laxus agrees. "To that it is." As the clink of their glasses ring chimes in the air about them, he changes topics. "How long have we known each other?"
Cana resists the urge to say, "You have no idea," but instead resorts to another smirk. Her ears twitch playfully. "Why ask?" she manages. Her walls have been built up over the centuries, yet as he speaks, she can feel the bricks crumbling.
"Because," Laxus fishes out a cigarette from the depths of his coat layers, and holds another out. He flicks a lighter on as Cana accepts the offer, and she is intrigued by the flickering spark that dances between the borders of turbulence and order. Then the light is dead within a flick and the butt of the cigarette is alit with an orange glow. "We've known each other for so long. Each coming year isn't really anything to us anymore." Cana examines her cigarette for a second.
"Hmm." Her reply is short, and she focuses elsewhere.
Laxus notices her absentmindedness. "Hey, what's wrong?" he frowns, and Cana's tails curl tighter about her in a fanning motion, as if on instinct. Her ears flicker, and snowflakes settle daintily on her eyelashes. In the commotions behind them—everything dulls down to only the faintest noise, as the cacophonous roar of car engines far down in the streets below and the clamor of passersby hurrying to a candle-lit home—lies a dulled-down scene. Other background noises fade out, but Cana is adamant.
In the snow, she is but a stone statue, a symbol of serenity and an everlasting, unrequited love.
A symbol of that that flows in a never-ending cycle.
Cana sighs and her gaze flits to the horizon, where the moon hangs low and bright in the sky like a promise.
"It's nothing. I'm just wondering; what if we stop?" It is now that she turns to him, all residue of hope once in her eyes now gone elsewhere. Laxus attempts to swallow the lump forming in his throat. Hopelessness is one thing he can't stand; Cana's sadness is another. Both—not a question.
Gruffly, he shakes it off. It's nothing, he tells himself, nothing at all. Laxus shrugs to make his point, and flicks ashes off the tip of his cigarette. Smoke billows out and surges towards the heavens, while the black flecks cascade and dissolve into the pure white snow. One of her tails wave. "Well, ain't gonna happen," he asserts matter-of-factly. He turns then, and his eyes drill holes into her head. "Another year isn't a problem for us."
Of course; how could I have been so silly? Cana berates herself and stifles a sigh. Instead, a wan smile tickles her lips and she occupies herself with drinking. "Mhm," her reply is muffled. She pushes the glass as far away from herself as possible, feeling her blood rush to her face. "But the question is," she interjects, seeing Laxus' own distracted, faraway gaze, "what about you?"
Her face is young—it has remained so for all the years she has suffered through—and not a day older than any other lifetime in which she met this certain blonde.
"You tell me. You're the one who knows much, right?" Laxus says stiffly, but loosens up. "Come on, it's time for a new beginning."
The clinking of their glasses rings through the air this time.
"Perhaps." And Laxus is fine with her cryptic answers. Because just as Cana knows Laxus, Laxus knows Cana. And he knows that she means what she says, be it a mystery or not.
They sit in silence, in the falling snow. None of them say a word. The brunette enjoys it this way; in an evening of falling souls, they are at peace. She internally wishes that their lives would remain this way forever, but even she knows she is foolish for desiring such a thing.
Obviously, life is bound to cut their strings sooner or later.
After what seems like an eternity—and Cana knows how it truly feels, for that's how long she's lived—Laxus finally speaks. He removes the cigarette and shakes it over in the open air, and she watches steadily as more ashes rain down towards the pavements below.
"Cana, I need to tell you something." He avoids her gaze, instead focusing also on her object of observation.
"Okay," is all she says, and she thinks she's prepared for the worst. Praying for something even she doesn't know exists, her legs instinctively tuck in tighter towards her body.
"Mira and I," he swallows, and musters up the courage to look Cana dead in the eye, "we've decided to get back together."
Cana's throat is dry, and suddenly the snow seems to have drenched her in an ice cold shower, pelting her with stinging shots. But instead she smiles, again. "So," she begins, "I guess you'll be... moving out, huh?" Her laugh punctures the air, but it is melodious and deeper than the loveliness of a mountain stream. Laxus makes this analogy every time he hears that laugh, and he's heard it in several tones yet—sadness, happiness, you name it. Sometimes, when his mind is astray, he wonders if the mountains are where Cana came from.
Sadness is rare.
He grunts his assent, unwilling to speak another word. "I guess I will." Laxus shows her his left hand, on which the ring finger is adorned with another's band of precious metal. "I'll miss you, though."
Cana takes a stab at brightening the mood. She doesn't sit well with melancholy settings. "Heh, yeah. A lot of people do... But, say, seeing that it's almost midnight—" She makes it a point to direct a halfhearted glare in the blonde man's direction. "—shouldn't you be with your lovely girlfriend?" She drawls out the syllables in the last two words lazily, lolling her tongue with a playfulness unknown.
"No," Laxus states firmly. "I'd rather be with you."
"Even for midnight?"
"Even for midnight."
Cana wants to shake her head at him and call him the dastardly fool he is—that clod has no idea how much more that kills her inside.
But that's just how much I love you.
Cana can sense the final moments ticking away before she hears them.
She leans closer despite herself, despite the fact that the man sitting in front of her is taken and unavailable, in a sense, and that she has fallen into another maelstrom of useless emotions. Laxus does the same, and her heart skips a beat, yet she pulls on a straight face.
Teasingly, she says, "Then, what about your midnight kiss?"
Laxus raises an eyebrow, but does not retract or forbid himself from whatever-the-hell he's doing—he's already engaged, for goodness' sakes, why is he doing this—but the lovely brunette in front of him is as beautiful as the sky is blue, and ignites a fiery passion within him he doesn't understand. Incomprehensibly, he is suddenly drawn to her—
They are about to close when Laxus mutters deeply, "I'm sure as hell gonna regret this."
Cana's mouth slants against his smoothly, tenderly, a gesture they seem to have known in the bottom of their hearts, and her fingers reach up, gently, flitting against his defined jawline, while Laxus' hand brushes against a tail and it fervently wraps around his wrist. She yields under his grasp, but he is only with ease, his touch a mere brush for fear of breaking her like porcelain.
Their kiss only lasts a minute—he tastes like smoke from his cigarettes, albeit a benign smoke that she finds comfort in, and she is like the wildberries and dreams he dreams at night—but makes up for Cana's lost eternity.
The clock strikes midnight, and they share their first kiss on the roof of their drafty apartment, under the watchful gaze of the countless stars and boundless skies.
And together, they spend their first moments of the new year with only each other's company and forgotten sentimentality.
But why do you do this anyway?
Because that one embrace he shares with her is worth her waiting for another thousand years.
Because that one embrace is what shows her he truly loves her, and only her.
Not Mirajane, not anybody. Just her.
And she knows that, and it still fails to cease the way it tears her apart inside because she knows it'll never happen again.
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{five lifetimes won't be a problem}
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I might write a second chapter. I don't know... It seems incomplete. Anyway, happy new year! Please tell me what you think. x