So I realize that Anna Heartfilia isn't even included in the character tags yet. Lol, I'll fix the tagging for this later.
Fairy Tail fandom, I love you and all, but when I think of more than 5 potential Annalogia drabbles in less than 10 minutes, it's a problem. Regardless, I've finally given in. These are all super experimental and super undeveloped.
I haven't thought really deeply yet; I'm just word vomiting right now lololol.
x377
She's scared. He thinks it's him.
Her voice is so well-tucked under her breath that when he first hears her words, he wonders if it's all his imagination.
"I can feel it," she murmurs, her lips grazing over the slope of his neck. Her tongue lazily trails over his skin as she lifts her mouth upwards to his lips, where she settles.
"I can taste it," she breathes, warm exhale ghosting on his face. She kisses him sweet and gentle, in the same way that she has been for the past many months—as if she's stretching out every fraction of a second with all the magic she can.
"I can hear its heart beating inside you," she whispers, her hands soft and running over his war-callused chest. Her fingertips follow his collarbones and met at his sternum, stopping at the five-year-old scar tissue, right over where the lacrima lies under his muscle and bone.
"What?" he asks.
He doesn't want to stop this moment, these now rare times when they are alone and she is pressed close against his body, reunited with his renegade soul, but he pulls her hips off his lap.
She's been avoiding him for weeks. She still hasn't explained why she looks at him with sad eyes.
"What are you talking about?" he repeats.
"The dragon," she replies, hushed, as if she's afraid she'll awaken it from inside him.
He tries to catch her eyes but she's like water slipping through the cracks in his hand. He can't hold her no matter how tight he squeezes his fingers and she just leaves him with cold memories of her stuck on his skin.
"Are you scared of me?" he asks.
"No," she says. Her voice doesn't waver. She shakes her head.
He rephrases. "Are you scared of what's been placed inside of me?"
"No." This time her serene expression begins to crack. It starts with her furrowed eyebrows.
"Then what are you scared of?"
"I'm not scared of anything."
But when she doesn't answer any of his other questions and just kisses him goodbye in a way locks time, closes doors, ends lives, he knows she's lying.
thir13enth