All of my contributions to Jerza week are going here.
That means an update every day! Or so I hope.
Disclaimer: Fairy Tail does not belong to me.
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One. Achilles' Heel
"Hope deferred makes the heart sick, but a longing fulfilled is a tree of life."
- Proverbs 13:12
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Their second kiss is a moment of weakness.
It is better than the first. Sudden. Spontaneous. Natural.
Erza feels like she is sinking and she does not want to be rescued. She does not deserve to be. Neither of them do. Between them lies plenty of skeletons half-buried and taking up residency in their hearts, too many scars that promise to never fade, and an eternal banquet of regret served on delicate paper plates.
She had crawled over to him, ignoring the sound of dragons in the distance, and brushed back the messy locks of hair obscuring his face to see his green green eyes that remind her of spring and life. They will her to live, urge her to escape the bones' choke-hold.
Erza touched his cheek; her thumb brushing over bloody skin, her fingers running along his jaw. Her other hand curled into the hairs at the nape of his neck. She watched him rest his forehead tiredly against her; she saw long, dark eyelashes close rather like curtains.
Everyone else is gone, so they take a chance.
When their lips meet and she pulls even closer, nothing else matters but bravery and nerve.
He tastes like sorrow and guilt, but it grows into fearlessness and sin as he becomes more passionate and ardent against her mouth. Their hearts bleed together as she rises up onto her knees and his arms latch around her body.
She has never been so close to another human being. It wouldn't feel right if it was not him. It has to be him. It's always been him. Will be him.
Dangerous and disasters.
Heaven cries while hell sings. Both the sinner, together a saint.
Always.
It slows, and she smiles against his bruising lips. Tongues graceful, pressure fading. Erza sighs softly, holding onto his shoulders while his hand runs tantalisingly gentle down her back. Her long fingers press into his clothes, their sensation piercing the skin beneath.
But he is like dirty water.
He slips away through her fingers, eyes wide and ears red and gasping for breath, so very quickly.
Notes: This is very short. I don't like that.
Blame field trips. And sulking over not being able to go to London Expo because of those field trips.
But I survived my first year at uni! Yay!