"You're drenched," she gasped, wrapping the towel around and over his head. The door slammed backwards and Jellal trembled to his knees onto the foyer. Erza knelt, ran her fingers underneath his jaw and pressed her palms to his wet cheeks. Jellal breathed a small apology that she pretended not to hear. She forced the cloak off his shoulders and it sloshed into a heavy, dark clump behind him.

Jellal looked up with droplets in his eyelashes. Erza shook her head.

The clatter of rain shuttled between each corner of the house. When he came down the stairs after his bath, everything was dark except for the kitchen. The puddle at the entrance was gone. The tea kettle whistled sharply from a distance but he almost didn't hear the hum of the laundry room. He didn't approach as quietly as he could've, but she didn't turn in his direction anyways. Erza acknowledged his presence by bundling her hair to one side of her neck and transferring the kettle to the counter, where she had two mugs laid out.

"Can we talk?"

"Not now."

"Erza."

Her shoulders lifted. "Not…"

"…"

"…now," she finished. Her shoulders dropped back down.

"We will," she said. "Just, please...sit down. I'll bring the tea over."

"Let me help you."

"Jellal."

Erza's hands moved apart and flattened over the counter top in frustration. He still didn't want to leave her alone. Thin strips of steam went above her. After a moment, Erza nodded.

"Okay. Okay."

Erza readjusted her robe before following him to their sofa, watching him carefully. Jellal handled the mugs of hot tea with a patience that she wished she still had for him. He held out her strawberry printed mug and she grasped it gently, giving him a small smile out of instinct. Goosebumps spread over her calves as she sat down. The cushions were cold from disuse and the influence of winter. Almost offensively, the fireplace stood idle before them.

Jellal was only mildly surprised at her silence when he perched on the floor and slowly tossed wood into the hearth. His right knee throbbed, and the stitched parts of his torso that ran up his side grated against their fresh bandages. He tried to sit in a way that wouldn't make her uncomfortable, but he could smell her thick unease in the jasmine leaves at the bottom of their mugs and hear it in the deluge forming beyond the walls.

It was the breath of the fireplace that saved them.

The flames licked their brick shelter with a spirit that drowned the outside. He thought that if he closed his eyes, he could completely erase the sound of cold, cold falling water filling up and flowing from the gutter, crackling down and reflecting off their porch. And that perhaps, if Erza could close her own eyes, she might also forget the rain dripping from his hair—

Jellal glanced over his shoulder.

Sometimes, it was the sun; other times, it was another kind of fire that filled her eyes. Tonight, the light from the fireplace stopped at her lap, and Erza looked down at him with droplets in her eyelashes.

He came back to the sofa, took the mug from her hands, and sighed. His cheeks burned beneath her hands.

One month ago, the capital had requested aid for an investigation revolving around the burgeoning of dark organizations in their northern mountains. It was a dangerously vague mission. Jellal had spent a week in contemplation and Erza was there when he accepted the commission.

The guild he belonged to wanted to impress people, Jellal explained with a grimace. He didn't hide himself. He wore their insignia with pride and I followed him. The middle-aged man they sent him to detain possessed a potent type of magic that made Erza recoil. Jellal called the entire arrest messy. He'd decided to make an early homecoming in the middle of a brewing storm with a threat over his head and what he had the audacity to call souvenirs.

"I didn't want to stay. I gave up the information I had on the other members and let the troops handle the rest."

"What did he say to you?"

"…"

"Jellal!"

"I won't answer that."

"Why?"

He still didn't answer. Eventually he didn't need to. Erza stared speechlessly before burying her face into her palms.

"You're so goddamn reckless," she cried. "I was safe, Jellal. Why didn't you just call me?"

"Because, Erza, the bastard broke my phone. What was I supposed to do?"

"But—"

"What would you have done?"

Although Jellal knew the question was unanswerable and, to that end, unfair, he didn't need her to speak. Over the past year, their love did change. He didn't want them to be afraid of what that meant anymore. As he thought about the weeks that had gone by, Erza's fingers curled around his forearms painfully. It was the most honest answer she could have given.

He'd abandoned most of his fears when she met him at the front door and let them drip from the silver piping of his old cloak. What remained settled into dormancy, as it liked to do. But Erza handled herself differently and crumpled forward with a head heavier than his, touching his chest with her forehead. Her tears dripped onto his lap freely and her grip lost much of itself. Overwhelmed, Jellal fell in the same manner and whispered another apology into her scalp.

"I was terrified," she said.

"Yeah. Me too."

"Don't stop," he murmured. "It's okay. I'm okay."

With a loud moan, Erza clung to his shoulders and rocked against his hips. Jellal leaned back into the cushions, kissed her breasts, bit and groaned hoarsely into the uneven lapel of her robe before pulling it all the way off her body. She kissed him softly before fucking him at the pace they both wanted.

"Jellal. Jellal."

Erza closed her eyes and the sound of the rain disappeared entirely. His hands floated down her sides and she welcomed the feeling of his nails digging into her waist.

Although the fire had gone out, the air in the living room was still warm.

Underneath the blanket, Erza ran her fingers across his right knee. Jellal smiled and quickly took her hand into his.

"Does it still hurt?"

"No."

"Was my hand cold?"

"No, it was fine."

"...Okay."

She pressed her ear to his chest, and he caressed her hair.

The rain echoed throughout the house and lulled them to sleep.

Note:

I don't consider this my best work, but in my frustration of trying to write the first chapter of X794, I had to spend my time with another idea (one that I didn't plan out at all) and relearn how to build a story from moment to moment. Sometimes writing just doesn't go the way you want and you have to learn to accept that and take your time. Don't let it discourage you. The smut would have been longer but I'm busy with university. There's smut regardless because I'm 18 and horny. Thanks for reading.