I.
(you're sick of feeling numb, you're not the only one)
It was an honest mistake. A simple error in judgment.
Just a little too much alcohol and a couple words directed at the wrong individual.
It wasn't typical of Lucy to slip up so much, but she was lost in somber silence and her vision was gradually growing fuzzy around the edges.
Nothing about the whole situation meant anything to either parties. They both just needed some comfort and in their drunken state, a few brazen touches seemed to suffice. A small, genuine comfort for both pained souls that quickly ran out of tears.
His hand was painfully attached to the overflowing skin of her breast and his nose buried into the wiry hair between her legs.
In her muddled state, she decided she liked the contrast between the dark hair on top of his head and the light dusting of hers above her second pair of lips.
His mouth felt heavenly on her neglected skin, creating a long-missed wave of pleasure, burning a fire in her lower abdomen.. Her fingers felt cramped lodged in the black tresses of his hair.
When his throaty moan vibrated the expanse of her pelvis, she shuddered voilently.
Something about the way his mouth was on her so intimately and the way the rest of him fit, felt wrong. But, as her consciousness drifted and the pangs of lust-akin to that of hunger-ravaged her body, she ignored the feeling.
His dark eyes found hers in the dim light, a hazy lust branded into the pupils. Everything about this man made her shiver; his skin felt icy against hers.
She found herself whispering his name.
"Gray."
She liked the way his name rolled off her tongue, but it just wasn't right, as if it was the wrong name. When the right name came to mind, her eyes squeezed shut painfully and her hips bucked into his mouth a little too roughly as her thighs clenched his head tightly. She willed her body to rule her senses and cloud the fresh melancholy clawing at her.
Time passed quickly in her mind as she watched his lips leave her inner flesh to climb back up to her burning mouth. He tasted like alcohol and the musky taste of her lower regions. It was a taste she had grown rather used to.
His left hand crumpled the sheets above her head as his right hand brought himself closer.
She felt his pressing hardness stroke the inner flesh of her pelvis and she couldn't help creating some of her own delicious friction.
Some small voice in her head screamed that this was wrong, but she didn't have the time or effort to stop it.
When he finally entered her she gasped. His hard lines against her soft edges fit almost perfectly, but something else did not seem to fit and she wasn't sure what.
Nothing convinced her to stop, so she didn't. Not even when after the prolonged thrusts and gasps had made him spill inside of her.
He didn't remove himself and she found herself barely minding.
As his arms haphazardly wrapped around her figure and he swiftly fell asleep, the only solid thought pulsing at her mind was that she was freezing, and she desperately needed someone to warm her up.
Then blessed sleep drowned her body.
None of this was meant to happen. She didn't mean to get drunk. She didn't mean to have sex with Gray. She didn't mean to get pregnant.
There was always this nagging feeling that she was doing something bad, something she knew would only cause her more pain.
She rarely felt any warmth besides those of Grays comforting touches, but it was never enough.
Summer was never warm enough. She could wear that damn scarf through the whole season and barely break a sweat. She wondered if it was magical.
Sometimes, after coming home from work to scoop up little Silver in his arms, his eyes would trail to Lucy and get caught on that white piece of fabric.
She had never said anything, but it was evident. Gray could never be first in her heart, even over a dead man.
Late at night when he would pull her in his arms, her tears would soak his shirt and eventually his naked skin. The only words she could say were repeated apologies.
The name hung over their heads like a bursting storm, unspoken and silent in its grave.
When heated fights came, that one name would shred her heart to pieces.
He would gather her up in his arms then, sorry for more than he dared say.
He wasn't him, but he was enough. He could deal with that.
Perhaps it had been poor judgment from the start. Everything she had ever wanted from her childhood fantasies, she had, but she always felt hollow.
Her eyes would occasionally catch on the fading sunlight and she'd murmur a few words at the stone marker at her feet. A fleeting smile would overcome her features.
Lucy Heartfilia would live the rest of her life without Natsu Dragneel, but she couldn't regret it.
After years of tear-stained cheeks, she finally stared at that tombstone for hopefully the last time.
As she shifted the weight on her feet, she bent over and placed the worn, scale-patterned fabric underneath the carved out words. The same words she had so carefully memorized and safeguarded for forty years.
Natsu Dragneel
Loving Husband
"It's always more fun when we're together."
She turned to look at the horizon once more before returning to the voice calling her name.
The arms wrapped around her weren't warm, but they loved her just the same.
And she wasn't alone.
I am such a Gruvia fan I don't even know why I wrote this. If I really think about it, I could actually consider Graylu because they're both such good characters and though Lucy's bond with Gray is not the same as with Natsu, it's still a pretty close relationship. The attraction is obviously there(after Gemini proved that Gray thought so), but that's pretty much as far as that goes.
Like Lucy feels in this fic, the whole Graylu thing feels so wrong but so right at the same time.
Still, I'm a die-hard Nalu fan. Also Gruvia is practically canon anyway.
I hope I didn't dissapoint anyone because the Nalu is still here. It's not any more of a Graylu fic than it is a Nalu one.
I really enjoyed writing this and I hope you will enjoy reading it.
If so, please feel free to Review/Favorite/Follow.
~Brannasaurus Rex