~starfrost essence~

Thank you for this day, for this moment.

The chatter of the guild is mere background noise as she watches Gray thumb through the stack of slightly crinkled papers. His brow is furrowed with the same expression of concentration that she sees in battle, and Lucy won't deny it sends a shiver of joy through her, that Gray would devote just as much attention to this silly little work of hers.

"Well?" she asks, tipping her head into her outstretched palm. "What do you think?" It's not the novel she's been working on, the one that everyone seems so intent on reading for some reason, but she figures that Gray might enjoy it with the way that he annoyingly sneaks into her desk without permission. And perhaps he'll stop doing so if she gives him something else to look at.

"Mm." The noncommittal sound he makes doesn't exactly inspire confidence, but Lucy has a suspicion he didn't hear her at all, lost completely in the immersion of reading. She sighs in exasperation, letting her eyes wander to the way Gray's finger is tapping a steady rhythm onto the table.

He flips a paper over and Lucy tenses. She knows every line of every paragraph of every page, and that particular page was one she had agonized over for ages; writing and rewriting and erasing and rewriting that scene over and over again. Frustration that Lucy can barely contain even now is embedded in every letter of the scene, and it's so blatantly obvious that she's sure Gray will make some comment about it.

The rhythm of tapping slows, and then speeds up. Sensing the telltale, yet miniscule spike of magic and burst of cold air at her elbow, Lucy looks down with surprise to find a little figure of ice standing on the table. She picks it up with great care, arching her eyebrow in confusion. There's no doubt about it; the figure is that of the princess in her short story, carved completely and with meticulous detail from clear blue ice. There are even fine, delicate designs swirling all over the solid dress, and the facial features seem so realistic that she wouldn't be surprised if the figure starts walking and talking. They also seem a little familiar, but Lucy chalks it up to coincidence.

It's a breathtaking creation, and much too beautiful to be reckless with. Lucy sets it back down carefully and glances to Gray, who doesn't even seem to have noticed what he just did. "Gray?" she calls, tugging gently at his sleeve. "Hello, anyone there? What are you doing?"

"What…?" he replies vaguely, and his eyes stay rigidly fixed on the words written on the paper. Lucy gives up eventually when he practically ignores her after that. It's like talking to a wall. Or a block of ice, she thinks amusedly.

Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.

There it is again. Lucy watches in wonder as another figure springs to life at Gray's fingertips. It's one thing visualizing the story in her head when she writes, but seeing the characters, her characters, replicated in three dimensions is an experience unlike any other. And Gray's ice magic is perfect for it.

The figure this time is a valiant looking knight holding a slim sword. It is only ice, but a sense of justice and chivalry radiates from it, as silly as that sounds. The detail is so fine that Lucy can see where individual plates of armor connect to one another, and the knight's long, frozen hair nevertheless has the illusion of flowing in a nonexistent wind. Erza immediately comes to mind, and Lucy won't deny that she'd had the scarlet-haired mage in her thoughts when she created the character, but surely it can't mean anything.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptap.

And once more. It's the dragon now, with every individual crystallized scale patterned over its sleek body and fine-spun wings that look ready to take flight at any moment. Lucy can't help but think that if the dragon had color, it would be a vibrant red because Gray's soothing blue doesn't suit it. The open jaws spitting out a plume of icy fire do give credit to the dragon's ferocity though.

Tap. Tap. Tap. Taptaptaptaptaptap…

Again, and again, and again, Lucy watches the tabletop fill up with ice figures both large and small, sometimes laughing at the expressions their faces end up frozen in, sometimes in awe at the striking dynamic poses. She may have written the story, but it's Gray who is giving her words life, all with the simple tap of a finger and a little touch of magic. And all the while, he's just sitting there in complete obliviousness to Lucy's newfound admiration for how truly free his ice magic is. She thinks he should at least appreciate that.

But… It's really beautiful.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

…

At last, Gray sets the last paper down and stretches. "Finally done. You called that short, Lucy?"

"Mmhm. Good job on finishing it."

"Ah- thanks? And… What are you doing?"

It's Gray's turn to look confused as he finally registers what Lucy is doing and what's in front of him. "…Huh?"

"You can really tune people out when you get into something," Lucy complains, but flashes a quick, dazzling smile that momentarily makes him go breathless. "I didn't even know you could do something like this."

Gray sweeps a slow gaze over his field of little ice creations, staring, realizes, and suddenly slumps back in his chair, covering his face with his hand. "Aw man, I did it again."

Lucy finishes grouping the figures together, tilting her head up at him. "You've done this before?" She can just make out his slight nod, and notices a light flush crawling up his neck. "They're so cute!" she exclaims with a laugh.

"No, shut up. It's embarrassing," he grumbles, sliding his hand away just enough for a single dark eye to glare at her. "It's a thing I did when I was a kid. I thought I'd grown out of it already."

"It's nothing to be embarrassed about! I'm really impressed with the detail too!" She holds up the first figure, the princess, running a finger lightly along the carved crown and hair lines. "Do you do this for everything you read?"

"No! Can you imagine how annoying that'd be? It only just… happens for stuff I end up really liking."

His words are blurted out as casually as if he'd only mentioned the weather, but Lucy feels her heart rate suddenly speed up, pounding in her chest, and a fuzzy sort of warmth creeping over her. "Do you really mean that?" she asks, leaning forward with wide eyes that are practically sparkling. "You liked it? You really liked it?" Gray blinks at the very close proximity their noses are to each other, but he can't quite bring himself to look away.

"Yeah, it was great." A small smirk turns up the edges of his lips. "So does that mean you'll let me read your novel?"

The adoring look vanishes in an instant. "Absolutely not!" she snaps, pouting. "But maybe… I can make you the second reader," Lucy adds with a wink.

He can't breathe again.

You have no idea what you do to me.

"S-Sure," Gray mumbles, ducking his head. "Second is fine."

"But! You have to make these again." She gestures at the tableful of ice figures. "I think I've gotten some inspiration just from looking at them."

"But I didn't make them on purpose," he protests, cringing at his work. He deals with weapons and tools and objects of pragmatism, not… fancy, childish little toys.

"Then I'm afraid you won't be reading my novel for a long time," Lucy says primly, the smug look that both annoys him and stuns him on her face. "By the way," she continues, steamrolling right over any other objections, "You missed one."

"One what?"

Lucy points to the handful of figures she's set aside: the princess, the knight, the dragon, and a little ice cat. "You made all the main characters except the prince. Isn't that weird?"

Gray rubs the back of his neck, puzzled. "Prince…? Oh, that character. I didn't like him."

"He's a main character! How can you not like him?"

"Hey, I'm allowed to dislike whoever, aren't I?"

She crosses her arms stubbornly. "Come on, you can't just leave one out of a complete set. I want to see what you think the prince would look like."

"You're way too into this." Nevertheless, Gray sighs and presses his fist against his other hand, a cool, relaxing breeze blowing into their faces as his magic sparks once more. When he lifts his hand away, there is one last figure sitting neatly on his palm. "There, happy?"

"Mm!" Lucy reaches over to take it, brushing her hand as lightly as a feather across his. Gray's hand gives an involuntary shudder at the contact and he fumbles just before Lucy can get a grip on the figure. Suddenly, it is falling, falling, and landing on the ground with an ominously high ringing sound.

"Oh no!" she gasps, scooping the ice figure up along with several other pieces. An unexplainable fear shoots through her at the sight of the chipped figure with the broken off leg. Lucy places it carefully on the table, grimacing at the water droplets beginning to collect in a small puddle underneath the figure.

"My bad," Gray mutters. "I'll make anot-"

"Fix him."

"Wha-"

"Fix him. Please." Lucy turns a pleading gaze on him, and Gray feels what little resolve he has melting away already.

"A new one would be easier to make. And it'd look better."

"No, fix him. You have to," she insists, pulling his wrist. "Please. I don't care about how he looks. No one's perfect."

Somehow, he has the feeling she's not talking about the figure anymore. But he can't quite understand what exactly Lucy is talking about either. "Fine, fine."

A short while later, Gray sets the repaired ice figure down on the table. Lucy immediately moves it to join the cluster from earlier, making room for the unfortunate prince among the other 'main characters'. She gives it a gentle pat on the head, and Gray rolls his eyes.

"You know," Lucy says suddenly, softly. "I think we've made something wonderful here."

Gray furrows an eyebrow. "What's with you all of a sudden?"

"Getting to see my story like this, it means a lot to me. You've made the whole world of the story for everyone to see." She faces him now, and there is that look on her face. The look that must have some sort of magic charm in it because always, always, words start choking up in his throat and it hurts to swallow and every little thing begins to speed up at a pace he can't keep up with.

That look is dangerous.

"So, thank you!" Lucy finishes with a bright smile, and Gray notices the curve of her lips, the way her eyes crinkle up just so, the strands of gold that flutter to one side when she tilts her head.

"…Any time."

If something so annoying, so simple, so insignificant can make her so happy, he supposes it's not that hard to bring an entire universe to her fingertips.

…

She's not sure what kind of expressions should be appropriate for the ice figures that are slowly melting on the table, but the ones on the prince and princess are definitely smiling.

A/N: Hahaa, what is this… I couldn't stand the thought of having written something for Gruvia week yet nothing for Graylu week, but it ended up being a little late anyway. Whoops.

I'm… not sure what this is supposed to be, honestly. It doesn't really even have romance in it… More like trying to show "the intrinsic nature or indispensable quality of something" that is Gray and Lucy's super cute friendship? (What is this attempt to make my title relevant…) I swear I'll write something better for my OTP someday, they deserve it. But happy shipping!