note: this is for momocicerone who roped me into this black hole and shares my love for any type of lowkey bora/juvia angst. i also p much lost juice to finish this so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
will you still love me tomorrow
by mirajens
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Indomitable was a word that Juvia Lockser heard very often.
It slipped from her mother's lips and into her ears before bedtime when the older woman was brushing her daughter's hair, reprimanding her that the way she acted was not suited to a lady of her status and will you please stop squirming, Juvia? It resonated in the kitchen where her father shook his head at her, disappointment at everything she did so palpable (she remembered the relief in those same eyes when she announced she was going to a college far, far away). It was in the hearts of boys of all ages; they look at her in that awe-struck way and they wonder if she was as much of an adventure as she looked, but Juvia never told, never affirmed: a constant tease but never within grasp. It was in the eyes of girls, blending seamlessly with envy for the woman who never gave a shit, never lived for anyone but herself.
She was a force, a magnificent hurricane girl, leaving in her wake destruction and the smell of roses and you're gonna wish you never fucking met me. She was trouble of the first water, best avoided but a flame to moths.
They said the apocalypse was beautiful, didn't they?
She chanced upon the scene as if in some ironic twist. It played out like this: Gray Surge on what seemed to be a date on the shits with some bottle blonde with tits bigger than her plate. Blondie looked like something out of Maneater music video in her tight pink tube dress that looked more like sausage casing than clothing and zebra print shoes that seemed like they belonged to some teenage girl on a recent Iggy Azalea binge trip. Speaking of aforementioned gaudy high heels, the pair were discarded on the floor, the legs that used to wear them at much more liberty now to do as they pleased. And that they did; one of the delicate feet was on a slow trek up the inside of Gray's own legs, making that slow crawl to the prize that sat in his crotch in what she probably assumed was some seductive touch. The very idea was enough to put some odd irritation in Juvia and she had a moment to tell herself that she was not jealous that wimpy Gray Surge went on a date with Yakuza princess here. No, Juvia was just appalled at this girl's gall. Footsies on the first date?
Only heaven knew what power made Juvia storm inside the posh restaurant, on a quest now to drag Surge's sorry ass out of trouble because she was such a good friend, albeit a reluctant one. Steadfastly, she ignored the caw of the maitre d' ( "madam, sil vous plait, we do not accept walk ins; do you have reservations, madam?") and the baffled stare of the diners and staff. She did look out of place in a fancy French restaurant in her open side tank top and studded mini skirt. The combat boots probably repulsed their delicate sensibilities as well. Juvia fed on this contempt and soldiered on to Gray's table. She never did care what others thought of her.
Some five feet away from his table Gray sensed Juvia before he saw her. He felt a malignant stare follow him, and seeing that he'd only felt it from one (beautiful, amazing, perfect) person before, he immediately assumed it was his Juvia-chan.
And how right he was! There was the love of his life (and admittedly, the woman to blame for this farce of a date) looking like an avenging angel making a beeline to his table. While his heart pounded in his chest, he contemplated what the cause for it was. Could it be because Juvia looked ready to rip out his genitals and make him eat it? Maybe because she looked so pretty and edgy as she bulldozed past the waif-like staff to get to him?
Probably the latter.
Man, he really had it bad.
When Juvia stopped by the table, absolutely fuming, his date finally stopped her running monologue about her mother pestering her to find a rich husband already and turned to look at the new arrival.
He made to greet her with the hearts in his eyes he couldn't help. "Ah, hello Juvia-ch—"
"How could you!" Was the very first thing out of her lips, coming out in a dramatic wail that carried over the the high domed restaurant. Suddenly, her hands were at the collar of his dress shirt, dragging him up to a standing position so they were face to face.
"Play along, Juvia is busting you out." She told him, sotto voce. Then, the myriad of negativity swam back in her eyes, frightening him with its intensity.
"Juvia can't believe she finds you here cheating on her with this HIGH SCHOOL STUDENT while Juvia waits for you to come home to her and our baby!"
Gray flushed puce at her insinuations, corrections bubbling up to his lips. Maki-san, his date, was not a high school student. She was from Mirajane's dance troupe and Juvia would know this if she acted a decent friend and actually supported Mira's performances. The rest of the oppositions died in his throat ("Sadly, we're not together at all and we do not share a home nor do we have an infant child.") upon remembering that Juvia was trying to get him out of here, despite her rather botched attempt at making excuses.
Gray held his hands up with the palms out in a gesture of surrender and he hoped the expression on his face made him look like a cheating partner caught by his scorned baby mama on dates with other women in some regularity. This gesture was shortly followed by Juvia's own palm connecting with his cheek with enough force for his head to snap back.
Jeez. She could stand to tone it down a bit, seeing as she was just putting on an act.
"Juvia can't believe this!" Juvia yelled again, incensed. The den of diners all stared now, a few releasing scandalized gasps at the drama unfolding and murmurs filling the air.
The small hand that gripped his collar moved down to tangle in his neck die, a more effective leash. "Juvia is sorry for all the trouble. Juvia will be taking him home. He'll get the check on the way out!" This was said with a softer tone to the date, who looked stunned in her chair. "Bye!" Juvia waved before dragging Gray out by the tie, not minding his sputtering or his violent blush.
"Do your thing. Juvia will be outside." Juvia said before leaving him at the front desk with the receptionist who looked just about ready to pass out from the scene. Hastily, Gray paid the bill and apologized profusely for his "girlfriend" and the trouble.
The walk to his apartment was uneventful, to say the least. That was, as uneventful as time spent with Gray Surge could ever be. They guy just never stopped talking. Holy shit, he never knew when to shut up. He just kept going off on tangents, babbling about their classes she missed, the new car he and his best friend were working on, the freshman who began occupying her almost always empty seat at the lecture hall, how pretty she looked in her Trivium shirt even when she draped the dinner jacket he offered her over it, how their friends missed her, how he missed her….
Jesus.
Juvia said nothing. Even as the unholy urge to sock him in the mouth just to shut him up overtook her, she kept her fists clenched at her sides and her lips pressed together so hard she could taste the lead of her lipstick. No matter how many times she was subjected to Surge's tittering, she could never get used to it, could never appreciate the mile an hour nonsense her spouted. She liked her men quiet. Actually, she liked her men beefy, with no opinions and preferably with the stamina of a rabbit in heat. With this in mind, she spared Gray a subtle glance (though not as if she hadn't seen in all before, because trust her, she had).
Surge had a good profile, she'd admit to that. Tall enough but lanky where Juvia liked more meat. His hair was a mess but she liked mess, especially in him. She's had many doubts about just how human Gray Surge really was because he just did everything with a precision and ease that she resented and envied on equal level, one that seemed more fitting to a robot than a human, but if a guy couldn't comb his hair down, he must not be that perfect. His clothes fit well, and she might like her men rugged and just a little unclean but what female attracted to men could resist one all tidy in a suit?
"Surge," she cut him off mid-speech before she could lose hold of her thoughts. "Just shut up, okay? You don't need to talk so much."
His face didn't fall like she expected it to, but the mirth on his face intensified, making some unidentifiable emotion flutter in her gut. At this point, she knew him well enough to know that he was pleased because she was actually paying attention to him as opposed to tuning him out like she normally would.
Jesus. He had it bad.
This was something else she didn't understand. Gray Surge loved her, and this was probably the only thing in her life she was certain of. What fucked him up so much that his heart beat for some wretched garbage like her? Or maybe he was just like that queue of men who liked a girl with spunk and glorified her for her non-conformance to society. Maybe he saw a challenge. Maybe he saw someone to save. Fuck if she knew. She didn't care for the answer much and she didn't like to think of this fucked up limbo with Gray. It was confusing. She didn't like being confused.
They reached his apartment, a usual point of rendezvous since her own was off limits. Bora never liked when Juvia bought over friends that didn't have tits he could stare at.
Once inside, she kicked her shoes off tossed his jacket on the dining table.
"Tea, Juvia-chan?" he called out to her as she made her way to his sofa. She responded with an absent affirmative, resisted the urge to ask for something stronger, like with an alcohol proof strong enough to knock her out. It had been a rough night and she could still hear Bora's words ringing in her ears, could still feel how she forced her own shouts through her mouth, anything to hurt back.
She fell on the couch face down, appreciating the thing of beauty she'd helped Gray buy off a flea market just a few months ago. It was large, soft and cool; much more comfortable than any bed she's been on. She'd wanted it for herself, but she didn't need two sofas.
"Here, Juvia-chan."
She looked up to see Gray holding out a cup to her, looking like a human incarnation of a labrador puppy. Jesus. She took the tea with a murmur of thanks, moved over so he could sit beside her. He was her oldest friend. They've only known each other for two years, but Juvia never kept a friendship that spanned that long. In fact, she didnt think she had any real friends that lasted longer than she could bum a smoke from them.
But Gray, he was different. He cared so much about her no matter how much she tried to push him away, no matter how badly she treated him. He stayed. That was amazing in itself, since no one made that much of an effort to put up with her. No one ever made friends with damaged goods long enough. No one had the patience to put up with fluctuating moods and long absences. No one wanted to be friends if they didn't see each other at least five times a week.
Just a little bit miserable (and admittedly guilty about embodying every Bad Friend trope), Juvia dropped her head on Gray's lap, maneuvering her body until she was comfortably strewn across him with the tea secure above her stomach.
"Why couldn't Juvia have fallen in love with you instead?"
The words out of her lips were startling and it felt not unlike a lance straight through the heart for Gray Surge, who pined, who loved, who cared. Juvia had never seen him in the way he wanted her to, and that was fine. Gray never asked people for more than they could give. He never made anyone stay if they didn't want to. He was background noise, he was safety, he was the home they all took for granted.
Still, he wished she would make it easier on herself and be with him. He would treat her right, and he'd never let her go to bed feeling like no one loved her. But she'd made her choice and every night when she went back to Bora, she continued to make that choice over and over again.
Which was fine. If that was what she wanted, he respected that.
He had a lot to say to her in this regard, but none he could tell with his meager bravado.
(That that he'd been waiting his whole life for someone like her, that he'd always loved her, that she deserved better, that she was wasted on the man she chose every time, that she could be happy)
He never said a word when conversations went this way. It wasn't his place and Juvia could make her own decisions.
Her voice picked up again, and it surprised him she wanted to talk about this some more. She never did. "You take care of Juvia and you're still her friend after all this time. Its fucking confusing, but its concrete. Juvia doesn't get how you stay or how you can stand Juvia at all." her eyes flickered up to meet his gaze trained upon her face, and the silly little smile that played on her lips sent his pulse racing, his heartbeat a maddening staccato. "But Juvia appreciates it. Juvia never knew she needed a friend until you came along."
The admission tugged at his heartstrings, but it was times like this he forgot his longing for her and was content in the friendship she gave him. He'd take anything he could get; he wasn't choosy with the love he received.
"I'm here anyway. I'm not going anywhere as long as you'll have me."