notes: honestly don't know what this is. call it experimental.
this does contain implied affairs, so if you're not particularly fond of that, i probably wouldn't read this.
Under the smile of a yellow moon tucked between two ghost-pale clouds and within an ocean of fading stars, they lie in each other's arms and remind themselves that they have always been bad at lying.
Except for that one time when she told him that Gray had asked her out—and then again and again and again—and he never told her that he hated how Gray was taking her time and that he hated that he never could now never just hang out with Erza alone without the possessive frat boy's arm around her shoulders.
Except for that one time when he asked if she thought it a good idea to have a double date—"Just you and Gray, and me and Ultear"—and she said yes, but found her teeth clenching hard whenever couple on the other side of the table exchanged laughs and giggles.
Except for that one time when he told her he had a fiancée and she thought he was joking but then she got the wedding invitation in her mail the next month—and then after shredding that, she saw the photos and could not get the white of Ultear's dress and the flush of his cheeks out of her mind.
Except for that one time when she asked if he would come to her baby shower and he said yes and brought gifts for her—and not her husband or their future—and then extended his hand to Gray and stiffly told the lucky man, "Congratulations."
They've always been bad at lying to each other, and they've always known they've been bad at lying to each other—so tonight when she asks him if he loves her, he hesitates because he knows that seven years is much too long of a time to hold a not-so-secret secret.
"No," he replies.
After all, what's love? Something between broken families and pop songs. Something that turned from childish jokes and immature teasing into relentless stomach butterflies and all-too-real heart break. Something that probably happened—early, when the worst of his worries had been who was getting onto the swings first during recess—and he only now knows—late, when the best of his days is when he can go right straight to bed after work without a single argument with Ultear—exists.
Love is certainly all these things but love is also something that certainly didn't end with marriage.
"Admit it. You love me," she repeats.
His eyes turn toward hers and while the silence lingers between them, his gaze drops to her lips.
"Just one kiss," he says.
"Just one kiss," she agrees.
But then one kiss turns into one night and one night turns into two lies and two lies turn into a web of secrets that end with both of them tangled in each other's arms when no one else is looking and more than enough regrets for what never happened and what chaos will inevitably come.
blehhhhhhhh. half of this probably doesn't even make sense.
thir13enth
