"We used to look out at the ocean like this, remember?"

Jellal looked out at the water, eyes following the waves towards shore until they became thin trails of water that splashed around Erza's toes. He didn't remember having seen that before.

He swallowed. "My memory is a little different."

"Really?" Erza spun on her toes to face him, plain white dress twirling. "But I know we did. We'd find a section of the tower where they hadn't put up walls yet and we'd look out at the water."

And they'd talk. Jellal smiled for her, because she wanted him to smile. "Did we?"

"Do you remember what we'd talk about?"

"The horizon?"

Erza pursed her lips. "You do."

"I might." But that didn't mean he'd talk about it again. It was all childish anyway, the things they'd say to one another. How many kids made promises they'd never dream of keeping as adults? How few people expected to get anything out of them when they grew up?

She stared at him, waiting for him to say something else. Waiting for him to unfold his hands, to look up at her, to stand up and speak.

She wasn't going to say anything else until he did.

"Remember the last time we were at that tower, with Simon?" he asked.

This time he did glance up, just high enough to see above the waist, but he didn't see her flinch.

"I do," she told him. She stepped forward, walking out of the water and up the sand to the rocky outcrop he'd settled on. "And you? Remember the last time we were out here, just us two."

"I have a fiancée," was his automatic reply.

Right. That. Erza sat down beside him. He'd picked the flattest section of rock, and the jagged stone poked at her through her dress, but she pretended not to notice. He pretended not to notice the way she played with her feet, rubbing off the grains of sand that clung to them. His head was down again. If he looked up he'd have to see more of her.

"It's getting late," she said once she'd run out of sand to pick off of her feet. "We don't have much time left."

"We don't."

"But no one's coming to check on us," she added. A friend might peek in to make sure they hadn't disappeared, but she knew no one she'd come with would drag her back prematurely. Jellal's friends? It didn't seem likely. They'd never gotten in the way before.

Jellal didn't respond.

"Simon and I never did that. Sitting out and looking at the ocean. Talking about what we wanted in life."

"I have to go."

Jellal got up, trying not to show how concerned he was that Erza had sat to his left. Left was the way to he had to go to get back to camp, and walking out towards the water before doubling back would make what he was doing too obvious. He tried walking in front of her and hoped she wouldn't grab him.

She did. She snatched the sleeve of his jacket as he walked by. "Stop running."

"I'm walking."

"You're standing," she corrected. "Now stop running away from me."

"Don't bring Simon into this."

"You did first. Don't use him against me, Jellal. I won't be deterred."

Jellal took a step back, then clenched his arm in determination. He wouldn't be either.

"The others will wonder where we are."

"They know where we are." Erza looked at him, tried to force him to meet her gaze by willing it to happen. "I don't mind. I know what happened. I know what went on between you and Simon at the tower. You know I know, and I'm still here. You can see that, can't you? I'm still here, with you—you can't convince me that you don't want that, no matter how many other girls you see. Stop running from me. Neither of us want the distance."

Jellal turned his head away.

"Look at me."

He did. You didn't ignore Erza when she took that tone. He looked back at her feet, his tea green eyes trailing up past her thighs, past wide hips that the thin white dress did nothing to conceal the shape of, past the locks of red hair that draped over a generous bust, and up to her not quite as gentle as they could be hazel orbs.

"I have a fiancée," he repeated. "I'm sorry."

STA: Whoo. Just handed this in for my Creative Writing class. All my original characters have weird names anyway, so the teacher will never know the difference. Our assignment was dialogue that works on two levels. We had to write about someone trying to convince another person to do something without ever saying what they were really discussing, and the only OC I have who isn't blunt is a compulsive liar, so my usual fallbacks didn't work.

No grade yet, but I did get peer reviews... which were mixed. One kid went on about my motif of sight (which I did not use so many times intentionally) and told me that my dialogue only said what the characters meant. I think he thought the story was about Erza getting Jellal to look up her... Actually I sort of hate that guy. He underlines a couple words in every other sentence I write and labels them cliche. Well, what does he know? My midterm assignment scored a 97 and his was barely above 80, so ha ha.