Gray was done. Completely. Natsu could do whatever the fuck he wanted. Natsu could leave and never come back and you know what? That was just fucking fine. Gray was past the point of caring. He'd actually felt bad about their last fight. He'd known he'd gone too far. He'd even bought flowers, roses, to apologize. He knew it wasn't enough, but he was going to suggest couples therapy so that Natsu could see that he was trying, that he wanted to try because he really did love… Well none of that shit mattered anymore. As far as Gray was concerned, Natsu could go fuck himself.
He knew their fight was a bad one, the worst one they'd ever had and with the number of fights they'd had over the past couple of years, that was saying something. That didn't mean Natsu could leave and set their house on fire on his way out.
Gray watched the firefighters try unsuccessfully to put out the flames that devoured the house he'd spent three years in. The motorcycle was gone. Natsu never let anyone touch his precious bike, fixing it up whenever he could, taking it everywhere. Gray thought Natsu got the thing simply to avoid being in a car with him. If the bike was gone, so was Natsu, which meant he'd left. He'd finally realized they were too fucked up to work and picked up his shit and hit the road. Gray let his gaze linger on the flames a little longer. Good. He might have killed the pinkette if he was still here. Natsu had always had an unhealthy fascination with fire. The fucking lunatic had finally snapped and decided to take away the only thing that still meant something to them both. Fine.
He turned away from the house, ready to just get into his car and figure out where the fuck he was going to live now that his house was completely useless when he saw a paper sticking out of the mailbox.
He walked five steps to the left and took it, expecting it to be a bill or something that he sure as fuck wouldn't be paying while he figured out where he was supposed to sleep when he opened unfolded the sheet and recognized the messy handwriting and nearly ripped the paper to shreds before taking in its content. He took in a single deep breath to calm himself because he knew this was as close to an explanation as he would get and he would regret destroying it, and he began reading.
Gray,
I hate you.
I want you to know that. I hate you more than I've ever hated anyone in my life, Gray. So fucking much. You can press charges if you want, I know I deserve it, but look at the house. Look at our house. Just look at it.
That's how much I hate you.
I don't know if you remember who threw the first punch. I don't know if you remember what started the first real fight. I don't know how we fell apart. It's like I wasn't even there as it was happening. We were amazing, we were perfect, we were the kind of happy everyone else wanted to be and then one day we just… weren't. So I don't know if you remember how we became this. I don't know if you remember all the times we would beat each other until we bled, every time we fucked afterward, every time you said you loved me and every time I said it back. Gray, I don't know if you remember who was the first one to stop saying it afterward.
I want you to know I don't fucking remember. I don't remember because it's been six months since I noticed neither of us say a fucking thing after sex and it's always rough and angry and lately everything is just fists and blood and broken bones and I am so tired. I'm just tired. I can't do it anymore. I don't want to.
You don't love me anymore. I know that. It took a while to stick in my head but I get it now. I do.
And I hate you so much, that I don't think I love you anymore either.
I don't want to see you. Ever.
Kindly go fuck yourself,
Your "Love-Starved Orphan."
Gray crushed the letter in his fist, hating how easily Natsu could always piss him off. He knew they'd started off sweet, maybe even romantic, but whatever they had been was lost in the haze of limbs they became, living solely on the high of the fights and the sex that followed. Whatever they had been was long gone and Gray gritted his teeth because Natsu was right. He couldn't remember who threw the first punch. He didn't know what caused the first real fight. He didn't know when their violent tumbles into bed stopped being followed by apologetic 'I loves you's' and began being followed by nothing more than resentful glances or drives in the middle of the night in separate vehicles because one of them "needed to think." He didn't know how it all went to hell.
There were only two things Gray could remember about their three years together with fierce clarity. The first time he'd had sex with Natsu, the way Natsu had taken his hand in his and never let go throughout the entire night, wanting to feel connected to Gray in every way possible, because they'd been in love, because they'd been young and impulsive and stupid. And he remembered the fight. Obviously Natsu remembered it too. Gray had gone too far, bringing up Natsu's past in such a cruel way, but Natsu never liked to take his share of the blame. Gray wouldn't have brought that up if Natsu hadn't brought up Gray's past by calling him a "stage whore who missed the spotlight." Gray had needed the money back then. He'd been on his own until Natsu. Natsu knew that and he'd said it anyway and Gray had snapped and touched on the most fragile sensibility Natsu had because he'd wanted him to hurt. He'd wanted to take it back, but he had work. He'd come back ready to talk it out for the first time and his house was in flames. The last three years of his life gone up in smoke.
And Gray made a choice.
He would find Natsu. He wouldn't press charges. He wouldn't start another fight. He wouldn't give him flowers. He wouldn't suggest couples therapy.
He would find Natsu and get a divorce.
