Summary: This was how it all began.
Rated: K+ for sweet fluff and whispered promises.
Note: So I've realized I have been MIA for quite a while since my previous fanfic upload, and I do apologize for my disappearance. I had been going through … a turbulent instance of my life, what with family in hospitals and so forth. However, I am glad everything has settled (more or less) and my path is steady. I appreciate all the reviews encouraging me to write more. I'm very happy you, as my reader, enjoy my works.
Without further ado, I present to you, Everlasting Interlude, which, with the aid of my twisted imagination, starts during the one celebration in which a certain, fat hobo with ceaseless pounds of money that of whom stalks you nightly, offers you gifts underneath a pine tree.
Update: Damn. This was supposed to be released earlier than the recent drabble in Entangled Flames. Gomen for the delay.
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"Warmth is but a delusion of emotion that casts doubt upon one's senses. But sometimes, enduring the coldest of nights, that of which is what will become the haven of another's sanity. I no longer know what I desire but the heat of your words and the passion in your eyes."
~Elizabeth Cross
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[December]
First Kiss
The wind streaked past the citizens of Magnolia, bundled against the merciless wrath of the winter season, causing crystallized water in the form of miniature, beautifully unique icicles to swirl gently around a certain blonde.
The said female reached up and tugged her crimson, knitted cap tighter as she made her way briskly through the snow-drifted street.
She neared the cobblestoned steps of her beloved guild, smiling excitedly, when—
The world spun dizzily as she was abruptly snatched from her feet, causing her to cry out in shock as her bare fingers clung desperately to the smooth, black fabric of the kidnapper's clothing.
The blonde gasped, eyes fluttering open as her fingers, chilled from the temperature, touched the searing warmth that seeped from the hard flesh of their chest.
Who in their right minds would merely wear a feeble vest of all things, in this cursed weather?
"Whoa there, Luce!" came the indignant shout as onyx orbs peered down at her pouting figure, glittering droplets of water trailing down his salmon-coloured locks as he sprinted.
His eyes sparkled mischievously as the Celestial mage in question scolded him for his imprudence, but the playful twinkle in her chocolate irises betrayed her.
As Natsu burst through the double-door entrance of Fairy Tail, Lucy turned her head and the breath was knocked from her lungs as she gaped, awed at the sight of her seemingly transformed guild.
In honour of the approaching holiday of Christmas (one holiday the said blonde rarely celebrated after the passing of both her legal guardians), Mirajane had, indeed, as she had promised (with a devious gleam), used all of her demonic (*ahem*, angelic) powers to transform the guild (forcing all members to contribute, of course—with the sole exception of Lucy, who had been bedridden, sick with fever she had caught due to a duo mission a few days earlier).
And all her efforts had paid off.
A tall, pine tree stood at the centre of the wide room, cleared of all tables, numerous décor lining the plant, with a cool touch of soft drifting snowflakes that faded before they touched the waxed floor (courtesy of their resident Ice-Make wizard).
Lights were strung around the tops of the building, glittering cheerfully as the Celestial mage's affiliates rushed around the room, the white-haired barmaid calling out instructions in the middle of the bustle, along with the female swordswoman, who was currently dragging a flailing Gray, a sobbing Juvia clutching at his leg.
Her partner set her down as she straightened quickly, too occupied with shrugging off her jacket to notice the odd, faint blush that dusted the Dragon Slayer's cheeks.
Natsu coughed and grinned, grabbing her hand as he rushed towards the lighted bar, calling for his neko companion, who spotted their interlocked hands and snickered silently, causing Lucy to flush darkly, but ignored him nonetheless.
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The remainder of the day was spent chatting happily with the blonde's fellow guildmates, accepting the delicate glass of sweetened wine (it was a miracle her scatterbrained partner did not drop the drink, which would ultimately cause Erza to turn her drunken rage towards the poor, oblivious pink-haired mage), and the strangely calming disorderliness of the guild in general.
Lucy started when the white-haired barmaid declared the dance floor open to all willing participants.
The cheerful lights flickered as the mood abruptly dimmed into something alluring. The colours pulsed mutedly as a sweet melody drifted from the player behind the tablet.
The blonde blinked at the sudden shift in atmosphere as, almost immediately, friendly laughter ceased and (Cana included—albeit drunkenly and tilting on her feet quite a bit) grabbed a partner and began to dance.
The Celestial mage stared in disbelief as she spotted the unlikely couple of (a blushing) Lisanna and a certain (smirking) navy-haired member of the Thunder God Tribe swaying together somewhat awkwardly but presented a cute situation nonetheless.
(Even the youngest Take-Over mage's sister was dishing it out on the floor with Freed … although the suspicion had lingered ever since Mirajane had successfully stopped the emerald-haired wizard from continuing his fight with Elfman.)
The blonde smiled ruefully as she carried on drinking, quietly observing her guildmates and mischievously noting which couples to blackmail the next morning.
She blinked in surprise when a warm hand wrapped around her own, setting down her glass and tugging her towards a secluded space at the edge of the dance floor.
"Natsu?" Lucy said, stumbling after the Dragon Slayer.
"Whoa," she gasped, feeling the building whirl around her.
"Dance with me, Luce," the unusually serious male murmured quietly, shocking the blonde when, with a quick flick of his wrist, she twisted so her backside was pressed scandalously direct to his front.
Natsu wrapped his arms around her waist, slipping her arms around his neck and they began to sway gently.
"N-Natsu?" Lucy inhaled sharply as he nuzzled her neck, "what's gotten into you?"
Unbeknownst to the Celestial mage, the dance floor had already been evacuated and their fellow (scheming) guildmates were crouched behind Mirajane's bar, keen eyes glued to their every action.
The Dragon Slayer merely tipped her chin up, her chocolate orbs following his deliberate gaze at the reprehensibly-placed customary relationship-ruining plant that seemed to wink at the appalled female.
"Mavis," Lucy groaned, aghast.
Natsu abruptly pulled her closer, her eyes widening and fluttering shut as he pressed his lips against hers, soft and warm, gentle and sweet. She tangled her fingers in his thick, salmon locks and his fingers gripped her waist firmly.
"Merry Christmas, Luce," Natsu whispered, finally pulling away. His breath ghosted across her lips, foreheads touching, as she smiled breathlessly.
"Merry Christmas, Natsu."
{That was the beginning. His fire burned for her light and the link began to form.}