She thought she would hate him. She thought she should hate him, for what he did, for who he was. She thought that she would hate him forever, never forgive him for the way he made her knees weak-and not in the good way-her hands falter, her thoughts stumble over each other in terrified circles. She had never been so afraid before as she had been facing him, and she thought she would never get over it.

She was wrong.

It was impossible to hate him, when she saw his face when he thought no one was watching. When she followed him to see him punch a wall in total frustration; she saw, then, that he was as human as she was, capable of hurting and being hurt both, and she saw, impossibly, that he'd been hurt by the stunned and outraged reactions of her guildmates. He wanted to be accepted-he had a vulnerability-and then she could no longer bring herself to hate him.

In fact, she fell in love with him a little, then.

It was a small thing, a flutter, the same soft feeling she got from being around her teammates and friends-the feeling of being protected and wanting to protect. To feel such a thing towards such a monster was incredible, was unbelievable, and yet she could no more stop the feeling than she could stop the fear that still sank into her bones when she saw him, even if it was just his back. It was more than the physical differences between the two of them; there was something totally wild about him. He wasn't just out of control-something inside of him was totally unhinged. It was scary-it was exhilarating.

She thought she would hate him.

Levy drew her knees up to her chest and shuddered, looking around the half-dark room and squeezing her eyes shut before deciding that having them open was far less scary. The lingering traces of the nightmare still clung to her like a relative that refuses to leave after the holidays. She couldn't shake that after-dream, surreal feeling that none of this was really happening and in seconds she was about to be terrified by something else. She felt exposed, as if her skin was raw and thin and one good shot would get through to her heart. She reached for her phone, but her hand hesitated, hovering over the landline like a bird skittish to land. Who would she call? How would she justify it? What would she even say?

A glance at her clock, which read 5:57 in the morning, decided her, and she drew her hand back under the covers, pulling them tight around her chin. She knew that getting up would help her-the sense of normality of her morning routine would throw the last vestiges of terror from her mind and clear her head for the day to come: worries about money, getting stronger, and the overall outcome of who she was going to be would come back to the foreground, and the mystical, nameless emotions that remained even after her dream had gone would fade back into the box they belonged in, not to come out until her next fear-filled night.

A knock-more of a bang, really-on her door proved to be the fright she was waiting for, and she bolted up in bed with a small shriek, all of her terrors in that instant coming to a head. Then it passed, and a gruff voice came, "Hey? Y'alright in there?"

She didn't recognize it, but that in and of itself was no cause for fear. The small apartment complex she stayed in was run down, an in-between place for newcomers or college students. People were always coming and going, to the point where Levy had ceased to know her neighbors. She was the only one who stayed. She actually liked her tiny, two-room space, even with its molding ceiling and over-sensitive fire alarm. The view from her picture window was unbeatable, her kitchen space was big enough to handle dinner for her whole team, there were no dark corners for monsters to lurk, and, best of all, Fairy Tail was not three blocks away.

"Cause I heard some screechin' . . ." the voice went on, sounding more annoyed than concerned.

"Sorry! I'm f-fine!" Levy called back. She was still in bed, she realized, feeling ridiculous, in her light summer nightgown, yelling through the door at some stranger. She had even stuttered.

There was a creak of wood, as if the person on the other side had leaned against her door, and then he(the voice was too deep to be female), spoke again, sounding somehow closer. "Ya don't sound it." The speaker had a drawl to his tone, as if he was too lazy to bother speaking properly, but the lilt to his words suggested it wasn't an affected accent so much as the only way he knew how to speak.

"I said I'm fine! Go away!" Her fear had brought on unease, which brought on some measure of shame, which caused her to snap. She could have sworn she heard a low chuckle before heavy, thudding footfalls went a few paces away from her and then a door slammed. It sounded as if whoever had come to check on her was the tenant to her left-the one on her right was a partier, and probably not home yet from his revels.

Shaken back to reality, Levy got out of bed, made herself breakfast, and planned her day. As she had thought, the more normal she acted, the better she felt, so that by the time she was dressed and ready to go to the guild, the nightmare was no more than a memory.

She paused on her way down the hall by the door next to hers. She felt a little sheepish at her reaction to the man, when he'd been trying to do something nice . . . or had he? Suspicion pricked the edges of her mind. In this day and age, you could never be too careful about who you invited to consort with you. He could have been trying to get in and take advantage of her; he could be some kind of pervert, in which case she would be better off just going on her way. But-if he was just some harmless old man, or a guy with a good heart(ha!)or something, than just passing by without thanks would be rude. Besides, she could protect herself.

On the other hand, that was what a lot of girls thought, until they turned out to be victims. Her thoughts going around in circles, Levy hovered too long by the door. From inside, the same man from before yelled out, "Well, what t'hell is it? I paid my damn rent!"

Levy winced, then, inexplicably, giggled. "Um-it's Levy. Levy McGarden." she called back, trying to keep the laugh from sounding in her words. "I was-from earlier. I mean, I'm your neighbor. I just wanted to, um, thank you for checking on me, and apologize for being rude."

There was a pause. Then- "Levy, huh? What kinda dumbass name is that?"

Levy almost couldn't believe her ears-then she was seized, once again, with the desire to laugh. "What kind of way is that to greet someone who came to thank you?" she shot back, and this time didn't bother keeping the humor from her voice. It wasn't in her nature to get upset over rudeness, and she got the feeling, even though she'd never seen the guy, that his bark was bigger than his bite. Or was it louder? How did that saying go . . . ? Musing, Levy leaned back against the wall opposing the door and considered it. She really should know-words were her forte, after all. But she didn't have to know everything, right? If she was aware of something she didn't know, though, wasn't it her responsibility to learn?

"Ya gonna stand out there forever, or are ya gonna come in?" the man on the other side of the door finally said, and Levy realized that she had been thinking for a while, long enough for an awkward pause to stretch through the equally awkward conversation.

"I think I'll stay out here, thanks." she called back. "I mean, I don't even know your name-oh!" She remembered her original purpose. "Actually, I have to go, now, anyway. Maybe I'll talk to you later!" Now late, she sprinted down the hall, just barely hearing the "Whatever, see ya." that followed her.