Thoughts of Juvia

He let his eyes wander toward her, taking in the way she smiled and gave her full attention to Gajeel and Natsu's argument, leaning in when Lucy made a comment. She laughed, and Gray knew something was wrong when it made him think her hair was bluer when she laughed. He knew something was wrong when he noticed the way she grimaced and smiled all at the same time, her concern and comfort showing through in the lines about her eyes.

Her eyes were pretty.

Dammit.

"See something you like?" Mira asked, plopping another beer in front of him as he jumped. Her smile was devious. "You just need to go say hi, you know."

Gray gave her a look that said he wasn't in the mood, but she continued smiling anyway. Was he really that transparent? He took a long swig of the beer, eyes focused on the white haired woman in front of him—not on Juvia.

"Don't look so sour, Gray. It's nice to have someone that special to you."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Well, I don't see you looking at me the way you look at Juvia."

That shut him up.

Maybe he really was that obvious.

"What's stopping you?" she pulled a glass from the sink, rag in hand as she wiped it clean. "She cares about you. It's not like she would say no."

Of course she wouldn't; Juvia was very dramatic about how she felt for him. It was annoying and sometimes embarrassing, but he didn't mind it really. That was the least of his concerns. He shook his head, taking another long swig of the beer. Talking about Juvia wasn't the easiest thing. He had a hard enough time thinking about her without ending up with these stupid observations that made no sense. It's not like he didn't realize what it meant; they had a bond. Gray trusted her, and Juvia trusted him. He saved her. She had saved him. He didn't have to worry about if Juvia would know what he needed or what to do next. They had this unspoken bond, this intense synchronization.

It didn't need words.

That's why the fact he noticed the way her hands would clasp behind her back when she was trying to ask him something she was worried he would refuse bothered him.

"It's not that easy."

It bothered him because he knew what it meant; it meant he was aware, and he was aware because he felt comfortable with her. The comfort was on a different level, though; he liked the way she made him feel. It was dangerous.

His parents, Ur, Ultear…. He couldn't add Juvia to that list. He was well aware of how he felt; it was just safer for her if he pushed her away.

"I think it is."

"It's better this way." He answered, suddenly not interested in the beer. "She's safer."

Mirajane frowned slightly. "Gray, don't tell me you still…"

"I'll always."

She sighed. "You have to let yourself have something that is just for you. There is nothing wrong with being a little selfish every now and again."

Gray's hand tightened on the bottle, eyes boring holes into the wooden countertop. It wasn't that he didn't think Juvia couldn't handle herself—she'd proven that time and again. Hell, she was S-class in Phantom Lord and was part of the S class trials for Fairy Tail. Juvia had defeated a member of Grimiore Hearts 7 Kin of Purgatory, and then followed after Zeref with a broken leg; she was just as accomplished as any other mage he had known. The problem was he could say the same for every other person who had died protecting him, which was an action he was sure Juvia wouldn't hesitate to do.

"I don't want her to hurt herself for me." He said mutely, finally letting go of the neck of the bottle and leaning back in his seat. "Juvia's… unique and passionate."

"Don't let that scare you." Mira advised, turning a bit. "You could lose her in a different way if you at least give her a chance to prove she can love you and live."

He glanced up toward the older girl, an awkward feeling settling in his gut. Lose Juvia in a different way— Gray hadn't thought about it that way. Her affections had become more tolerable and expected, to the point he would miss them when she was gone for missions—he hadn't thought about what he would do if she finally gave up and gave those affections to someone else.

The same selfishness that made him push her away awoke a different need to draw her close; it was always the same battle, wondering which one would eventually win out.

Mirajane grinned, and Gray knew he had been caught. "I…"

"No excuses Gray. Do yourself a favor and go ask her out for dinner, and let yourself see what you could have—let her decide her own fate." She smiled. "I think she will surprise you."

"Yeah, she's always full of surprises." He mumbled, arms crossing. "How in the hell do I ask her to dinner without her doing something crazy or fainting?"

The other woman giggled. "That's for you to figure out, Gray. Good luck!" she winked and walked off to the other end of the bar.

Dammit.

How the hell did she trick him into seriously considering something like that?

Now that the idea had planted itself in his head, there was no getting rid of it—not unless he asked her and got it over with. It wasn't like he had to go out with her again. He could test the waters, give in to this what if craving that would do neither of them any good, and be done with it after he'd had his little taste at what it could be if he were anyone other than Gray Fullbuster, the man who lost everyone who he let get too close to him. It might be unfair to Juvia or it could show her it was pointless to try and pull his emotions out from where the demons had buried them.

He was on his feet before he realized what he was doing, eyes fixated on the way she turned fluidly at his presence. Gray had realized long ago how much she resembled her element. She moved gracefully and with beauty but could fight with the ferociousness of rapid tides and storm-current waves; she was persistent and chipped away at the hardest surfaces to uncover what was beneath. Her eyes saw more than she chose to comment on.

And no matter what he told himself, she had managed to carve a place for herself within him that he could never fill with anything else.

Damn woman.

"Juvia." Gray said, pulling her full attention away from the argument and on him. "I have something I need to ask you."