with me
summary: with you, now and forever.
prompt: sweaters and scarves
.
It's only five minutes after they step outside into the snow when Erza begins to unravel.
"Ah!" she exclaims, in a somewhat of a subdued yelp.
She raises her hands to the tops of her shoulders, trying to catch the falling loops of her scarf that are slowly escaping her neck. Her mittens betray her, however, and so when her scarf falls to a clump upon the fresh snow, she squats down to pick it back up — the only way to reach down with her bulky overcoat. But then the pink knitted hat with a large white pom-pom on top of her head falls forward, and in trying to keep that in place, she ends up stumbling backwards seat first right into the snow.
Her pout is unmistakable.
He can't help the smile that breaks over his lips. He offers her a hand up — one she begrudgingly takes — and pulls her back to standing.
"You okay there?" he teases, bending over to grab her scarf off the ground. Fortunately not much snow has gotten onto the fabric yet, and Jellal quickly brushes the white powder off before it melts and turns wet and cold.
"Just fine," she mutters grumpily. She rubs her backside vigorously, trying to get the snow off the back of her pants and coat.
He laughs softly, handing her scarf back.
She takes it and quickly tries to fix herself back up. He watches her sloppily circle the scarf around her head, a little too tight around the neck and a little too loose around the shoulders.
Within seconds, everything falls apart again.
He laughs again. She's never been able to quite get it right.
"You know," he says, taking the scarf to readjust it and draping it over her head. "For all the times that you've fixed my tie, I would have thought you'd be much better at keeping things around your neck."
"Scarves are completely different from ties," she retorts.
He gives her a pondering smile, considering her point. "Sure, sure," he tells her, looking back down to fix the scarf. He makes sure the ends are even, smoothing it out before he recognizes the heart-like pattern stitched onto it, and then looks back up at her.
"This looks my armor," he muses.
"Well," she admits. "I made this scarf last year." She gives him a guilty smile. "I missed you."
"I'm sorry," he murmurs. Apologies are almost an automatic reflex.
"Don't be," she tells him. "None of that was your fault. We weren't ready."
He frowns. "Still," he says. "There was no reason for you to wait seven years."
He wraps her scarf around her neck, adjusting it to perch perfectly atop her shoulders, loose enough for her to tuck her chin into. Finally, he fixes her half-fallen hat and then reaches under her hair to release it from underneath all the winter fabric. Her scarlet tresses falls over her thick purple overcoat, catching a few snowflakes.
Beautiful.
She looks worriedly at him. "Jellal, don't feel bad about being gone for so long," she says, reaching out to hold his hand between both of hers. "You're here now. With me." She looks up at him again, giving him a warm smile — so warm that it cuts the chilly winter air on his cheeks.
She's right, he realizes. She always has been.
He slides his hand out of her grip and pulls her — her entire bundle of winter clothing — close to him, a wide grin on his face.
"Oh no, I don't feel bad about that," he jokes, kissing her nose. "I only regret I haven't been here to help you properly put on a scarf. To think of all those times your poor scarf has fallen into the snow!"
"Jellal," she snorts, pulling away from him forcibly and turning around to continue their walk down the street.
She turns her head to give him a cheeky smile.
"And to think all those times your poor tie has had to be done and redone over and over again," she retorts, sticking her tongue at him.
"Well," he replies, taking wide strides to catch up with her, looping his arm with hers. "At least you're here now — with me."
thir13enth