Ann looks like she can hardly contain her excitement. "He kissed you?!" she exclaims, her eyes all clouded with dreaminess. She's wiping down the tables at the inn to get ready and begin the day, but she's finding herself a little distracted.

Claire touches her lips for the millionth time that morning. They still feel swollen and supple from the evening before. "Only 'cause I suggested it."

Ann waves her hand in dismissal. "Gray's too chickenshit to make the first move. But you did!" she squeals, all giddy and girly. So unlike Ann.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say that you placed all of your chips on us," says Claire.

Ann blinks. "What a 'Gray' thing to say."

She finds herself blushing. He's not really rubbing off on me, is he? "Well, how else would anyone kiss me?"

Popuri traces designs into the table with her pointer finger absentmindedly. "Someone would have kissed you sooner or later,Claire."

"Yeah, right."

"I get this feeling that you don't realize what a catch you are," Ann says, leaning back on the table and using her hands to outline the hourglass of Claire's silhouette. "Hello?"

"What a 'Kai' thing to say," Claire laughs.

"Agreed," says Popuri. "It's actually kind of scary."

"Whatever. All I'm saying is that it was bound to happen eventually. The tension between you and Gray was crazy."

Claire chews on the inside of her cheek. "But we agreed to a platonic kiss."

As if. That kiss felt like anything but.

Not that Claire minded.

Ann raises her brows. "I'd hardly call his kisses platonic."

She's right. Even though it was her first kiss, Claire knows that it screamed passion. And if Gray was just acting, then he needed his Academy Award ASAP. "Look, face it. We're just friends. And even at that, I don't think that he can stand me."

"He wouldn't choose to be around you if that was the case. I think that he likes you," says Popuri. She teeters on her chair like a little kid, nodding at Claire in satisfaction, as though she's cracked a secret code to the town's unpredictable blacksmith.

"Our friendship consists of sarcastic comments and bickering," Claire explains. "We-"

"Oh my GOD! Stop denying it!" Ann exclaims in exasperation, shaking her head. Her tawny braid sways with the movement. "That's like, the basis of your chemistry." She takes two shot glasses that are immersed in soapy water from the bar sink, pouring them into a wine glass simultaneously, making a poof! motion with her hands. A regular Bill Nye.

"I really don't know if that's the case," says Claire. "And now you're totally starting to sound like Karen."

She keeps her mind occupied elsewhere by helping dry the inn's freshly-washed cutlery, patting the forks with a bright tea towel. If she engrosses herself with the excitement of utensils, then perhaps all of this will just exit her mind. The image of Gray pressed up against her will be out of her thoughts in no time.

Hands clutching her close, lips hot and heavy, tongue slick-

Er, maybe not.

"Claire? I said, 'do you like him?'" Ann is waiting impatiently for an answer.

But Claire doesn't have one.

Everything lately feels like a lot to think about. She's gone from living a life where no one around her did crazy things, to suddenly being thrust into the crazy. Not that she minds at all, of course. Mineral Town is the first place that's felt like home in a long time. It's a fresh new world for her; one that she's more than happy to experience.

It's just that Gray is the most volatile person in town; he's unlike anyone else here. Which probably has to do with the fact that he didn't grow up around here, but Claire digresses. She doesn't even know how to begin categorizing him, because he's also unlike anyone that she's ever known before. The fact that they're friends is totally weird, given that they're polar opposites, but to consider them as anything more would just be bizarre. Friends don't exactly act the way that they do.

They also don't kiss the way that we did either.

"He's just so irritated all the time," Claire says. "Sometimes, I wonder why he even hangs out with me."

"Because he likes being around you," Ann says, as though this is blatantly obvious. "It'll be like pulling teeth to get him to admit that, though."

Claire pauses for a moment, considering it all. She's not exactly sure how to feel. Gray is brash, rude, and cold; there's no denying any of that. But, he's also dependable, funny, and maybe even… kind of sweet. She remembers the tenderness of his hands and the coarseness of his desire yesterday. To make someone feel weightless is one thing, but to have the body of someone else weighing down on you feels… even better.

Maybe the kiss is making Claire want more. Maybe she's starting to develop something for Gray. And maybe... maybe he even shares these feelings.

She looks up at Ann's hopeful face. It's not like Claire doesn't like Gray; it's just that she truly doesn't know how to feel around someone as unorthodox as him. She's never even had a guy like her back before.

"I should go talk to him," she decides.

Ann shakes Claire's shoulder eagerly, while Popuri claps beside her, cheering. Yeah, they definitely have some kind of bet going on.


Gray crashes down his welding tool against the scorching silver metal. The emerald necklace that he's almost finished crafting stares back at him, demanding his entire focus. As if he can focus on his trade right now. His mind is set on one person that he just can't seem to wrap his head around.

Saibara looks over at him expectantly. "You didn't hear a word I said, did you, Gray?"

The adrenaline of the kiss, the heat pumping through his veins, the pounding of his heart.

"No," Gray says.

Normally, his grandfather just drops it, which helps aid his case in justifying what a lost cause Gray is. But today, Saibara slams his mallet down on the anvil, so hard, the room shakes.

"Get your head outta your ass and start focusing," he admonishes harshly. "I know you spent your night with Claire, but-"

"Don't," Gray snaps, his cheeks hot. "Don't bring her up."

Yet the dream is already fresh in his mind once again, like a vivid hallucination inside his head. It feels like something forbidden; something that he was never supposed to see.

Something that he was never supposed to feel for himself.

Of course Gray wanted to kiss her. How could he have thought that repressing this would work? He's wanted his mouth against hers the whole damn time.

He just isn't supposed to want her in the context of his dream, though. He's not supposed to want to undress her, or push her down on a bed, or press his lips against the entirety of her body. And Gray doesn't want this; he keeps telling himself that his vision was completely unintentional, and likely derived from her asking him to zip down her dress prior. He doesn't want her for the sole purpose of hooking up, despite this being his go-to, default entanglement with girls. He's never not done things that way.

But she's got him going all soft here. Now what? What the hell do I even want anymore? Gray's had girlfriends in the past; he's had flings in the past. So why is it like he's walking in to this whole thing blindly?

Because she's different. Because everything feels different now.

Claire isn't like any other girl that he's known before. This also means that the way he feels about her is unlike anything that he's experienced before, either. She's kindhearted and sarcastic and stunning and-

And I know that she wanted my kiss.

And I'm not sure if I'd be any good for her.

And I can't say how she'd react if she knew what was running through my goddamn head.

And I'm friggin' confused.

Saibara doesn't look too happy right now. "You can't just let shit stop you from doing your work. Your father asked me to mentor you, which I been trying to do, but-"

Gray picks up the unfinished jewelry with his gloved hand, squeezing it tightly between his palm. It's so hot that it radiates through the heat-proof fabric. "Gramps, there's nothing wrong with my work. The goddamn necklace looks fine. So please hop off my back."

"You know, the real problem's inside of you-"

"And here we go. Piss off with that shit." Gray's temper starts to boil, taking over. This hardly ever used to happen when his mom was alive; she really just kept him grounded. He was still stone-cold, sure, but that demeanor stopped him from experiencing any kind of red-hot anger. Without her around though, he lets it unleash more often than he'd like.

The door to Mineral Blacksmith opens at this point, and Gray is ready to fully lose it. "Whoever it is," he says angrily, turning his body to face the front door. "Get the hell out of here-"

But it's Claire. Of course it's her. She stares at him with worry, hand hovering over her heart. "Gray," she says softly, taking a step closer to him.

Her lips look enlarged and tender today. She stands there clutching a basket, wearing a modest skirt and crisp top, hair pinned back like a beautiful doll. Gray remembers pushing her against the wall of the closet yesterday, messing up her head of curls.

He decides to stop remembering.

"Blondie, get lost."

Her face knots in concernment. "I think that you need to relax," she mumbles, clearly confused at his outburst.

"I fucking mean it, you need to leave."

She narrows her eyes at him sharply, already getting mouthy. What else is new? "Why? Is someone else in your bedroom right now?"

Saibara just lets out a low whistle beside Gray. It was a good burn, for sure, if it weren't to be directed at him.

"You just love to push my goddamn buttons, don't you?"

"What is your problem?" Claire snaps.

Internal crisis regarding my views on casual sex, relationships, and you. No big deal. "You're really something else, eh? It's none of your friggin' business."

"No, seriously. Why don't you get that stupid chip off your shoulder, and-"

"You are my problem, Claire."

This painful statement that he's hurled at her causes her eyes to well up immediately. She retreats back like a wounded animal, her lower lip trembling as the tears spill down her cheeks. Saibara steps in between the two of them, holding his hands out as if he's a hockey referee during a heated game.

"Gray!" he scolds. "My God, I understand that couples fight, but-"

"Couple?" Claire barks out a laugh, blinking back her hurt in record timing. "As if I would ever give myself to some-"

"Give yourself?" Gray retorts. "I wish you could hear what you sound like right now. You're such a freakin' evangelist."

She starts to correct herself, cheeks burning in embarrassment. "As if I would ever want to be with some hotheaded-"

"Oh, like I'd ever want to be with an uptight-"

"Whatever!" Claire shrieks, turning to his grandfather abruptly. She hands him a basket full of white and purple turnips with aggressive force. "These are for you, Saibara. But you deserve way more than that for dealing with him."

"Leave," Gray snaps again.

She spins on her heel, reaching for the doorknob. "I'm not gonna be late for church because of you, so yeah, I am leaving!"

"Heaven forbid. Of course you're going to-"

But Claire's already stormed out, slamming their door shut. Her perfume still lingers in the room though, like warm sugar and sweet candy combined. The scent of her so close to him last night was positively intoxicating.

And now she's gone, having been driven out of his house for no good goddamn reason.

Saibara rifles through the basket silently, clearly impressed with her crops. "You can never just keep a good thing, can you, Gray?"

Mouth hot on his, her body so small, their kiss so needy.

What is his problem?

"No," Gray says. "I fucking cannot."