notes: is this story super weird? yes. does anyone read this story? Unlikely. am i gonna update in anyways, because i am an angsty graylu whore? ...ya got me.


Shiver Guy brings six boxes, to my surprise, but one's just filled with leather—which I think makes up for any stereotypes he was trying to subvert. He drives a shitty black car with a license plate that reads ICEBOSS.

I'm not sure I want to know why.

As he pulls up to my street, I snoop at him from behind my curtains, trying to judge how old he is. Leather ages a guy. Pale skin—no acne, so definitely not a high schooler, but he's too scruffy to look anywhere near grown up. Nineteen or twenty, I decide. Not a college kid, but clever-looking enough to pass as one. And boringly handsome—no revealing vests or hair dyed a funky color—but the look in his eyes is anything but boring.

And because cable sucks, Erza stole all my good smut and my best friend left, taking his kissing skills with him, I'm starved for entertainment. So I might as well say hi. Be neighborly. A little nosy. Do what I do best.

Six seconds later I bust into his apartment with my most welcoming smile and a, "Howdy neighbor!" I swing onto his counter in a most elegant maneuver. Shiver Guy stands there, sipping coffee. The coffee spews from his mouth.

"Hi," he says.

"You're probably wondering who I am."

"Just slightly."

My legs hang limp from my counter perch, as I take in the barren remains of Natsu's apartment: there, his flame-patterned boxers used to hang, the nook where he stored his NASCAR videos, the table that is clear of empty cereal boxes for the first time in a year. A pang of sadness shoots through me—but no, Lucy. This is no time for sadness.

Not when your new neighbor clearly has enough.

"Lucy. That's me. I live across from you. I play loud music and cook strong-smelling food. Although this much information may be unnecessary because we're not even friends yet, and may never exchange more than pleasantries in the hallway." I take a breath. "Nice to meet you."

Shiver Guy's eyebrows go up, but otherwise his face remains a frozen mask of politeness. "Gray," he says. "So…should I offer you coffee, or do you want to stick with the whole 'not friends' thing?"

"I don't know. Do you have friends?"

"Not good ones."

"Do you care?"

"Depends on the day."

I consider him for a moment, with his still-blank face. "Coffee would be nice," I decide. "And my best friend just moved out of this apartment, and yes, I care pretty much every day."

He pours me a coffee, offers, "Bummer."

"Indeed."

"Natsu is a good guy. Reasonable rent. Fixed my garbage disposal."

There's a silence where I stare at my coffee cup pointedly; Shiver Guy gets the message and passes me the creamer. When I reach for it, he holds on for a moment, looking me in the eyes. "Look, try not to resent me too much for being here, okay? And for not being him?"

I nod, because I will try.

But I frown, because it won't be easy.

We sip coffee in amicable silence, broken occasionally by the maniacal laughter that often resounds from Jellal's apartment down the hall (though it is uncertain whether it's Jellal or Erza doing the laughing). Once again, Shiver Guy raises an eyebrow, head tilted. Questions must rattle around in his brain.

He's silent, though. Is he brooding, polite or just stupid?

"Listen, Gray...what did you say your last name was?" I ask.

"I didn't."

Okay, man. I let his evasiveness slide; after all, no one knew my name or my pretty-princess past for months after I moved in. "Look, is there anything you want to know about Magnolia? About how Mira sometimes grows scales? The scorch marks on every window frame in this apartment? You must be curious."

Surprise, surprise. He is silent, dark eyes on my face.

"I'm just saying," I continued, frustratedly trying to provoke any kind of response, "it's a dark and twisty rabbit hole you fell down, neighbor. You just might want some help seeing what's at the bottom."

"You're trying to do me a favor," he observes.

"Yes."

"So you can ask for a favor back, and find out what the hell a stranger is doing moving into your best friend's place."

Chagrined, I stare at my feet. It's never pleasant realizing you're not half as subtle as you think you are.

"...Maybe," I admit.

"Lucy?" He reaches across the kitchen and takes my empty coffee cup, turning away from me to rinse it out. "You can break into my apartment and we can hang out, as long as you don't expect me to talk too much. And if your best friend wants his place back, I'm gone."

"Sounds fair?" I venture, unsure of where he's going with this.

"But I don't cook or let people borrow my car. I don't chitchat. The thermostat's set to thirty degrees and it stays that way. And most important." He turns away from the sink, and there's something in his eyes that no longer seems so benign. "If you ask me why I'm here, I'll have to ask you. Do you want me to ask you?"

A blur in my head of broken china, funeral homes and soft pink dresses… "No," I hear myself say. "I guess not."

"So we're agreed?"

"We're in business, pal."

We shake hands solemnly in his dim-lit, barren kitchen; it feels much more solemn than it should. He is no Natsu, that is certain. But I like something about the way only his eyes change when he feels something, and the patterns his fingers trace on a coffee mug.

At the very least, he will keep me un-lonely and entertained.