Looking at herself in the mirror was a bad idea. The mottled purple and blue flesh did little to hide the swelling of one side of her face, and only served to emphasize the black eye and scrapes along her delicate features. The worst part was her lower lip, badly split from a poor attempt at dodging. She whimpered as she poked at it, wincing as fresh blood gushed forth and down her chin.

She wondered what Gajeel would say if he saw her now; if he'd act concerned for her or tell her that she needed to be faster. She sighed as she pulled a paper towel and ran it under cold water, hissing as she dabbed the blood away. The latter was true; she did need to be faster. But she hadn't expected an all-out assault in her first day of basic training, let alone getting her butt handed to her. She wondered if all new recruits had to suffer the same, and if they were better at avoiding the rapid-fire punches flying their way. It had been all that she could do to avoid her trainer's brutal attacks, but with magic being forbidden in basic, there was little else she could do. Not that it had helped much.

Even biting her tongue instead of her lip hurt. She gulped back the urge to give in to the tears, not wanting to fall into feeling sorry for herself again. That had been nearly disastrous, and it was by sheer luck that Gajeel had found her when he did. And though it had been the sprout that bloomed into love, it was glaringly obvious afterwards that she needed to try more. Of course, her training for the Games didn't really result in combat, something that she had been secretly grateful for after seeing the competitors. But after the guild disbanded and they had joined the council, she had felt the little niggle of motivation to try again rise and fester. So much so that she begged Gajeel to start training her.

That had resulted in a lot of resistance for his part, much to her disappointment. She couldn't really understand why, except that it was due his insistence that he couldn't hit a girl. Of course, she had backfired with the snarky comment that he had hit her before they actually met. The look he had shot her filled her with instant regret; it was so hurt and heartbroken. She rushed to apologize, only to have him ground out to find someone else before he turned and stormed off. After that, he didn't show up too much, making the nights difficult for her to sleep; she couldn't believe how stupid she had been to blurt it out.

She always prided herself on forgiving others, no matter what. She thought that she had gotten past that, but she had been so angry with him for refusing her that she just… blurted it out, like it had festered secretly. Needless to say, she would never forgive herself for such a cruel thing.

It seemed like he was slow to forgive her as well, making his absence more noticable with each passing day. Soon, she'd only catch glimpses of him across the cafeteria or hall, always busy or looking elsewhere. Whenever she'd call or try to catch up, he would disappear or she would be intercepted by another member. Then, the days would add up without a sight of the dragon slayer, adding another stab of hurt to her aching heart. She missed him so bad on those days, it was hard not to break down while working.

"Stupid Gajeel…" She whimpered, grimacing till her lip pulled apart again. She hiccupped pitifully, unable to stop the tears that rolled down her face. Her shoulders curled inward in an effort to stop the sobs from escaping her, her body shaking as it ached. She inhaled deeply, holding her breath before letting it out in a shaky huff. She squinted at herself again in the mirror, and with a start, realized that her headband was missing.

Her favorite headband that he had given her on their first day as council members.

A choked sob broke loose, and she whipped up a fist to stifle it before she could wail. It must've fallen off while training, she thought as she ran her bruised fingers through her dirty hair.

She had indeed found a trainer for basic combat training, needing it rather than wanting it to distract her from her feelings. She hadn't expected the intensity of the training at all, being assured by Jura that it was for beginners like her. She belatedly recalled his warning regarding the course; it was hard, and few ever graduated it without visiting the hospital wing, if they were lucky. But she had been desperate, and threw herself in headfirst, and thus, here she stood, broken and battered.

She wavered, suddenly exhausted from everything now. Sleep sounded nice, actually. Far nicer than trying to feed herself or clean up. She nodded to herself in the glass, her mind set on finding her cot to collapse in and losing conscious for a long time. She sighed, then slowly turned, wincing as her body screamed at her.

Since it was dinner time in the chow hall, the main halls were thankfully empty, allowing her to slip through unnoticed. Which suited her fine, she could barely walk without limping or gasping at a hurt she couldn't feel beforehand. And the rush of the crowd would've added to her hurts, not too many people were conscious of her to not ram her over or trample her.

"Oi."

She froze, her breath caught in her throat as she recognized his voice echoing through the hall. She hadn't heard him utter one word to her since her careless remark, and it tore at the edges of the wound in her heart, she had missed it so much. His footsteps were coming closer from behind, fast and intent on their destination. She sucked in her breath, willing herself not to cry and trying to swallow the lump that lodged itself in her throat. He had stopped behind her now, silent. She wondered if he was trying to figure what to say to her, and dreaded what it might be. Please, I'm so sorry, sorry, sorry! She wanted to cry out, but her throat closed on the words. Please!

A flash of pink flapped in front of her eyes, startling her. It was her head band, dirty and torn, with bit of her hair stuck to little clots of blood. Tentatively, she reached out to grasp it, tugging on it. Yet, he didn't release his grip.

"Some fucker had this tucked into his belt like a fucking badge," he growled, and her breath hitched. "When I asked him where he got it, y'know what he said?"

She shook her head, breathing deeply to try and calm herself.

"He said it was from a new recruit who was stupid enough not to duck." The anger in his voice was palpable, and she cringed, nearly whimpering when he tugged sharply on the ribbon. She could feel his hand slide gently onto her shoulder, gripping gently. "Y'know how good it felt to smash his face in?" He asked, his voice softer now. She inadvertently bit her lip, gasping when the pain flared over her lip. She didn't resist his hand tugging her around to face him, shaking as she felt the last of her reserve crumble. Tears blinded her as she heard him inhale sharply, cursing under his breath as he cupped her swollen cheek gently.

"On the other hand, I oughta bury the bastard," he growled. She hiccuped, reaching out for him and grasping the edge of his jacket. Was it real? Was she dreaming? She couldn't tell if she had fallen unconscious in the hall due to her injuries, but it sure felt like it was. His other arm was coming up to support her as she leaned towards him, sobbing softly. Then, he was lifting her up, cradling her in his arms and rushing away. She figured it was to the infirmary, but she wasn't sure anymore and she stopped caring; he was here, talking to her and holding her. And god, it felt good to be held by him again.

Her breath hitched as her emotions flooded over her now, more painful than her actual injuries. She curled against him, her body drinking in the warmth she desperately craved. She'd never let him go like that again, never be so cruel when he needed love, not bitterness. She slipped one arm around his neck, sobbing harder when he hugged closer, muttering oaths under his breath.

"I'm so sorry," she blubbered between sobs. "So, so sorry." She heard him grunt, then sigh deeply as he nuzzled his jaw over her head gingerly.

"Me too, shorty," he murmured, almost too quietly. She sniffled, settling down enough to lean back and consider him, panting to catch her breath. He inclined his head to face hers, his face drawn and tired. It was enough to set her off again, and she buried her face in his neck, whimpering.

"I thought you hated me," she hiccuped, her hands clenching his jacket lapel tightly. Her lip tickled as blood trickled down her chin, fresh from her injury splitting open again.

"I was pissed at first," he admitted after a pause, his voice weary. "I didn't wanna start something I was gonna regret, and hurt ya even more. I was tryna cool off for a couple of days before talkin to ya, but it didn't turn out that way." His voice was soft, regretful even. She shook her head, denying him.

"But after all this time?" She asked, her voice small.

"Poor as fuck timing," he grumbled. "I tried, then we got busy. I looked for ya, but the stupid fucks in the force needed a babysitter, and then when I was freed up you got tied up." He sighed, his breath brushing through her locks.

"And then," he said, his voice growing hard as she watched him. His eyes sparked with fire, and his jaw clenched. "I could smell your blood, and you weren't around." His eyes flashed to her wounded face, his brows furrowing as he took in each bruise. He leaned forward to gently nose her black eye, growling as she winced. "That was when I needed ya, needed to know where you were at, but instead I find the fuckface with your head band, drinking himself stupid, and I saw myself right there."

She choked, reaching out to hug him, desperate to right the wrong she had done, but he was shaking his head, grinning sardonically. "So, I did what I've wanted to do to myself for ever laying a hand on ya. Though, he deserves a fuckton worse than he got," he said, his voice quiet.

"I'm so sorry, Gajeel," she whimpered.

"Tch, you were right. But since you're apologizin," he murmured, leaning forward to press his lips against her forehead. "It's my turn to be the forgivin one, eh?" He kissed her again, brushing his nose over the spot he'd kissed.

She was frozen stiff, completely stunned by his actions. She couldn't believe that it happened, that it was still happening as he kissed her nose. When it finally clicked in her mind that it indeed was happening, she sagged in his arms in stunned relief, just as exhausted as she had left the locker-room. But instead of sorrow, a wild happiness was blooming inside her, bright and brilliant as the sun itself.

"After we get ya patched up, I think it's time to start yer trainin," he said, his voice warm and gentle. She looked up at him, confused.

"Ah, I thought you didn-"

"I'll handle the dodgin, Lily'll handle the sparing," he cut in, beating her to the punch. His brow furrowed in annoyance then. "Damn cat nearly tore my head off when I told him about you wantin to train and goin elsewhere." He huffed, pouting so much that she giggled. And giggled.

She was giggling so much it hurt, but it felt so good after so long that she'd be bent over howling if her body would allow it. She knew she looked like a fool, but with the release came more tears, and she couldn't stop laughing, she was beyond happy now.

Her laughing died down after a bit, leaving her limp in his arms, panting from the crazy roller coaster of emotions. She snuggled against his shoulder, content to let him carry her where ever. She could feel the pull of sleep tug at her senses now, so she pulled herself up enough to plant a kiss on his cheek before settling back, succumbing to the irresistible urge.

"Sounds like a plan to me," she murmured, letting go of the last lingering finger of consciousness.