Disclaimer: I do not own Fairy Tail.
It's not my fault I'm a day late. I swear.
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Two. Into Your World
"If the freedom of speech is taken away then dumb and silent we may be led, like sheep to the slaughter."
- George Washington
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He often saw the girl with the red hair. She wasn't hard to miss despite her small stature and half-starved figure.
They used the children to get to low places, small crevices and to fill in the gaps between mud and brick and other elements he cannot name so she was put to work close by. He watches her take a load heavier than what she could carry – she takes it from the tearful blonde boy who is always glued to her side – and is hardly surprised when she trips.
The guards groan and shuffle, quickly agreeing with a game of rock paper scissors which of them should go deal the punishment. The giant walks over to her grumbling about how much he hates kids, grabs her by the back of her dress and hauls her up. He spits some foul words that the grumpy old lady in his cell clipped Wally and himself over the ear for repeating once before throwing her back down.
He hates this whole damn place, but he has learnt the hard way to behave. You have to keep your head down to survive. He is not quite sure what takes over at that moment, but it causes him to abandon his work and every rule set up to hold the slaves down.
"Oi!" the boy yells. "Pick on someone your own size."
"Whatchu say, brat?" the giant scrutinizes him, leering down with mad, bloodshot eyes.
"You heard me! Leave her alone."
The beast of a man backhands him across the cheek, the force knocking him down beside the girl. "Get back to work, feckin' runts."
Jellal rubs the side of his face, pain throbbing from his forehead to the end of his jaw, glowering up at the guard with months' worth of anger and hatred. He bites back the words he wants to shout in retaliation, in rebellion, teeth pressing into his tongue to restrain it. He balls his fingers into his palms; the uneven, broken nails draw blood.
The guard eyes him, insane and fuming. Warning.
"Don't you dare open that mouth of yours. Or I'll rip out yer teeth one by one."
There's a tug on his torn, dirty pants and from the corner of his eye he sees her. All wide, brown eyes and tears threatening to fall. So very small, knees buried in the dust and dirt.
Please don't fight.
Please don't get hurt.
By averting his gaze, Jellal loses the battle and the guard turns and moseys away with an annoyed huff. He looks over her slowly. Up close her hair is scarlet red and the rims of her eyes match like the colour of the poppies his mother used to grow. Like the sky at night that promises sunshine and calm the next day.
She smiles. It is small, but honest and something he thought could never exist in hell.
It is breathtaking.
It deserves to be free, but Jellal is a selfish, selfish boy who wants to keep her close.
He clasps her wrist as he helps her to her feet and she too reaches out to him in order to steady herself. He does not realize that this one touch, burning hot and freezing cold all at once, marks itself onto his skin and that he will still feel it scorching in ten, twenty, thirty years from now. The hold she has on him is unbreakable.
Notes: This actually began as the opening to another one shot that has been sitting in pieces in my folder for a long time. I didn't really go with where the rest of that story was heading, and I think it works better as a standalone fic. But I tweaked it and added more. It's longer than the previous, but it's still really short. I'm sorry.