Author's notes: At last! it's so hard to write a chapter when all you want to do is write the one AFTER that :D but I'm satisfied anyway and I hope you will be too ^.^
It's the usual: I do not own it. I swear I don't.
From the other side
#3 Heart attack
Gazille liked is job. Thanks to it, he came to meet interesting people, solved crimes and mysteries, learned more than school could ever teach him and shared information and truth with the population of the royal city.
Of course, this job also came with some more unpleasant sides. Over the years, he had made many enemies among influent people and groups that disliked the idea of seeing him snoop in their businesses. He no longer counted the number of times he had been threatened, bullied, punched, kicked or thrown ( in garbage, mostly ) since he was a freelance writer. But those things never stopped him from pursuing his career, they only fueled his curiosity and his sense of justice.
However, there was one thing that Gazille could not put up with. One thing that was, in his eye, the only real nightmare there was, compared to all of those things he had experienced before.
That thing was happening to him at this precise moment.
Writer block.
The tall afro-haired ruby-eyed man didn't curse often. Actually, he was living by the rules of the gentleman's code and a gentleman did not use crude language. However, the code never said he didn't have the right to think all those juicy forbidden words that were expressing his most honest thoughts about the thing sitting tauntingly on his desk, fixing him with its horrible lack of being. The mind-numbing, overwhelming, soul-sucking white page of doom, innocently inserted in his trustworthy typewriter, was making fun of the oblivion invading the space of his poor brain. He was presently in the middle of a staring contest with that vile white piece of paper, drilling holes in its fibers until a flash, an idea, even just a tiny little word would come to his mind that would free him from this mental torture. He had not moved an inch since he had sat in front of his desk, his eyes were glued to the offending item, not a blink had occurred for a long time as he was immersing in his terrible lack of inspiration that slowly consumed his-
" -Oi, you're daydreaming. "
The man, usually so calm and proper, jumped side way in a fraction of a second, climbing on top of his desk as a loud scream of terror echoed in the little apartment he lived in, scaring the crap out of him. He needed a second to let his brain register that he had been the one screaming at the top of his lungs and then, another second to realize that the voice that had spoken at a millimeter of his ear belonged to a certain vertically-challenged, blue-haired, pretty-faced young woman that was standing in his living room and was laughing her (very cute ) butt off at his expense. She was holding her stomach while watching him perched like some huge curly black bird on his desk, tears pooling at the corner of her eyes.
" Wow! " She was having a hard time talking, laughing and breathing at the same time, " you almost touched the ceiling! "
A shaking hand flattened over his chest, his eyes wide in shock as he whispered for himself:
" I almost died. "
Levy reduced her laughing to some giggles, wiping the tears at her eyes with a finger. Gazille took a couple of big inspirations to calm down his heartbeat while climbing down his desk and discreetly checking his pants to see if he had not released some unwanted substances back then. Clean. Good. Because dirtying yourself in front of a lady was not approved by his code.
The bluenette put both hands on her hips, cocking her head side way and giving him a brillant smirk:
" You know, Smart Eyes, I've been standing in your living room for fifteen minutes already. You never lifted your eyes of that typewriter the whole time. "
The man rubbed the nape of his neck, his cheekbones tinted pink. She made an head gesture toward his desk:
" And I ain't a professional at this but I'm pretty sure you would type faster if you used your fingers. "
She snickered at her own joke while he offered an explanation:
" I was looking for inspiration, actually. What about you, Miss Levy? To what do I own the pleasure of having you in my house? "
He smiled and was pleasantly surprised to notice her rub her arm nervously, it made her look quite cute and he was pretty sure she would get mad at him if he told her such a thing. He honestly didn't want her to run away because, as cheesy as this sounded, he had missed her in the two days he hadn't seen her and he was far from being unpleased by her presence in his home, even if he was kinda curious of how she found out where he lived.
She recovered from whatever embarrassment she had felt and pointed at a bag sitting on his tiny breakfast bar:
" I'm here to work on your motorcycle. I would have come yesterday but shit happened at the guild. "
" Really? " He raised an eyebrow, he had no idea what he had expected her to answer but he hadn't thought that it would be that.
" What? Don't tell me you lied about your bike 'cause I'm gonna-"
" No, no, " he waved his hands, " I do have one but I hadn't expected you to come for that so soon. "
" Well, " she looked to the side, " I don't like to owe people so the faster I work on it, the faster we'll be even. "
He frowned at her but his lips were lifted in a smirk:
" You know that you're not indebted to me, Miss Levy. "
She sighed:
" Don't make me hit you, Four Eyes. "
Gazille glanced at the female sitting beside him in the backyard of his living complex, her hands busy dismantling important pieces of the motorcycle in front of them. Her eyes never left the metal parts that were sprawled all around her, a smile on her lips as she worked her magic. He had absolutely no knowledge about mechanic and all those things so he was pretty much only good at giving her the tools she requested. On the other hand, that also gave him plenty of time to observe her.
Her hair were tied in two little pigtails behind her ears, she wore a black bandana with little skulls on it and matching skull earrings. His eyes travelled lower to her slender neck and petite shoulders who were left exposed since she was wearing a small-strapped tank top. It was true that her chest was far from being very eye-catching however she was easily compensating that point with her waist and hips, especially the curve of her lower back, dipping in the shorts that molded her butt. Her legs were far from being unappealing neither and her skin looked quite soft in spite of her character.
She waved her hand toward him, palm up, and asked something he didn't understand without leaving her work from view. He quickly stopped staring and asked her to repeat, hoping she hadn't seen him ogle:
" I said: gimme the spanner. " Her brown eyes met his, a smirk on her lips. " Are you dreamin' again? "
He cleaned his throat and started digging in the bag:
" Hum, yes, I was... thinking about what to write. The newspaper that published my article wants me to write another one but I've been stuck since then. " He picked up a tool. " Is that it? "
" No, that's a ratchet. That's why you were all zombie-like earlier?"
" Indeed, they are expecting another scoop and honestly, I don't know if I can find something as good as what I wrote before. Scammers don't necessarily fall from the sky. "
She hummed in approval.
" You could just -that's a screwdriver, silly. "
" I know that. " He made somewhat of a grimace, she snickered and watched him search in the bag again.
" You could just make up something. "
He took out the right tool this time and handed it to her, his face serious:
" I always write the truth, always did and always will. "
She shrugged as she accepted the spanner and went back to work:
" Hey, I'm just trying to help ya. "
" I know, thank you. "
He sighed as he bent backward, resting his body weight on his hands and lifting his eyes to the sky. It hadn't helped that the person to his right was partly responsible for his lack of concentration. He hadn't felt attracted to a lot of women in his life but he knew enough to recognize a crush when he got one. The most surprising, this time, was that Levy was far from being the type of woman he used to fall for. They were usually more cultured, intellectual and reserved and now that he thought about it, quite boring in comparison to the petite fearless fairy. Maybe that was what made her appealing: she was so fresh, so wild, so spontaneous that he was like a moth in front of a flame.
He felt a slap on his chest, he brought his face back down and met the blue-haired beauty.
" You're such an air head, today, " she said with a smile. " Come on, get up, it's time to try it! "
" Already? " He was amazed to see that she had indeed put back some kind of motor inside the previously present hole in the vehicle. It seemed to be connected to a battery.
" You work fast, you're amazing, Miss Levy. " He stood up while checking over the motorcycle, having watched his partner's reaction instead, he would have seen a small woman beet red in the face who muttered a little Shut up.
Two beautiful women walked side by side near a park, both of them coming back from shopping. The first one was white-haired, tall and wearing a long pink dress while her slightly younger friend had long dark blue hair and was dressed in a short blue dress. However, they had one thing in common: both of them were members of Fairy Tail.
The two females were chatting pleasantly when, not too far in front of them, they witnessed one of the strangest thing they had seen in a long time. In the street across the one they were walking on, a motorcycle flew ( yes, flew! ) at full speed, its driver holding the handles like his life depended on it, which was probably the case considering he was also screaming for help. The unfortunate man disappeared from view behind a building and they could only guess that he had crashed since a loud boom echoed from there. In spite of the quite unusual scene they had just witnessed, their real surprise was to see a short blue-haired woman they knew very well running the same path as the motorcycle and yelling:
" Shit! Are you okay? "
The dark blue-haired woman, Wendy, was the first to speak:
" Mira-san, was that Levy-san, just now? "
They both got closer to peek behind the building where they could clearly see Levy bent over a tall black-afro-haired man sitting in the grass. The motorcycle was bent and there was smoke coming out of it.
" I think so. That's Gazille-san with her. "
Mirajane and Wendy looked at each other, both of them wide eyed in front of such a strange event. But the barmaid stunned face morphed into an happy one the more she watched what was happening between the writer and the little fairy.
" I told you to go EASY on it, not full speed ahead. "
" I WENT easy on it, " he stood up. " I barely touched the handles. You made them way too sensitives. "
The argument went on for a couple more seconds until the motorcycle's battery exploded which made them both jump in fright and fetch something to put out the fire.
Wendy shook her head in astonishment:
" Wow. Now that was... uhm... "
" Cute. " Mirajane chuckled, giving herself a mental tap on the shoulder for being right about Levy's new special friend. They were on the right track, if seeing them start laughing at the burning vehicle was any indication.
End notes: awww and now, that's the part where I'm proud of me :3 I'll be able to feed my plot bunnies in the next chapters, thank you again for all the reviews and faves, it's awesome!