A/N: *flops*

Here's the new chapter! I have decided that I will add a bonus chapter and it will be completely in Natsu's 'point of view' (third-person of course). It's earlier, as promised! I'm gonna post this on my tumblr since my account is just gathering dust. Might as well use it for Fanfics since my personal life is bleh at the moment.

And since a new chapter means a new attempt and a new attempt means a different day... we're not starting off from last chapter! Yay! *hides behind shield* I give you permission to give me– ahem, my shield your best shot, but just know that I at least need my hands to type and my eyes to see! You'll—hopefully—get some closure and a little bit of what happened last chapter in this one.

I needed drama people!

But anyway, enjoy and as always, see you in the next one! -808Lionfire

Disclaimer: Fairy Tail (c) Hiro Mashima

Seven Attempts to Fall

Attempt Five: 28 December x791, 11:14 a.m.

Judging by the pattern, it was Levy's turn.

The first attempt to hook her up could be chalked up to the tiny bluenette—and her forever grumpy boyfriend, Lucy supposed—and the third time was definitely Levy's work whereas the second attempt was definitely Juvia's and the Christmas party was hers as well. Which, by the way, she was still upset with the long-haired bluenette about, but forgave her because they were only trying to look out for her.

Nevertheless, the golden-haired woman wanted to believe that after the train-wreck at the Christmas party, they would get the hint that it just wouldn't work out between her and the pin– er, she means salmon-haired man. She hoped that the other person on the other end of this twisted ball of yarn would say something to them because her word alone wasn't working. And she was nearly one-hundred-percent positive that he was enjoying this as much as she was (note the sarcasm).

Maybe they'd just give up on the hare-brained idea all together. Or, if they still wanted to cling to this weird fantasy that she and the salmon-haired man would be a good mach for each other, she wished they'd at least be a bit more subtle about it. In fact, she wished that they'd be so subtle that she would barely even notice their attempts at all. Levy obviously didn't agree.

If anything, the golden-haired woman believed the word 'subtlety' was no longer in the bluenette's dictionary.

Honestly. If asking the blonde to follow her before practically shoving her into a dark, cramped closet—with strength Lucy really shouldn't find surprising anymore and with the stranger she always seems to find herself in awkward situations with—wasn't an obvious indicator, Lucy honestly did not know what was.

Complete insanity possibly?

Well, whatever it was, it doesn't change the fact that she had barely exchanged words outside of 'I'm sorry' with this man and the fact that they... well, it just shouldn't make a difference. Now they were in an incredibly cramped broom-closet. Which– by the way, was barely three-by-four feet in total. And if those dimensions were hard to picture, imagine this:

Despite the darkness, she knew his arms caged her head between them, pressing against the wall that chilled her back. His breath was hot against her lips, each smooth puff of air had her closing her eyes to stop her traitorous hormones from raging. The heat of his skin occasionally brushed against the tip of her ears, making her shudder and blush shamefully because she liked it. Her ears for stars' sake!

She wanted to curse herself out because she just told herself that she wasn't going to fall for this kind of stuff anymore.

And to make matters even worse! Every breath she took involuntarily brushed her chest against his; she was forced to take shallow breaths each time she breathed and make it look like she was getting enough air. She didn't think it worked and they both knew it. In pitted compensation, they silently compromised into a position that should've been less awkward.

But who where they kidding? Really. Is there actually a position in a cramped, locked broom-closet (with a man whom she clearly shared an air of sexual-tension with) where things wouldn't be awkward? Because if there was, she surely would've loved to hear it. The hot air from their shifty moment under the mistletoe two days ago still hung thickly between them and she honestly thought she was going to faint under the heat.

After she realized that she was stuck under the cursed plant that hung from entrance of the living-room, the golden-haired woman opened her mouth to refuse. There was no way she was going to kiss some guy she barely even knew; completely disregarding the fact that they all knew him somehow and trusted him enough to even think about it. Lucy guiltily admits she had shared a drunken kiss with strangers before, but those have been far and few between in her twenty-sum years of living.

So it wasn't like she wanted to refuse because she didn't understand the concept. It was just that her kisses are important to her, no matter how vain that might sound. She's not just going to give her kisses out because of some dumb Christmas tradition involving parasitic weeds that grow on fruit trees. Even so, it still hurt when the salmon-haired man played it off like it was no big deal– like kissing a near stranger would be just as easy as breathing.

But he really didn't mean it like that.

She had been too busy staring up at the mistletoe earlier to have noticed the tautness to his shoulders as he carefully eyed the mortified expression on her face; her mind was too full of refusal to notice the way he sent a harsh glare to each one of the culprits before resigning himself the task to brush the situation off like it was pointless.

It was a matter of pride now and it was probably that stubborn pride that forced her to hook her fingers in his scale-pattered scarf and drag him down to press her lips hastily against his. Despite the anger and hurt boiling in her veins, she couldn't help noticing the heat his lips offered willingly. The warmth somehow counter-acting the boiling in her veins and left it to a low simmer; the emotions were still there, but more of an exasperation than a loathing.

Maybe the laugh she gave before she fled from him was a little too harsh– a little too hurt than she would've liked it to be. Thankfully not a lot of the others caught on to it. She knew Juvia saw past the smile she plastered on her face and it showed even more when the bluenette nearly sobbed herself to oblivion after she started to apologize later that night on the phone.

Lucy did her best to calm her friend down. She told the bluenette that everything was going to be fine but it was safe to say that she didn't bother to stay around the salmon-haired man after that and she had successfully avoided him. Until now, where she was literally forced into a closet with him by her best friend. Still, she tried to ignore every time his fingers accidentally brushed against her hip.

The golden-haired woman refused to believe the heat that shot through her veins every time it did and cursed her traitorous heart for wistfully wishing that his hand lingered longer than it seemed to.

A long time ago, she learned that the best way to avoid things she didn't want to talk about was to feign innocence and Lucy was quite the actress. Multiple times, the blonde had managed to even convince her friends but they knew her too well. But this man, only knowing each other for a little over what? A month? Two maybe? And they never once shared an exchange that would even be considered as the smallest form of a decent conversation?

Lucy was too tired to argue.

So naturally, it was only right to feign ignorance.

As per usual, the golden-haired woman apologized profusely for her best friend's obnoxious meddling. It took a curiously long minute before the salmon-haired man just guffawed good-naturedly—as usual—before he told her to back up. She did so wordlessly and tilted her head when he started to fiddle with the door handle. It was only a few moments later when one part of the surprisingly heavy, metal handle hit the hardwood floor of the closet and then simulated a similar, but duller sound on the carpeted flooring in the hallway.

Artificial light from the fluorescent lightbulbs in the hallway washed into the dark room when the door swung. The sudden change in brightness temporarily caught her off-guard and made her eyes water. Unfortunately, the effect of the lights dulled in comparison to the blinding smile he gave her; the sight reminiscent the the moments they shared before the Christmas party.

Her stomach churned almost painfully and all she could do to stay strong was rip her gaze away to stare down at their feet. She didn't even bother to ask about the questionable way he managed to get them out and instead uttered a small 'thank you' before fleeing once again.

Lucy desperately tried to ignore the way her heart still throbbed just by the sight of his smile or how her chest warmed whenever she heard him speak. Unfortunately, the attempts were futile. There was no stopping the way her toes curled just at his nearness or the way her body heated to the point of unbearable when she felt his piercing olive-orbs watch her flee. This man made her feel things without even trying.

She doesn't know how she should feel about that.