Rain pelted the glass of Erza's bedroom window and she sighed. As much as she loved the rain, she was anxious and the weather felt like a cage. The whole day had been one big drag and she couldn't pinpoint the exact reason why.

Part of it was the flower box under her window that had flooded over; ruining the fresh soil she'd added herself the previous weekend. Another frustration was the long slump between programs – Erza and Jellal had a regular schedule of competitions plus the shows their dance academy hosted. The previous winter they'd actually been asked to perform in the Crocus Ballet's adaptation of The Nutcracker. Erza still felt a thrill of excitement whenever she recalled the opening night.

She also supposed the new boy at school played a role in her foul mood. Simon was overly nice to her and suffocating in a way she both understood and did not. He liked her according to Mirajane Strauss – a self-proclaimed expert on the motives and minds of boys. On one hand she enjoyed the idea of a boy liking her but on the other, Simon made it hard to breathe.

The rain sluiced over the windowpanes and muddled the whole world. Clouds hung low and grey, and the street lamps looked like fuzzy balls of yellow. Erza's mind strayed back to Simon and the concept of romance. She didn't think she cared for the way he hovered. Instead, she thought she preferred the kind of love her mother shared with Anna, something constant and comforting. Something that felt natural but at the same time thrilling. Erza's head rolled to the side and her fingers strayed into the points of blue just visible over the edge of the bed. She wondered what Jellal thought of things like romance and love. Did he think of them at all?

Her thoughts were derailed when Jellal turned around suddenly and folded his arms on the surface of her bed.

"I heard my parents talking last night."

"About what?" she asked absently.

"My dad's going away this summer. I don't think he's ever been gone for so long before." He sighed and picked at the quilting pattern of her blanket. "The house will be so quiet."

Erza's heart thudded painfully in her chest. The spark of unease poisoning her day, flared. She'd been putting the conversation off for days but now it couldn't be avoided.

"I'm going away this summer, too," Erza whispered. Jellal's wide green eyes met hers and she could feel the disappointment in them. "I meant to tell you. I'm sorry."

"Why are you sorry?"

"Because you'll be lonely and now your dad is leaving, too."

Jellal shrugged but it was slow, and jerky. She thought it was forced.

"I'll be alright, Erza, you don't have to feel bad." He climbed up and into her bed to stretch out beside her. "Where are you guys going?"

"It's just me," Erza said with a sigh. "I want to go to a gymnastics camp. They'll teach me how to jump and flip and stuff like that." Her skin tingled with excitement despite her morose mood. "I really can't wait."

"That sounds great! When you come home you'll know all kinds of new stuff!"

Erza suddenly sat up. An idea was percolating in her mind and she couldn't believe she hadn't thought of it before. "Maybe you should come too," she blurted.

"To gymnastics camp?"

"Yeah, I mean, unless you have other plans…" she trailed off and glanced back at him over her shoulder. He was still on his back with his arms folded behind his head. Finally, he grinned at her.

"I don't have plans."

"Your mom might have plans."

"She does but they mostly have to do with that old ballet studio she's got downtown. Her desk at home is covered in paint swatches and flooring samples."

Erza settled back against the pillows and Jellal rolled over on his side to face her.

"Do you think she'll mind if you come with me?"

"Probably not. I'll ask."

"I really am sorry for not telling you. We're a team, Jellal."

"We are." He reached over to touch the tuft of her braid that draped over her shoulder. "But you don't have to be sorry. Even if the camp is full, I'm not upset."

"I don't think I could stand it if you were mad at me," she murmured.

"Erza, it would take a lot for me to get really mad at you. You'd have to… I don't know…"

"Shave off my hair?" she said jokingly.

"I think that would just make me sad." He smiled again and tucked his hands under the pillows. Thunder rolled in the distance and the sound of raindrops hitting the window surged. "This rain is making me sleepy."

"You can take a nap if you want." Erza's eyes flit to the clock on the table over Jellal's shoulder. "Your mom won't be here for another two hours."

Jellal yawned. "She always says I never used to take naps until she became friends with your mom."

"Sorry I make you so tired." Erza sat up and crawled to the end of the bed and tugged the shade down over the window. The only light left in her room was the soft glow from the table lamp. "I guess I made us both tired this time."

"I finished my homework, it's fine."

Jellal drifted away before her and she watched his chest expand and collapse. The rain drowned out the sounds of his breathing.


Anna slid into the driver's seat of her car and her lips spread into a wicked grin. Eileen clicked her seatbelt into place and flipped her sunglasses down from the top of her head.

"Well?" she asked, heaving a deep breath.

"No kids for three weeks!" Anna twisted the key in the ignition and switched the air conditioner on. "What do you say to a little day drinking?"

"You're such a lush." Eileen laughed.

"Oh, come on," Anna insisted. "Live a little. You aren't even performing for another month and you took a week off at the teashop. Let's get buzzed at that new tapas café around the corner from your building and then walk back."

"It's been ages since I've had carbs and a real margarita." Eileen sighed and pointed an air vent at her face. "Let's do it."


Anna chose a table on the patio and Eileen decided the afternoon sun loved the pile of golden hair on her head – and, apparently, their exposed cheeks. Their table lacked an umbrella and Eileen could feel the tightening of her skin with sunburn. Anna did a little more than get a buzz. She polished off a bottle of white moscato on her own but Eileen limited herself to three margaritas.

With a stomach full of tapas and tequila mixer, Eileen pulled Anna away from the café. They took the half-block walk home hand in hand. The sun was setting and Anna's eyes were still wide. Her gait was sloppy and her laugh, loose. Eileen couldn't ever remember feeling so unencumbered – despite not being completely drunk herself.

Anna said nothing once they entered the apartment building and didn't release Eileen's hand until the door clicked shut behind them. She spun around the living room and fell into the couch.

"Come sit by me," Anna said, patting the cushion next to her. Eileen kicked off her sandals and obeyed. Anna sighed deeply. "Do you ever feel like you're right on the edge of something big?"

"That's a heavy question for a day like this," Eileen said with a light laugh.

"I'm gonna tell Acnologia I want him to sign the studio downtown over to me." Anna plucked a strand of Eileen's hair from her shoulder and twisted it between her fingers. "The remodel will take ages but I want this."

"You deserve this, Anna," Eileen whispered. "You've done everything you said you were going to do. You quit the troupe, you went back to school, and you graduated. I have no doubt you'll follow through on the rest of it."

"I'm always worrying," she said, sighing before suddenly laughing. "Sorry I'm just drunk."

"Do you think he'll tell you no?" Eileen pressed. "About the building, I mean?"

"No. But he won't offer it. I'll need to ask. The deed is in his name." Anna's body grew heavier against her side as the sunlight crept across the floor into twilight shadow. "I don't think he ever considers things I might want. Not stuff like this. He knows I'll bring it up or just do it myself."

"I'm sorry, Anna."

"Don't be. He just isn't wired for marriage." Anna smiled at her and leaned in for a kiss. "I don't want to talk about my husband," she whispered. "Should we go to the bedroom?"

"Are you kidding?" Eileen asked, pulling her own shirt over her head and then Anna's. "We're on vacation. I think a proper fuck on the couch is called for."

Anna laughed and Eileen thought it the smoothest sound she'd ever heard. It paired nicely with the smooth skin beneath her palms.


Anna tapped her fingernails against the top of the steering wheel. Acnologia's car still sat in the garage but she knew he'd be gone by the end of the day – and would remain so until late August. If she wanted to have the ballet studio discussion, she'd need to have it now. Eileen had kissed her goodbye that morning with a promise to meet her for dinner later. Anna had then driven herself home with sweaty palms and a clenched jaw.

It wasn't that she thought her husband would deny her. Or even that he'd give her a hard time. She just didn't like acknowledging how they were chained to one another in the eyes of every legal entity in existence regardless of how either one of them felt about it. Their wedding day had been large, expensive, and traditional – just like their families. At the end of the day her father had shaken the hand of her new husband's father in mutual congratulations on a deal well struck. Anna and Acnologia had awkwardly consummated their marriage and then proceeded to live as separate lives as possible while still maintaining a single household – Jellal being the only real emotional tie between them.

With a heavy breath, Anna finally stepped from her car. The house was mostly silent. She left her bag and keys in her private office and sought out her husband. As predictable as ever, she found him in the sitting room outside his bedroom. Acnologia stood just as tall and stoic as he did the day she'd married him. His profile revealed a smoking cigar but it didn't look as if he'd taken many puffs off it. Anna knocked softly on the doorframe and he glanced back at her over his shoulder.

"I apologize for the smoke," he said softly. "I know you hate it."

"I don't hate it," Anna countered, shrugging. Though she was still jittery with nerves, she invited herself into the small sitting room.

"Truly?" Acnologia's speech was heavily accented and Anna could admit that she'd been romanced by it when they were first introduced. She might've loved him in another life where they weren't exactly themselves. "Had I known you did not hate it, I would not have been so careful to smoke only out of doors all these years."

"Well, at the very least, the real estate agent who manages this house one day will be grateful. I hear cigar smoke is horrible for walls."

He laughed in a low baritone and clipped the end of the cigar. "You are in a humorous mood. I like it."

"I don't think I've heard you laugh in a long time, Acnologia," Anna said quietly, perching on the edge of a loveseat.

"I've become far more expressionless than I ever intended." He took a seat in a chair across from her. "I assume Jellal made it on the bus yesterday?"

"He did."

"Good."

"He said you took him to the pier on Saturday."

Acnologia sighed. "I regret such a lengthy trip but it cannot be helped. He is still so young and I miss too much."

"He doesn't resent you for it," Anna whispered. "He's ten and old enough to know you love him."

"Perhaps –" His mouth softened into something wistful. "Perhaps Jellal is the best part of me. He is lively and passionate about the things he loves. Or maybe that's what he gets from you?"

"Jellal is steadfast and understands commitment. That's all from you, Acnologia."

"How is your paramour? I see her name on the posters downtown."

Anna flushed. "She's worked hard for the recognition. She has the discipline and heart for ballet." Her fingers twisted over one another and she blew out a breath. "I know it's not my business but have you found a lover? There are parts of you worth loving."

"It is kind of you to say so, Anna, but I do not know that love – romance – is a thing I will ever have in this life. You… were always mismatched with me in that regard. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. We haven't suffered and our son is perfect." Anna suddenly sat up straight. "I need to ask something of you."

"Anything."

"That old ballet studio downtown, the one below all those empty offices…" she trailed off and rallied herself. "I want it."

Acnologia raised an eyebrow but said nothing.

"I want to renovate it and run it. I want my own dance academy or maybe my own troupe." Anna shook her head in frustration. "I don't know yet but –"

"I wil have my assistant draw up the papers for you this week. If you need an assistant of your own to handle the minutiae for you, that can be arranged, as well. The whole building is yours."

Anna felt her eyes well with unshed tears. "Really?"

"Of course. The tax is paid by the trust." Acnologia suddenly stood, crossed the room, and disappeared into his office.

Anna swiped at the tears on her cheeks and tried to swallow her excitement. The whole building! She'd only been after the first floor but now the possibilities were unlimited. When Acnologia returned he clutched a legal sized envelope. He cleared his throat and handed it to her.

"What's this?" Anna asked, confused. She picked at the folded brad and pulled papers from the envelope. Acnologia sat on the low table in front of the loveseat.

"When my father passed away two years ago I secured a highly specialized attorney," he began with an uncomfortable frown. "I do not want to bore you with details, and I intended to save this for our… anniversary but –" Acnologia gestured at the papers. "Now seems like a good time."

Anna's eyes swept over the pages and she blinked rapidly. "These… these are divorce papers."

"They are."

"But, I thought –"

"Our fathers are long dead, Anna," he whispered. "The trust was drafted at peak arrogance. I cannot guess at how it was overlooked but they failed to provide certain stipulations after their deaths. I have done my best to untangle the trust and the holdings and the businesses and –" He shook his head and sighed. "Well, the crux of the matter is that you can be free of this marriage."

"What does this mean?"

"In legal terms it means you can do whatever you wish. If you wanted to live elsewhere or marry another, you're free to do that." He cleared his throat and covered his knees with his hands. "If you wanted to stay here, I would not stop you. As far as I am concerned, this is a home that belongs to us both, and Jellal."

"This is a lot to take in," Anna breathed. "I never thought –"

"I wish for your happiness, Anna. Our son is… intuitive. I do not think he will suffer if we divorce and I am glad he can look to you for an example of what love should be."

"You're a good father, Acnologia. Don't ever think –"

"I was not speaking of paternal love, Anna." Acnologia glanced at his wristwatch and stood. "I have a plane to catch."

"Right. Of course."

"The divorce paper haven't been filed yet," he said, pulling a suit jacket on over his pale, lavender button up shirt. "I wanted you to have time to consider what you want. I will not fight you on anything. You have my assistant's contact point for the studio, and you have my personal number for… well… this."

For the first time in more years than Anna could count he leaned in and brushed her cheek with a kiss.

"Thank you," she whispered as he left her behind in his sitting room. Anna's eyes slid from his open door to the closed window. It wasn't until the phone in her pocket started vibrating and didn't stop that she realized the sun had set.