notes— heads up for implied abusive treatment.
edit: accidentally posted as ch26 but... no,,,...,..
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18 ; regret
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He's waiting for her by the school gates and Erza storms past him, not sparing him a glance.
"E-Erza, wait!"
She doesn't — doesn't want to see him, doesn't want to hear what he has to say, doesn't want any of it at all.
But he's following her, keeping pace as she rushes past the open school pitches. She can see the younger students going through their warm-ups for various sports clubs; can imagine a few of them slowing down, pointing and whispering, wondering about the weird third years sprinting by.
Eventually, she has no choice but to confront him and Erza does so like thunder, loud and sudden and a moment too late; she spins around and levels him with a dark glare. "Leave me alone, would you? I want one day to myself, is that too much to ask, Jellal?"
She can taste the lie on her tongue, hear it crackle and fall apart in the air.
"I—" He looks stricken, as if he wasn't expecting her to lash out at him. And why the hell wouldn't I? Erza wants to demand. Why do you think there are no lines you can't cross? "I just wanna... apologise to you," he says hesitantly.
She raises an eyebrow, expression cold. There's a part of Erza that wants to accept that, a huge side of her that feels like she's over-reacting, acting out, not being fair to him because he's trying, isn't he? He's being brave, isn't he? This isn't like her. This isn't in her character, not at all.
But then Lucy's angry words come to the forefront of her mind: if he can forget himself, then you can too, and the burning anger returns tenfold.
"I'm sorry for what I said," Jellal continues. He swallows, seems to steady himself, and then looks her in the eye as if he's been working himself up to this all day. "I didn't mean it, I know it's not true you're asking for it—"
She has to clench her teeth against the sudden burn of tears, and is so thankful that the street they're on right now is usually deserted. "What does it matter if it's true or not? You said it, and now they think it, and—"
"It's not like that, Erza, I swear," Jellal says clumsily. From the way he's squinting against the afternoon sunlight, she guesses he's still hungover, and gets a vindictive pleasure from it. And then hates herself for feeling guilty about it because she's allowed (but also hates herself for thinking it at all, because she didn't have to). Jellal stumbles on, "They were all piss-drunk, they don't remember half the shit that happened, I swear, it didn't even register—"
"You had no right to tell them anything," she cuts him off. "You had no right to say that at all. You told them."
"I know. I know, I'm sorry, I know." He glances away from her for a second and when he looks back there's something cruel in his eyes, something careless. "But you know, it wouldn't have mattered anyway, like... They all have their own shit, their own sob stories." Sob stories, she registers numbly. You're calling my abusive father a sob story. "They get it is all I'm sayin', and I know it wasn't a funny joke, I just— Erza, I was so drunk, I was half out of my mind, I had no idea the rubbish I was spouting—"
"That's not the point, Jellal!" She cringes at the hint of hysteria in her voice. Erza works to tone it down; she doesn't want him to see this, doesn't want him to know, doesn't want any of it at all. Because this is what happens when he knows; this is what he does. But all she can do is repeat herself: "That's... That's not the point at all..."
"I'm sorry," he repeats, staring at the ground. "I didn't mean to."
She exhales shakily. She doesn't know what to say... so she says just that, and walks away, leaving him standing by the road watching her retreating form.
The words she didn't say, couldn't say, maybe refused to say come to her much later; curled up in bed, staring at her phone screen for a message that will never come. How can I trust you with my heart when you can't even trust yourself with your mouth?
And the truth of it is terrifying. In that moment, if Erza could take it back, she would. If she could take it all back—
But it's redundant. He already knows the secrets she doesn't want him to tell. He already thrown it all away. So she puts her phone on her bedside table and rolls over to face the wall. Doesn't bother turn it to silent. Erza knows she won't be getting any texts tonight.
Some things you give once, and can never take back.