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24 ; entropy
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It's getting worse. That much she understands.
"Don't worry about me," Jellal always says, smiling his stupid quiet smile and trying to hide that stupid wince and always, always, always failing. In and out of the hospital, in and out, always in and out, never staying in once place, never staying together, only ever just falling apart, imploding...
"Erza? ...Erza. Erza!"
"S-Sorry," she stammers, tightening her hand around the phone. "You were saying?"
Gray stays silent on his end for a moment, but his lack of response has enough judgement in it as it is.
She sighs and switches the phone to her other ear. "Sorry, I just zoned out."
"I get it," he says. "It's okay."
Do you get it though? Do you really? Erza wants to ask. And that is the sign that she has been alone in this apartment for far too long, because the bitterness is building up inside her and she knows— she just knows that she needs to get out.
"Let's meet up this week," she says impulsively. "All four of us. We can go out, do something crazy, or just grab a drink, water. But let's all meet up."
He laughs at that, no hesitation. "Hell yes. I'm buying you at least three drinks, and you can't—"
"Gray—!"
"And you can't say no!" he finishes, smirk clear in his voice. "Damn it, Erza, let us spoil you a little. That's what friends are for, right?"
She smiles a genuine smile, and it feels wonderful on her lips. Good, and alien. "If you say so."
"I do."
"Good."
"Good."
They both crack up. The weight on her shoulders feel ten tonnes lighter.