Hello again! I've done it! As in update in a week. Hopefully I can keep it up!

Thanks for reviewing my work, and I'm really glad to get your feedback. You guys motivate me.

This chapter has some of Juvia's backstory, but I don't want to say what happened to her just yet. Be patient! ;P Also, Natsu makes his appearance (by voice! hahaha I love that guy). I apologize for any OOCness. I'm still a fail at describing character, and I'm working on that in class.

This chapter has my attempts at writing about the feeling of being high on ecstasy. I've never done any drugs, and I've never been high (except on air sometimes haha) so everything here is just my research *cough wikipedia cough* and imagination. Please forgive me if I've written anything terribly wrong. I don't know what ecstasy is like, and I'm very sorry if I've offended you because this is such a sensitive topic.

And so, I present… Chapter 3!

-KingRadish

Two Halves Make a Whole

Chapter 3- December 31st

Note: Molly is another name for ecstasy

She hoped that the blood wouldn't seep through her bandages.

New scars, black and profane, marred her skin. She'd always been wistfully proud of how quickly she recovered from everything life has thrown at her, but this, this was forever.

She wept a little as she stared at her own patchwork body, pieced together from bandages, bruises, and bits of skin so pale it looked translucent. Fragile, she supposed. That's how she looked.

A patchwork doll on the verge of unravelling.

She wondered if he really loved her. Did he? Her mind was swimming with his apologies, caresses, and his destructive love. Did he love her?

She thought not.

ჱ

Gray has always been annoyed by people who talk too much about stupid things.

Maybe that's why he and Natsu have always had a love-hate sort of thing going on. Although he would never admit it, he and the flame-brain were actually quite close. Maybe, if he absolutely had to puta term to it, he would say they were… best friends?

Uh, no. Just no.

As he listened to the pink-haired idiot's incessant babbling about his adventures in Hawaii with a certain blonde, Gray thought again about how much he absolutely hated this guy. If he had a choice, he would probably bash Natsu's head into a wall, he decided. If only he could stick his hand through the screen of his phone and grab that idiot's head.

Heck, the wall would probably break against Natsu's head. Gray chuckled a little in amusement.

"I know, right? It was so funny and Luce was all like, 'let's get over there too'-"

Gray didn't quite catch the rest of what his friend (It's a bit of a stretch, but if love and hate balanced out, then it would probably come to this) was saying because of a knock at the door. Gray promised to thank the angel who had come to save him from Natsu's stupid, stupid stories.

"Oi, squinty-eyes, I gotta go. Someone's at the door."

"Who ya callin' squinty-eyes? You slanty-eye bastard-"

Gray pressed the red button, sighed, and went to the door.

ჱ

She hated him so much, almost as much as she hated herself.

Real life was a bad dream, a cruel nightmare brought on by sobriety. She'd started drinking in high school, and the drugs came soon after. Then her parents had died in an accident and she was all alone, drowning in misery; misery and alcohol, and too many other addictions. Reality followed her like a dark haze, and the only light she found was love.

But even that light was filthy.

There was a good guy among the men whom she loved in college. A good guy-real good man, brilliant student, satisfying lover- except for his need for dominance. His need to reign. She was his mule, and he dominated. He put her through school and rehab, and she let him hurt her.

She left him after she had her Master's, thinking that she would find a job and a lover who loved her too. The jobs were few and far between, and the love… Well, the love was even more caustic. One after another, the men ate her soul. Their love eroded her from the inside until she felt like an empty glass ornament.

That's when she started cutting. Bora came along and stopped that, so she went with him, trailing after his heels like a cur. He hurt her too, but he had a way with words and she always came back to him.

She supposed that was when she reclaimed her addictions. She needed the fuzz of ecstasy and alcohol to cope with the pain. Doing things when she was high was easy, relaxing even. But the lows after the dizzying highs were always the worst.

Bora had been sorry and took her out for a magical day in town on Christmas. Drunk at three different bars and hanging on his arm, she'd felt like a normal person again, weaving in and out through the festive crowds. The joyous atmosphere could make a lonely person lose her mind.

She'd almost forgotten about the abuse, but good dreams never last long.

ჱ

The world was grey. Gray.

She nearly tripped over an uneven jut in the pavement as his face sprung into her mind's eye. The world was spinning dizzily, lazily as it always did when her blood pumped her Molly through her system. Her cells relaxed, and she felt like a new person, different from the cracked China doll she knew she was. She was alive now, and nothing could stop that. She was invincible, unbreakable, a willful spirit wandering the streets of town to walk away the wrongs the world has done to her.

Hadn't he said that he enjoyed her company? Hadn't he called out to her as she left?

She knew she wasn't thinking straight, but her will pushed her forward toward where he lived. He would welcome her, she thought hazily. He was her sanctuary, wasn't he?

She found herself at the doors of his apartment building, where a man held open the door for her and smiled at her. Tears sprung to her eyes again at the small kindness. Not everyone is terrible, she thought as she nodded at him and stepped in.

Not everyone is mean and not everyone is terrible, but for some reason she could only love those who were.

ჱ

"Juvia?"

To say that he was surprised would be an understatement. Of all people, she was the last one he'd expected to see.

Her hair was a mess of blue, once beautiful curls; her clothes were unkempt and wrinkled, as if she'd been sleeping in them and her buttons were grossly mismatched. One of the sleeves were torn, showing a flash of snow-white skin, but the rest of her dark rags covered everything from the neck down.

She looked up, and her eyes widened at his figure in the doorway. "G-Gray-sama?" Her voice was a piteous mewl, like that of an abandoned kitten.

Her face.

"Come in." The cold command in his tone was surprising to himself. She didn't seem bothered and complied meekly.

She'd looked up, and Gray saw the split lip, the black eye, the scratches on her cheeks, and her eyes. Her pupils were size of dimes, and her hazel irises mere rings around those oversized pupils. The unevenness created by her swollen right eye made her look so… damaged. Gray tried to look away from the beautiful girl with all the troubles and bruises, but found himself captivated by her brokenness.

There was something so enticing about the way her eyes lit up at his presence, something so tempting about her marred beauty, something so disgusting and repulsive about how utterly wasted she was that made her all the more beautiful. She was worthless, so worthless and easy to take.

So easy to love, so simple to want.

Hadn't he always wanted someone simple to love after Ultear? She wanted too much, that bitch, and he couldn't provide.

Here was someone easy, a simple girl who looked at him with fondness and admiration. He could simply take her, feed her, love her, and she would not know anything else.

Gray chased away the malicious thoughts like poisonous webs in the dark corners of his mind as he ushered her inside. Here was a broken girl who needed him, and who was he to take advantage of her?

He was trash, really. The worst kind of trash, like that thing he called a father. The worst kind.

Yet there was something undeniably appealing about her, he really couldn't deny it. There was something about her weakness and her failures that made him gravitate toward her. Did he dare admit that she's been on his mind every day since she left? Did he dare admit that he drove across the bridge everyday just to watch for her frail figure against the railing? Did he dare admit that he'd spent the rest of Christmas looking for her?

He was her savior, and she looked to him with everything he'd wanted. She was the confirmation of his achievements, his success, his good character; everything that Ultear failed to see. Ultear who hurt him too long and too deep.

He could get back at her. He could make Juvia shine like the unpolished diamond that she was, and be the successful CEO with the beautiful girl that he'd always wanted to be. It would be easy.

But there was also something about Juvia that he couldn't put his finger on that glittered in those tear-filled eyes that made him want to treasure her.

He closed the door behind her.

"Juvia, what are you-"

"Gray-sama, Juvia wanted to see you." She came closer, her fingers on his arm, gently trailing around its girth and coming to a rest on his chest. "Juvia needed you, but she couldn't come see you. You're the man Juvia needs."

He grabbed her hand, snatching it away from his heart, lest she should feel his racing pulse. "Juvia, I don't know what you're on. You shouldn't do this." He regretted touching her hand almost immediately, when he felt the heat of her porcelain skin against the coolness of his palm.

His mind was racing with the possibilities of the drugs she'd taken. The difference between the withdrawn, quiet girl from Christmas and this aggressive, injured, and undeniably sexy woman was too huge to believe.

"And why not, Gray-sama?" The way she purred his name was too hard to resist.

He let go of her hand and put some distance between them. Cautious distance. He didn't even know what was happening anymore.

"Juvia! What's wrong with you? You're injured!"

"Don't worry, Juvia bandaged herself up already. Juvia's done this too many times, she's used to it. Gray-sama! Won't you touch Juvia?"

Damn. He couldn't keep his eyes off her hips as she sashayed toward him. She kept approaching and he kept losing distance.

He surprised himself when he suddenly backed up into a doorframe. She took the opportunity to walk up to him, running her fingers across his shoulders.

"Juvia just wants to be touched. Please, Gray-sama."

She was so close that he felt her body heat radiating. She was… incredibly hot. In every sense. Why was he denying her again? "No! Juvia, don't do this, I'm begging you."

She paused, as if she contemplated his words then reached a compromise. And suddenly, she seemed shy as she said, "Hug me."

He did.

She was scorching hot, her skin like fire against his. Her body was soft, her breasts (he tried not to think about them) like pillows against his hard chest. Her figure, so luscious, like a flawless hourglass. Her head fit perfectly in the crook of his neck, as if she was made for him; and her height was so perfect to love. And the flutter of her hot breath tickled his ear, sending shivers down his spine and he wanted her. He wanted her.

He laid his head down on her head and smelled roses. Somehow he thought of the blue roses that he used to buy for Ultear. Ultear.

He pushed her away, then ran into his bedroom and locked the door, trying to ignore the disappointment plain on her face.

Sorry, Juvia, I can't be your hero. He thought bitterly, Because I'm just as broken as you are.

How was that? Lemme know! Constructive criticism welcome.