Note:

Flashbacks and thoughts in italics.

I do not condone or encourage any behaviours in this story. It is simply a fictional story.


CHAPTER 8


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Juvia slipped out of Jellal's hold, moving towards the bed. She propped one knee over it and pulled her shirt over her head. Jellal stared at her bare bottom, biting his lip as he stood behind her, touching the tip of his index finger to the fold where her ass met the back of her thighs. Did you know you have a beauty spot here? It's lovely." He chuckled.

She swatted his hand off, quickly pulling her shorts over her legs. "I do? I wanna see it."

"I'll take a picture," she said, shaking her head in disbelief.

"Don't."

He dropped the phone he'd been holding, tut-tutting in frustration. "Fine."

The framed photograph on the bedside table glowed somberly in the low light. Jellal was about to switch off the floor lamp when the nostalgic faces caught his eye. His features hardened, and his knuckles clenched white as he fought the urge to grab the offensive image and fling it across the room. Juvia walked up and down the room, her head bent as she tied her hair into a bun. If it weren't for her, he would've let his emotions run rampant, free of inhibitions. He could've broken the stupid image and stomped on the debris, just like he had done with the other photos. A few days ago, he had burned the remnants of the haunting past in the woods near the sunflower fields, where he slumped against a rock in the clearing. It was dusk when the last of these haunting memories turned to ash under his brooding gaze. He did not understand why his eyes had become moist or why the smile on his face felt shaky.

Juvia looked at herself in the mirror with a satisfied smile. Many stones blushed warmly in a small glass cup on Jellal's dresser. She didn't ask what they were; she had learned much.

Black magic had been legalized during the post-war revolution, yet it was still frowned upon. Families akin to the Fernandezes and Dragneels weren't scrutinized; their sins went unnoticed among the many things they had to be proud of. Black Hex was a black magic business, and Juvia knew the trinkets in Jellal's room might be more than just glowing kernels or souvenirs. Even though black magic was legal, there was more to it than met the eye. Such an amendment had legalized many shady activities under its name. Since it was a risky business, the organization was famously known for its giant collection of gemstones, not for what it truly represented.

She sat on his lap and played with the buttons on his shirt. "White looks good on you."

He smirked, snatching the hand crawling down his chest and bringing it to his head, where she traced soothing patterns on his scalp. "We should sleep. You told me you had work tomorrow."

"We should." Juvia cuddled up to her husband's side as he pulled the sheets over their heads.

She playfully kisses his jaw. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Juvia."


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What happens when you have both Jellal and Gray together in one kitchen? Carrots fly, tomatoes explode like mines, pickles splash, and peppers blast around like ammo. Gray sneers, a promise of war glinting in his eyes. "You wanted a monster. You've got one now."

"Oh, dear nephew, who said you weren't one already? Don't pretend to be the good guy here." Gray grabs his youthful uncle by the collar of his shirt, or so he thinks, before slipping on ketchup and crashing ungracefully to the floor. He doesn't give up, though. He grabs some eggs, launching them at Jellal's face. They bounce back like a "Stink, and Let Stink!" cataclysm, while Jellal retaliates by vaulting over to the brunette. He prances onto the counter, gliding across it like a skater, and then plunges from there, knees dropping at lightning speed, knocking the air out of Gray's lungs.

"Stop. Are you trying to kill each other?" Midnight's wise voice cuts through their groans and grunts.

"Well, can't you see? I'm trying so hard to dislocate his head," Gray wheezes out, despite Jellal pressing his feet over his jaws to try to shut him up. Damn. He thought he was winning this fight. It's the ketchup. The ketchup ruined everything! Until now, he had never hated a sauce with such fiery passion.

"Mind your words. I'm the one who's dislocating yours." However, with age came experience, and Jellal was older.

"And then what, go to jail? Are you out of your mind, Jellal? Do you have any idea what you're doing? Cut it out. Stop acting like children. What a disgrace!" Okay, now Midnight is starting to sound like his father. Although it did not seem like they were trying to relive their childhoods, they were no doubt trying to choke each other to death.

"He just married Juvia... She does not belong here!" Even Gray knew his claims made absolutely no sense. What's the matter with him?

"Agh. You don't decide that when you don't even have a proper job!" That was not true. Gray was working for an agency, but Jellal was not bluffing with his words. "So, keep my wife's name out of your mouth!" He proceeds to slap Gray like Will Smith at the Oscars.

He slaps left and right; Gray cannot turn because all he sees are twinkling stars. He faintly hears when Midnight threatens to call the police and fears Jellal messed with his ears. Once the weight lifts from his waist where Jellal had been straddling him, Gray sucks in a long gulp of air; the vacuum cleaner cannot compete. The rascal who slapped him was running around like a headless chicken because Midnight does what he says. When Jellal snatches the phone, he is only a fingertip away from 911. Gray does not take part in the negotiation. His jaws were not shut. They were padlocked. It felt like he quick-froze them in an attempt to sweeten the slaps.


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A woman sat on the chair. Her qipao was as red as her lips. A man reached out to hug her, arms enveloping her thighs under her derriere, face nuzzling into her belly, while the woman continued to swing her feather fan two and fro. The man is injured, his lips nicked and legs stiff like wood. One of his hands slid down her exposed thighs from the slit of the dress to wrap around her ankle. She opens her eyes when he pleads, "I'm sorry."

The woman sighs, patting down softly on his unruly hair, like one does to a pet. "No, no more of this."

She drops her feather fan on the floor with a click and takes out a cigarette, leaning back on the chair to inhale a huge puff. "I think we should break up."

"W—what do you mean?" He looks at her, wild eyes losing their sparkle.

"I have to get Jellal back." She taps his back, gesturing for him to let her go. "And you can get your Juvia back while I'm at it."

He doesn't let go immediately. So the woman pries his hands off her waist to get up to her feet. She huffs, her lips curling like the white petals of lilies in the vase near the blinds. She pulls her jacket over her back and walks off into young night dressed in stars.

As she walks away, his eyes well up with unshed tears. They drip like sweet honey, like the bittersweet memories they shared together. She hurt him badly this time. She had taken the life off his soulful eyes and made them hollow like those on a sculpture. Gray felt used like she had tainted his soul irretrievably.

The woman who walked into the night vanished out of his sight. Every step has her dead heart hammering. Her steps falter, her knees crashing to the ground. She had nowhere to go, no one to seek.


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Author's Note:

To my amazing readers,

I love you guys. Thank you for your constructive feedback and lovely responses.

To dear Bella,

you always bring a smile on my face.

I'll try to make it longer next time.

I was inspired to write another oneshot of the pair! Check it out if you're interested.