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"I don't want you to," she sobbed, "to do what I tell you to; I don't want a marionette that follows my every command, Jellal, I want you!" Her voice was a high-pitched mess. Her face was flushed with anger and tears that still spilled from her reddened eyes, her fingers clawing into his shoulders. "Just…" she stopped shaking him, arms losing their strength, chest heaving.
She let go of him when he was lowered back into the pillows. Sitting back on her heels, Erza sobbed, wiping her face with her wrist. She kept her head down, veiling herself in her hair. He could only catch a glimpse of her quivering lips, his own bleeding as he bit them hard.
"I can't stand to see you like this…" she forced her voice to scratch up her throat, "I don't want you to do all that to yourself," Erza took a shaky inhale, bringing a hand to her eyes to rub them. "I know you're trying and I know you're on the right path but I cannot wait for you to go and discover what a good person you are, I… I can't let you leave again…" she was pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes.
"I'm being selfish, but I just can't…" she cried again. Jellal heaved himself up. His heart felt sore, as if having been dragged across stone, beaten repeatedly and his heart stabbed, then sliced open. He felt like the monster he had always deemed himself to be.
"You're not," he hesitated, his hands shaking as he neared her, "I'm just a-"
"Don't!" She snarled. Hair and tears flew when she whipped her head up to glare at him. The hint of sunlight through the curtains made her eyes sparkle, glistening with water that would not stop coming. The same applied to him. He pushed forward, though, despite his fear of rejection that he knew would shatter them both.
Tentatively, Jellal enclosed her in an embrace.
"I'm sorry." He said, but instead of the expected protests, she fell into him. Erza gripped his shirt, pressing her face against his chest, screaming into the fabric. He swallowed, tightening his arms. She let him so he continued, lifting her off her heels as he squeezed her shaking form to him.
"I'll try." He managed, finding his voice back. "But I will do as you say, because I need your guidance," he honestly said, feeling her tear at his shirt. "I want this- I want you, too," he dug his fingers into her back, "I'm sorry I," his breath hiccupped, "ruin everything."
Erza shook her head against him. She pushed into his arms, lifting her head, eyes wobbly but determined.
"You have to remember that it's not just me, Jellal; there are always two in a relationship," she said and he opened his mouth to answer, not given the chance. She sucked him dry, fiercely clashing her lips into his. He could not breathe, almost certain that a vessel had popped in his brain. He pulled away, inhaling once, diving back in before she could even start to understand that their kiss had been interrupted.
They could not stop. Grabbing each other's faces, tugging where there was no space to begin with, burning when ashes were all that was left.
They could not breathe. Wheezing, they finally broke apart after what had felt like an entire minute. And perhaps was. Neither let go. They panted into the silence around them, time seeming to only run inside that very room. The outside world forgotten.
"Will you…" Jellal caught his breath, being the first to look up. She lifted her gaze to meet his. "Will you give me another chance?" He asked, the part that had hoped for her to break up dying. She hugged him and he mirrored her action. Her breath came warmly down his neck as she pressed herself into him.
"I've waited my whole life to hear you say those words…"
They had stayed in their embrace for over an hour. He had started to cry again at some point, setting her off immediately, too. They were sore. Physically and mentally exhausted.
Erza found herself on his chest, his arms still around her, though lose enough to give the impression of him being asleep. She dearly hoped he was. Judging from the light from outside, she assumed to have drifted off, too, napping the morning away, making up for those brutally restless hours of the night before.
She decided not to leave him until he was better. At least make him promise somehow to not leave the house again while in his current state.
He could fight while being injured – no question – but he was reckless and uncaring with himself; he would overdo it should the situation of a battle arise. Of course, he had had to prove her concern right by stepping into the rain until the chances of a cold were easily eighty percent, probably more. Why could he not just stay and sleep – he had years of sleep to catch up to from what she gathered, it should be a piece of cake.
All the more reason to stay – he had said to be sleeping better with her around. Maybe she had to sneak him alcohol again as it seemed to be the only thing to keep him in bed…
Erza held her breath. He was still sleeping, but something felt off. Something was… warm and… wet. She gasped, lifting herself off him, noticing the puddle of blood she had laid on – and most likely caused.
"Jellal," she urged, hating to be waking him up. He stirred, his sleep lighter than air. She crawled backwards, nudging him, raising his shirt to see the bandage around his abdomen soaked. Just like her own. "Jellal," she said again, ready to get him to the bathroom would he not do it quickly enough himself.
He opened his eyes, furrowing his brow. He started to ask what the matter was but she was faster.
"You're bleeding," she pulled on his uninjured arm. He groaned, sitting up slowly. Too slowly for her taste. She shoved her hands beneath his back, rolling him to the edge of the bed, nearly throwing him out.
He was more than tired, so she fixed him up herself. He did not resist to anything, letting the world happen around him, eyes falling close from time to time. She watched him with pity. She really was being selfish, she thought while wrapping new gauze around him. She was always too pushy, too needy and too demanding. It was the last thing he could use for his self-esteem but she could not bring herself to let him go.
They were almost mute for the entire morning until midday. She ate her strawberry cake for breakfast, frowning to herself when he finished half a kilo of oatmeal. She would have to bring up honesty again, deciding to leave it for now. He was not even sincere with himself; how would she ever to get him to tell her the truth? What spell did he need to be… fixed? Fine, to begin with.
"Juvia said the mission was a success," Erza spoke softly. They were lying on the bed again, both facing the ceiling. He gave a hum.
"Meredy reported that, too." He informed. They fell silent again. She felt herself torn. She wanted to scoot over, to hug him or hold hands or at least touch shoulders. She restrained herself, not wanting to overchallenge him – not aware how she hurt him with it.
The street had never been this audible. Usually, there would be talking or running water or shuffling sheets to hear. At least breathing. It seemed as if they froze up, neither daring to make another mistake.
She was the first to fill the quiet, again.
"Do you… miss Ultear?" She asked carefully. She wanted to hear him speak the truth – any truth. And she wanted to hear him speak.
Jellal sighed through his nose.
"I do, especially on missions," he confessed. She turned onto her side, shuffling a pillow beneath her head, watching him. He kept his gaze upwards. To her positive surprise, he went on by himself. "She had a way of… keeping a cool head, no matter the situation. She could make everyone feel like a joke, even if she was at a disadvantage, she would never let anyone know. It was… reassuring," he mumbled but she heard. "It was convincing enough to give us courage."
"I can hardly imagine her coming out at the short end,"
"True…" he gave a single amused huff, the corners of his mouth dropping again. "I mostly miss her on Meredy's behalf; I never knew their story but they had such a strong bond." He sighed. "And I know she misses her a lot,"
"She told me so, too," Erza admitted, tone ringing with affection. "She also said how she doesn't want you to replace her; she just wants you to be you and-"
"Why do people keep saying that?" He almost growled, his eyes sharp but his voice thinning. Her eyes clouded with pity.
"Because we like you the way you are, Jellal,"
"Why?" He clenched his fist above his ribs. Noticing his actions, he loosened it again. "I don't even like myself," his breath was shuddering, as if wanting to take the words back mid-sentence. He was always like this, she thought. Willing, almost desperate to tell her things – which she loved –, however backing down and resorting to lying as soon as the topic changed to him.
She realised how she was analysing him like she would with battle opponents. And she had to win this fight at all costs.
"You're the only one," she hardly finished when he cut in sharply.
"I can give you a dozen detailed lists of people who take against me,"
"Well, they don't matter,"
"Why?" He was starting to snap, patience running out. She contemplated to stop, seeing as it was such a delicate subject to him. And she would not be able to stand another night such as the last one. "Why do only the ones count who seem to be fine with me?" Seem… not even believing that, are you?
"Because those others don't know you," Erza interrupted his sigh, not missing a beat when he had run dry on protests for just a second. "Take Kagura – she wanted to kill you but now that's all history because she got to know you,"
"No, because she got to know you," he bit down on his lip, a hapless frown crowning his forehead. "Because you convinced her and she believes you more than she trusts me,"
"She trusts you because I do."
"Exactly." He closed his eyes. "How is that being myself," he did not even ask, seemingly not wanting an answer. He was tired – tired of discussing something so utterly unquestionable to him.
"How it is not?" She gave him a stern look, then chose a gentler tone, "Even with everything that's happened, she believes you to be good and without knowing you well. You're that convincing,"
"You are, not me,"
"And you prove them right." Erza glared at him. He did not open his eyes. What was it that she had to do to get him to accept himself? To stop interpreting hatred and just see things the way they were. She knew she was right; if he did not take her word, who was left? She refused to admit defeat – she wanted to try again and again while at the same time she was dying to just stop. For it to end.
"I'm sorry," Jellal pulled her out of her thoughts, "I'm causing you so much trouble,"
"No, I'm impatient with you," she shook her head into the pillow she was still clutching. She wanted it to be his arm instead.
"You're not – you've been waiting for so long-"
"And you waited for over seven years," she felt her heart sting. And race. Why was everything they did together stressful; why could they not even talk without it giving a stomach ache?
"You say that as if I had not lost hope back then…" she heard herself gasp at that, eyes widening. Slowly, she scooted closer to him. He was not moving, but at least that meant that he would not back away. He almost always just let her advance, waiting, not returning anything, however obviously she showed her wishes. For now, it was the best she could get.
"I'm sorry,"
"It's not your fault," he said it so sadly, she did not hesitate to wrap her arms around his uninjured one. Resting her face against his shoulder, she closed her eyes.
"We're a mess, aren't we?" Her voice was small. His exhale spoke of agreement. "But I'm glad we're at least something…"