Laxus
The cold night air hit him like a slap to the face. He stood just outside the guild, staring up at the stars that twinkled with indifferent brightness. The sharp edges of his thoughts were louder than the distant sounds of the guild, and every inch of him was screaming in frustration.
His instincts had been right. She had chosen.
Gray had been the one to make her smile. Gray had been the one to be there for her when Laxus pulled away. The image of her laughing with him, sitting so comfortably close, wouldn't leave his mind. And the worst part was…
He couldn't even bring himself to be angry at her. He couldn't bring himself to blame her for choosing Gray. Not when he, himself, had been the one to push her away. To be the one who wouldn't step up when it mattered.
He didn't even want to admit it to himself, but the jealousy—sharp and bitter—kept gnawing at him. It wasn't just about Gray. It wasn't even just about losing Juvia.
It was about the fact that he hadn't been brave enough. That he'd held himself back out of fear—fear that if he cared too much, he'd only get hurt in the end. But here he was, hurting anyway. And now Juvia was giving someone else her attention, her warmth, and there was nothing he could do about it.
Nothing except turn away.
He didn't belong in that space. Not anymore.
Thunder rumbled far off in the distance, but Laxus didn't flinch. Instead, he stared at the dark horizon, his fists clenching at his sides, wishing he could just stop caring.
But the truth was, it was already too late