To and From: Gray/Juvia: In which Gray reads through the mail that Lyon sends Juvia.

A/N: Just had to put something up there; it's been months now.

Disclaimer:Fairy Tail ain't mine!

Today . . . today was rather slow day, he realized absently while observing his fellow guild mates from his seat at a bar stool, how they chatted casually, how they drank leisurely, how nobody, not even that idiot Natsu, had started a brawl yet.

Hm. He wondered what was up with everybody, but then again, maybe nothing was up at all. He was feeling exactly the way they looked: Tired, mellow, and laid-back. It was just a lazy day, perhaps.

Whatever. Sometimes, with all of their rowdiness, Fairy Tail just needed a day to crash.

And so he continued to munch coolly on whatever cream-filled pastry it was that Mirajane had served to him. He hardly ever ordered things by name; it was by how delicious it looked. And it was pretty tasty.

Idly, his eyes wandered back behind the bar, where the white-haired barmaid was shifted through several piles of envelopes. The mail. The guild always got the mail on Sundays, most of them either fan mail, letters from family, or bills, or something.

"Oi, Mira," he said, wiping his sticky fingers on his pants, "anything there for me?"

She peered at him from over the towers of packages and letters, her index finger resting contemplatively on her chin. "Hmm . . ." Her eyes flickered to one particular pile on the right. "Well, I've seen a lot from Lyon Vastia; this entire heap right here is from him, but . . . ."

His nose wrinkled. Lyon? Possibly sending him mail? Sending his guild mail? That was so not cool.

"The hell's he spamming us for?" He asked after taking an annoyed sip from his coffee mug.

Mira proceeded with her sorting. "One or two might be for you Gray, but the majority is actually for Juvia."

Instantly, he bristled. Lyon not sending things to him, but to another guild member of his?

"Everyday he sends her one."

Everyday? To Juvia? He set his mug down and demanded, the irritation vivid in his tone, "What the hell does he want with—"

Oh. Oh yeah. Stupid Lyon and his stupid crush on Juvia. Right. How could he even forget about that since Juvia was always plastering herself to his arm and Lyon was always plastering himself to hers? How could he even forget about their fucked up love triangle of which he claimed he was not involved in?

Huh. But like he'd said, it was a slow day, so . . . .

"What's he doing?" He snorted with a scowl. "Asking her on dates through the mail, or something?" He hoped that it sounded as if he didn't really care, or anything, because he really didn't. Yes. He just wanted to scoff at how much of a wimp Lyon was for trying spam a girl with mail to get his way. Because that was, like, seriously low. And creepy.

Really, what was his problem? Juvia would decline his offers whenever he was over at Fairy Tail or whenever they were over at Lamia Scale, or whenever they just happened to see each other, and then, each time they were apart, he just had to write the poor girl up with his dumb requests instead.

Damn, that Lyon was such a clingy bastard. A mania-type, seriously.

"Perhaps." The demon take-over mage smiled sweetly at him in a way that made his spine icy. "Would you like to read one, Gray-kun, and find out?"

Read one . . . ? He squinted at her, puzzled as he reached for the last crumb of his breakfast tart. "Why would I wanna be lookin' through Juvia's mail?" Why would Mira even suggest that? She was acknowledged as the most mature one out of all of them, so this was rather . . . weird.

She shrugged seemingly innocently, sliding a white envelope toward him. It was sealed with a red heart sticker. Mavis, he didn't even want to touch the thing. "To see what he says to Juvia-chan without using his voice. Just read one, Gray."

Uneasiness formed in the pit of his stomach. Mira had asked nicely enough but who could miss that rough edge in her tone?

"Erm, Mira, I really shouldn't—"

"Read it."

"F-Fine . . . ." He glanced uncertainly down at the letter near his cup, signed by Lyon in such a fancy scrawl that he could hardly understand it.

What the hell was wrong with Mirajane, asking him to be going through all of Juvia's personal shit like some creeper? What did he care about Lyon's dumb love letters?

He tried to remove the sticker as carefully as he could— maybe he could still put it back on later and Mira could still give it to Juvia and she'd have no idea of what he was forced to do.

Once the heart was off the paper and done sticking to his damn fingers, he cast a nervous glimpse over his shoulder before removing a folded up note from the envelope.

And then he raised his head, only to be unnerved with the calculating way Mira was rubbing her hands together. Jeez . . . why him?

Carefully, so carefully that he was almost holding his breath, in fact, he unfurled the message, smoothing it out prior to holding it up to his face.

And then he read the bloody thing, in his head, of course:

My dearest Juvia-chan,

Upon this canvas I shall spill my soul's inner-most desires for you, and upon my chest I carve your name with the dagger of love, so that the world may know that only you lie within my heart.

Oh, Mavis. Please. He needed to stop right there and he'd only read one sentence. This was . . . this . . . he wouldn't be able to take such . . . sentimental exaggerations. Mavis, that Lyon was such a major weirdo.

This was disgusting! But he had to read on, y'know, cuz Mira's glare was getting very uncomfortable.

Such charm and radiant beauty as yours could calm the wildest beasts and bring happiness to the wickedest of beings. What person in their sane mind could resist those beaming blue pools of which you call eyes? When I stare deeply into them, I feel hypnotized and often get the urge to jump right into them.

I can't remember if I've already told you this, but I really do love your smile. It's such a beauty to look at, glittering in the brilliant sunlight like the singing of angels.

He really wanted to gag. That last part didn't even make any sense . . . .

Sometimes I wish I could do nothing but stare at your smile all day, but alas, we are of different worlds entirely. You are from Fairy Tail and I am from Lamia Scale.

But even so, we should really go out sometime, you know?

Anyway, darling Juvia-chan, I have to depart now. The Master is threatening to spin me! But don't forget that you always remain in my thoughts, helping keep me alive and—

Damn, he really couldn't take anymore. He was well aware of how unusually hot his ears and face were and how much irritation was stirring inside him. Lyon couldn't just be writing all this overstressed, emotional crap to Juvia every damn day of the week. He couldn't even get through one stupid letter.

He wondered how she felt about all this. She should really tell him to stop, unless she somehow liked it, but he couldn't wrap his head around how she would (it was so gross) since she liked him and all . . . .

"Was it a love letter?" Mira inquired, cocking her head casually, though he had a feeling she already knew.

"Yes," he replied stiffly and it took his all not to jam it back within the envelope.

"How'd you feel about it? Please don't be too jealous of Lyon, Gray."

He considered her quizzically. Jealous? "Of course not. I have way better writing skills than that cheesy freak."

The expression Mira wore fell and she sulkily went back to sifting through mail. And he skeptically eyed all of the other letters to Juvia, wondering if they were all lovey-dovey from Lyon as well.

It would be a shame if they were. He really felt bad for the water mage for having to put up with Lyon's lameness . . . . He should beat Lyon up for it. For messing with the members of his guild. Yeah. Totally. But maybe he should read another one of those letters before deciding that, just to make sure that it wasn't all false information or not legit.

But oh Mavis, he really shouldn't. It was disgraceful to be all in Juvia's business and he didn't think he could read another one of those things.

But he did. Eventually. After watching them musingly for so long, he finally snatched one up and opened it, reading the contents and who it was for and who it was signed by until he was infuriated with that ice prick for being so damn persistent with Juvia because fuck, didn't he see it? Didn't he see how Juvia didn't like him and how she wanted to be with him, with Gray, and how Gray wasn't going to let her be with Lyon because— because—

"Gray-sama . . . what are you doing?"

His head snapped up and the angry heat drained from his face as he stared into blue, horrified. There was a mess . . . a mess in front of him, a mess of ripped envelopes, torn heart-shaped stickers, and shredded love poems.

Oh . . . . Shit, what had he done?

"J-Juvia! I, um, I-I was just . . . M-Mira told me . . ." Yes, Mira had told him. This was mostly all her fault and when he clenched a fist, whirling around to the bar counter, she inconveniently was not there. Only the piles and mounds of destroyed letters and the ones that the barmaid had organized. "Crap . . . ."

She studied him with stern, azure eyes, but he was surprised to see that she was not upset with him. Instead, her fingers went to the mass of ripped paper on the table and she told him evenly, "Gray-sama, did you know that Juvia has a special place in her room where she would keep all of these?"

He could hardly look at her. It was all so unfair of him. "I'm so sorry, Juvia."

"It's fine, really." Her voice was light and unperturbed, as if it really was fine, although it shouldn't be. It could not be. He'd been so disrespectful to her and her things . . . .

He opened his mouth to apologize again, a billion times if he had to, but she added, "Because honestly, Juvia does the same thing to them whenever she wishes Gray-sama would send her one of those, or when she wishes she was brave enough to send him one . . . ."

He actually didn't look at her then because he never could when she would just announce her admiration for him like that, and now, obviously, how could there be anything to like about him if he just went around going through people's mail?

She stepped around the counter, behind the bar and rummaged in the cabinets for something. A moment later, she came back around with a white trash bag and began dumping the piles of paper inside.

The mess he'd created.

He grabbed her arm and she sent him a questioning expression, brushing the azure bangs from her eyes.

"I . . . I'll clean it."

"Gray-sama doesn't have to—"

"No." His voice was firm and he exhaled deeply, rubbing tiredly at his eyes. He'd messed up so badly. She should be mad at him. "I did all of this. I should clean it."

He unhanded her when she complied, watching him quietly with innocent, cobalt eyes as he dropped all of her mail into the garbage.

And she continued to watch him from the seat beside him until the mess was gone, almost . . . inquisitively.

He met her gaze reluctantly. Oh, he was in for it now. She was probably going to ask him why he was so cruel as to read her letters and then go destroying them.

But no. Astonishingly enough, her chin was in her palm as she gazed over at him, smiling shyly, coiling a lock of her hair around one finger.

"Um . . . what is it?"

She was nearly giggling. "Is Gray-sama . . . jealous of Lyon-sama?"

He could've choked just now. For some reason, when she'd asked that . . . he really got she meant. Yeah. And it wasn't anything to do with any damn writing skills.

He scowled and averted his eyes, ignoring the warmth in his cheeks. "Why should I be? He writes you all this crappy junk mail; why would I be jealous of that?"

She crossed her legs, glancing sidelong at him. "Lyon-sama is . . . not that bad, Gray-sama. And Juvia wouldn't call his confessions terrible, actually. I can tell he pours his heart into them."

"Not that . . . bad?" He stared at her, ashamed that he was nearly pouting. "Don't you even want him to stop?" Didn't she love him? And what the hell was that churning restlessly inside him? Surely not jealousy?

"Well, Juvia's told him that she doesn't like him that way," she mumbled, drumming her fingers on the wooden counter. "It would be enough for him to stop, wouldn't it, if Lyon-sama wasn't all that determined?"

Stubbornly, he reached to drink from his coffee, even if it wasn't even hot anymore. "Then you should tell him outright."

She grinned mildly at him. "Juvia should, shouldn't she? But she wouldn't want Lyon-sama to give up on pursuing love."

His eyes narrowed ever so slightly. She couldn't . . . like him, or anything, right? "Why?"

"Well . . ." Her smile turned wistful and his gaze softened instantly. "Juvia of all people should sympathize with him, since . . . she's sort of an expert on unrequited love . . . ."

He chewed on his lower lip, avoiding her eyes.

"Yet, Juvia still pursues Gray-sama, hoping that one day, he'll understand where she's coming from and accept her when she says that she loves him because she honestly does love him." She squinted a little, putting a thoughtful finger to her lip. "So if Lyon-sama feels the same way, he wouldn't give up either, right?"

Damn, all these sentimental people in his life . . . . They would be, she especially, the death of him. He couldn't handle stuff like that. But when it came from her, he could always understand it, always get it and feel that he was a jerk for not speaking up. She loved him. He did see that. He didn't love her, but he felt that she was important enough to him that he didn't want her with anyone else. That he wanted her to keep on loving him.

Now, what the hell kind of selfish crap was that?

"I guess not," he replied rather meditatively, just to say something back really, as he observed the way she smiled— the smile she only ever let him see. "So in other words, he's your inspiration."

Juvia visibly brightened. "Yes. Lyon-sama is that and only that to Juvia. So don't feel jealous, Gray-sama—"

"I wasn't even—"

"Because you're Juvia's world."

A/N: Wrote this a long while ago. Thus why Lyon's still infatuated with Juvia. Review, anyway?

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