no promises

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There were a few rules that I'd resigned myself to live by this summer.

Rule one: stop trying to delay the inevitable.

I think one of the many lessons I'd learned in this tumultuous couple of months had been to stop living in denial, because in the end, it just caused unnecessary grief and just took a whole fucking lot of my time. Time that I most definitely did not have.

"Isn't it funny?" Lucy asked aloud, for what felt like the millionth time. It was our concluding week as seniors at Magnolia East High School, ie. the End of Days.

"I can't believe we're almost done." Levy added to Lucy's sentiment, as if we hadn't been over it eleven billion times already.

It was a Tuesday morning, we were due to end school this Friday, and then Saturday afternoon we would return to school for an outdoor graduation ceremony. At this point, it was futile for teachers to actually teach anything, so most classes had simply resigned to violently competitive card games and/or social hours. I didn't really have that much to complain about, actually. Which was out of the norm. I liked to think I was pretty good at coming up with things to complain about.

"Only four more school days until we actually have to get our lives together." Lisanna grimaced, before leaning forward on her feet and chewing on her cheek. I mirrored her facial expression, the idea of shaping up and diving face first into adulthood was less than appealing.

"Oh, please." Levy patted her shoulder reassuringly. "We're supposed to have fun in college. We'll get there, at some point."

I looked up, having been relatively silent all morning. Even though we'd only been on school grounds for about 15 minutes, me not opening my huge mouth and saying something perfectly idiotic was unusual.

I watched Lucy's eyes flicker across me, Lisanna, and Levy. I knew what she was thinking, in that moment, because I had been thinking the exact same thing.

This would be one of the last times we would all be standing here, together. Next year, we would all go our separate ways to the colleges we'd been accepted to. I wouldn't go far, what with Holy Angels and all. Levy was traveling to the East coast, Lucy was going down south, and Lisanna was only moving a state away.

Still, the significant distance between us made the moment bittersweet and I couldn't help but remain in my silence until we were interrupted.

Erza and Jellal walked up the pavement to the front of the school, hand-in-hand (gross), and stopped once they made it to our little circle.

"Ladies," Jellal addressed casually, bowing his head while the other girls said hi to him. Lucy brought up something and started a new conversation that I didn't really feel like joining.

Erza looked me up and down. I returned the favor, before she leaned down to my level.

"What's the matter? Don't tell me you've turned into one of those girls who doesn't have a personality outside of her boyfriend's influence."

I shot her a dirty look.

There it was, the metaphorical elephant in the room. I'd be a total liar if I said I hadn't been waiting for him to come to see me all morning. The truth was I'd thought of little else ever since his little…stunt. And by stunt I mean something that belongs in a Jane Austen book, trapped within the pages of an ancient novel about ridiculous displays of affection and overwhelming amounts of gush.

Anyways, Gray and I were what you could call official.

"Look who's talking," I mused, throwing my gaze at Jellal, and then back at Erza. I rarely saw them separated, so the fact that she was attempting to criticize my newfound interest in spending time with my boyfriend was tinged with the rich taste of irony.

"At least I don't fantasize about him in broad daylight." Erza accused. I pretended to be appalled, even though she was a little bit correct. Will I ever be cut the slack I deserve? My boyfriend was built like an ancient Greek statue. With arms and everything. I was allowed to have my indulgences.

I flushed at the word. Boyfriend. What a treacherous word. It was supposed to make everything easier between me and Gray, and yet every time I thought of the word it made me want to explode like a meat balloon.

"Gross. You were fantasizing just now, weren't you?" Erza gave me the side-eyes. I glared harder.

"I was not." I clarified. Which actually wasn't a lie. "Just…thinking."

"Thinking…about Gray…without a shirt?" She corrected. I flushed again. Now I was thinking about that.

"Are we talking about Gray?" Lucy asked shrilly, interrupting our private conversation. I shrugged, trying to play it off casually instead of screaming until my lungs popped.

"Oh my god, finally." Lisanna slapped my shoulder with unintended aggression. "You've been completely quiet about it for the longest time. If I don't get details soon, I'm going to lose it."

"How did it even happen?" Levy inquired. "It was like, one day you guys cut each other off, and then the next day I come to school and you're-you're-"

"Canoodling." Jellal finished for her. Levy nodded.

"Canoodling." Levy repeated.

I glared at Jellal. This conversation was going in the opposite direction I wanted it to go. My time with Gray was exactly that. My time. So I didn't feel like divulging the embarrassing details of my obsessive crush and his weirdly romantic gestures. Is that such a crime?

I frowned to myself. It kind of was.

"We're just…" I trailed off. "Just…uh…"

"Just…uh…" Jellal mocked my tone and I almost gave him a knuckle punch where the sun don't shine.

While trying to think of something to say that would satisfy the hyenas, I was rescued by the unlikeliest of heroes.

An arm snaked around my waist, pulling me to a rock hard body.

"Now this," a voice purred in my ear. "Is an orgy I can get behind."

I almost bit a hole through my cheek.

"Sting, if you don't get your arm off me I will curse you and all your offspring." I hissed menacingly. I looked up at him and his cheeky smile, to see that his other arm was wrapped around Jellal's waist, who seemed to be at a loss for words.

He laughed. "What? I never get to touch you anymore since boytoy started to hog you all to himself."

My eyebrows knitted together. "What…why would you even need to be touching me in the first place?"

He winked. "That's for me to know, and you to find out."

"Gross." I murmured. "And don't call him my boytoy, he has a name, and I know you're familiar with it."

"Sting," Lucy began, taking his hand into hers. I was glad that he'd begun to get more comfortable with my other friends in the past few weeks, but also a little bit alarmed. Lucy continued. "Do you happen to have any details about Juvia's happy relationship? She won't tell us anything and we're dying of thirst." She ended her request with an irresistible pout. God, did I hate her.

"Well," Sting mumbled, exaggerating the L's for emphasis. "Depends. How juicy to you want the details to be?"

Lucy's eyes widened. "Very." She answered, in a horrifically evil tone that could really only be described as Machiavellian.

Sting grinned, receiving the answer he had been hoping for. My heart dropped to my kneecaps. I suddenly regretted live texting him half the events of mine and Gray's relationship. My bad.

"I don't suppose you lovely ladies heard how Gray made his move…" He trailed off, testing the waters. Lisanna made a sound like a squeaky toy being thrown against a wall and that was good enough for Sting.

"He bravely ran to Juvia's house – barefooted, in the middle of a hurricane-"

"Wrong. That's...that's so incorrect." I interrupted, only to have my mouth covered by Sting's large, sweaty hand.

"And then he climbed up to her balcony-"

"Sting, I don't even have a balcony!" I blanched. Just where in the hell was he getting all these bizarre ideas from?

"-and he held out a bouquet of a hundred thousand orchids and lilies, bravely proclaiming his love for her-"

At this point, I'd had just about enough. I smacked Sting in the solar plexus with my Calculus textbook and his charade was finally cut off.

"Would you put a sock in it, Nicholas Sparks? I swear, if one more damn lie comes out of your mouth, I'm going to decapitate your sperm hose!" I threatened, knowing very well that my words came out more defensively than I intended them to. To my chagrin, Sting grinned.

"There's my girl." He exclaimed proudly. "Ladies and gentlemen, you are welcome. I have just rescued Juvia from planet Gray Fullbuster and she will be here all week."

I rolled my eyes so hard I gave myself a mini headache. "You're a dick."

Sting raised an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge?"

I blinked. That sentence made no sense.

"Anyway…I have to go ask Wendy something. See you all later." I declared, totally out of the blue. I could tell that none of my friends even remotely believed me, but let me go nonetheless.

"We'll get those details somehow, Juvia." Lucy warned. "Just you wait."

"Sure thing Luce." I deadpanned before making my less-than-grand exit. Thank god that was over with.

I kind of hated myself for divulging so few details about Gray to all of my friends (aside from Sting and Gajeel, I guess), but my moments with Gray felt so…private. Almost unreal. Like if I told all my friends about everything that had happened to me, I would finally wake up and discover that in the end, it had all been one really fucked up dream.

I shook my head and continued to aimlessly walk through my school. All the underclassmen were hanging out in the halls and the library probably jazzed up that they'd be promoted a grade by the end of the year. Not us seniors. We just got to become freshmen again.

Joy.

As I turned the hall to head towards the language classrooms, I halted in my tracks. I could smell it. The scent was similar to rain – or metal. It was undoubtedly Gajeel. What in god's name was he doing at school this early?

I peeked into the nearest classroom only to swing my head back in total surprise. It was Gajeel – and he definitely wasn't alone. He was standing there talking to my boyfriend.

Haha. Boyfriend. I was never going to get used to calling him that, was I?

Like a prairie dog, I jerked my head back up to see better without drawing attention to myself. They both appeared to be in deep conversation about something.

That was so bizarre. I thought Gray annoyed Gajeel! And I knew for a fact that Gray was afraid of Gajeel, so what could they possibly have in common now?

Then it hit me. It was me. The thing they had in common was me. They were probably talking about me. Probably about how terrible I am. Or how bad I am at singing. Or how I used to have a crush on Ed Sheeran. We all make mistakes, dammit!

My worry continued to mount as I pressed my ear against the door to try and hear what they were saying about me. It had to be bad, right? God, I knew dating Gray was too good to be true!

In my despair, I totally forgot that I was still holding my Calculus textbook. Or…had been holding my textbook. My little distraction caused it to slip out of my arms and for the thirty pound book to land flat on the floor with a monstrous thump.

Well, shit. That's fine. I didn't plan on living past 18 anyways. My recklessness would undoubtedly get me killed, and even though I'd always assumed I'd go out due to a tiger attack or freak construction accident, I guess dying of embarrassment works too.

"What was that?" I heard Gajeel ask.

Okay. They didn't see me! I can play this cool…I can do this…

I slid the door open and poked my head in, trying to look nonchalant.

"Oh! Is…Mr. Taylor not here yet?" I asked, almost fooling them into thinking I was in search of my least favorite teacher.

Gray was looking at me. He was giving me that half-amused, half-confused look he always gives me when I do dumb shit. He was so cute.

Gajeel squinted. "Jesus, Jubes. Did you run into the door or something?"

I stared, knowing that he was referring to the sound that my textbook made when it hit the floor.

"Uh…sure." I answered, my eyes nervously darting between the two of them. "What are you guys doing here anyway?"

Gajeel and Gray looked at each other. It was a look that told me they'd die before they told me what they were actually discussing.

"Just wanted to have a word with Fullbuster." Gajeel shrugged.

I glared at him. Hard.

"Nothing bad, I promise." Gray added with one of his dazzling smiles. I knew that bastard was only doing that because he knew it was my weakness! Dammit!

"O-kay." I said in a disbelieving tone. Even though I dropped the subject, I was still suspicious.

Gray hadn't stop smiling softly since I walked in. God. I was really going to kill him for being so perfect.

Gajeel sighed heavily. "I can see when I'm not wanted."

I blinked at him. What was he talking about?

Gray looked at him and grinned. "Thanks Gajeel."

Gajeel made a grumbling sound and brushed past me to leave the classroom. "Remember what I told you, Fullbuster!" He called before leaving.

Gray laughed, their inside joke apparently quite humorous to him. That did it. I wasn't giving this up without a fight.

"You're mad." He stated, although he didn't look too fazed by the fact.

"Really?" I asked dryly. He laughed and made his way over to me in only a few strides. Curse his long legs.

"Yep. Know how I can tell?" He asked me, ignoring my anger and sliding his arm underneath my hair and around my shoulders like it belonged there.

Who am I kidding. His arm did belong there. And he probably knew if he kept grinning like that I was going to stop being mad at him keeping secrets and instead start kissing him senseless. God did I hate him.

"How?" I asked, deciding to humor him.

"This eyebrow," he said, pointing to the tip of my right brow, his hand grazing my forehead. It took all my willpower not to shudder. His hands were so warm. "It twitches up just a little bit when you're pissed. It's kind of funny."

I glared at him and I felt the eyebrow he had pointed at just barely twitch. Fuck.

He laughed and began to walk towards the door, dragging me along with him. I tried to keep my stupid eyebrow under control. Betrayed by my own face! What a plot twist.

"You're really not going to tell me?" I asked him, deciding to instead go for the guilt trip instead of the angry girlfriend road.

"It's not important." He countered.

I bit my cheek and looked away from him. And five, four, three, two, one-

He sighed. "Fine. He was just telling me some things that you like to do so we can do something together besides work." He spilled, finally.

I grinned. That move always worked. He might have been beautiful, but he was a total sucker for the guilt trip.

"Speaking of work – Dylan wants us to come in on Wednesday." He informed me. His hand that was draped around my shoulder found its way to my hair and started to play with the curly strands.

I huffed. "We don't work Wednesdays. Can't that asshole find someone else to do it?"

"Well, technically yes. But I kind of…volunteered you to go in with me." He admitted guiltily.

If he was anyone else, I would have unleashed a hellstorm on him. But he was Gray, and his hand felt so good on my shoulder and he smelled so delicious that I decided to keep my mouth shut.

Gray and I had only recently started working at the ice rink, and even though we worked together, it didn't make the menial job any less unbearable.

"You're an asshole." I said to him. That made him smile, probably because he knew that meant that I'd conceded.

"You're cute." He countered, giving me a once over.

I flushed, it was embarrassing enough that we had been dating for a while and I still couldn't keep myself from exploding with blushes the minute he said anything resembling a compliment in my direction.

"Don't look at me like that." I huffed, looking towards the ground. He tugged on a piece of my hair.

"Like what?" He asked condescendingly. Asshole. He knew what he was doing.

"Like that," I gestured to his current look, eyes half-lidded and focused on every detail of my face. Ever since we started dating, that was the only way he looked at me. It was terrifying. I was supposed to be the one who hopelessly stared at my date. Not him. He was totally stealing my branding.

"Why not?" He asked playfully.

"Because," I responded, "you're supposed to be the sane half of this couple."

He squinted. "I don't recall making that deal."

I shrugged. "It came with the package." I gestured to myself and he shook his head.

"Can I return the package? I want a refund." He joked.

"No refunds. Store credit only." I shot back.

"You're ridiculous." He laughed.

"You're…dumb." I ended. It was times like these where neither me nor Gray knew who had won the argument. Or even if an argument had transpired in the first place. We were just two idiots drunk off of each other's craziness.

He removed his arm from my shoulder, instantly making me wish he put it back. The reason he did so was that we'd wandered towards the library, and were now surrounded by other students, mainly underclassmen.

Gray cleared his throat and took a tiny step sideways, distancing himself away from me in the most subtle of manners.

I felt guilty and shitty all in an instance. The only reason Gray was doing so was because he knew that I was…uncomfortable with PDA.

Which, I really wasn't. The truth was, I was afraid to hurt Gray's reputation. I mean…come on. I was cute, I'd admit that, but I was pretty sure there was still a rumor making its way throughout the sophomore class that I was a witch.

Which would be…bad for business, I suppose. For Gray at least.

I would never tell him that though. Because he'd never allow it and then would go out of his way to make public displays of affection…well…public.

I glanced at him out of the corner of my eye. He was staring at me from a respectable distance, his lips trying to smother a happy smile. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets, as if he were willing them to stay put.

He was such a good boyfriend, and it made me want to punch myself in the face.

I turned towards him suddenly, another wave of guilt washing over me. "Gray…you don't have to-"

"Well, well, well…if it isn't Bonnie and Cyanide."

I swear to God.

"Sting," Gray looked back at the person who had so rudely interrupted what could have been a bonding moment between me and Gray.

"Sting." I agreed. "So nice of you to make references that don't make any sense."

Sting tilted his head. "No, don't you get it? Because he's Bonnie, and you're Cyanide. Because that girl is poisooonnn," Sting sang that last part of his sentence and I had to choke down a laugh. Why is he such a moron.

Gray only raised his eyebrows in silent approval. I bit my cheek to keep from doing anything extraordinarily stupid.

"Geez, who shit in your cereal?" Sting asked. I didn't bother reacting to his bizarre turn of phrase.

"I'll see you at work Juvia," Gray said, suddenly interrupting my train of thought and walking away.

My reply caught in my throat, I really wanted him to stay but I didn't dare ask him that. He'd done enough just by putting up with me for this long.

"See you." I said instead.

I stared at his retreating figure for longer than I would've hoped. Sting gave me an awkward look.

"Girl…you really have to get over yourself." He advised, shaking his head in worry. My gaze snapped back to him.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I asked defensively.

"First of all, you're blind," he insisted, waving his giant hand in front of my face annoyingly. "Second of all, can't you see you're getting in the way of your own relationship?"

I scowled. "I am not."

"Woman, you're killing me." He let out a huff. "And Gray, too." He added.

I tried not to let panic slip into my throat. "What…do you mean?"

"He wants to be with you." Sting observed, looking in the direction that Gray had disappeared. "Why don't you just let him do that?"

I bit my tongue a couple of times. "I…don't know."

"You have to take down some of your walls, Juvia." He advised. "I know how many you broke down just to get to this point, but…you've got a long way to go."

I looked down. He had…an extremely valid point.

"Yeah." I finally agreed, after a moment of contemplation. "I do."

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"15, 20, 25, 26, 27." I counted aloud, tapping each coin because I would lose count if I didn't count them manually.

Gray watched me in silence. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he restrained himself seeing as we were in the company of customers.

I handed to correct change back to the young girl, probably 14 or 15, who had purchased a candy bar from the civic center snack bar, where Gray and I worked. I guarantee you that the girl had only come here to get an eyeful of Gray, the spectacle of the snack bar, who had only been offered the job because he spent all his time here skating anyways. Thus, I was offered the job because of my…connections.

Just as the girl walked away with her candy bar (with a sensual gaze at Gray, if I may add) I turned my head to look at Gray. He raised his eyebrows and looked over at the lemonade machine. Dick.

"Do you have a problem?" I drawled. His eyes lifted to the top of his lids, like he was trying to remember something that had just slipped his mind.

"You know what? Yes. I do." He answered.

"And what's that?" I asked. This boy sure loved a challenge.

He turned and took two steps towards me, cornering me against the front of the snack bar. He placed his arms down on either side of me so I got a nice, delicious view of his exposed forearms. Yummy.

"My problem is that…" he trailed off, getting a good eyeful of my lips. I swear to Jesus, if he doesn't kiss me in the next eight seconds I'm going to-

"You're blocking the view of the skittles." He finished, pointing to the obscured candy box filled with multi colored sugar spheres, directly behind my thighs.

I smacked his shoulder. "Dick." I accused. I couldn't believe how bold he'd gotten since we started dating. I could barely handle his sexiness when he was barely trying, and now he was on full-out attack mode and I could barely breathe.

He grinned, exposing his nice, pearly teeth. His breath smelt like spearmint. I hated him so much.

As if sensing my annoyance, he moved one of his hands that had been busy keeping me in place to tilt my chin up, just a little bit. Oh thank god, finally!

He leaned in, just a little bit, and then his other hand came out of nowhere and lightly pulled on my ponytail, making me gasp in surprise.

"You make this too easy." He shook his head and laughed. What a masochist! If I had known how comfortable he'd get with me after dating, I never would have gotten myself into this torturous mess.

Oh. Who was I kidding. He could be a living, breathing garbage bag and I would still want to marry him on the spot.

"You're gonna pay for that," I promised, holding my finger out and jabbing against the center of his chest.

"I sure hope so," he said enthusiastically, grabbing the hand that I had used to jab him and raising it up to his lips.

"Gray-" I warned, a blush spreading like a wildfire on my cheeks. I knew what he was about to do, and I knew why he loved to do it. He was obsessed with making me squirm.

Before he could kiss my hand and I could pass out due to all 8 pints of my blood rushing to my cheeks, I heard something that turned my warm cheeks to ice.

Someone cleared their throat behind me.

I jerked my hand away from Gray like his touch had set me aflame (which, to be honest, it kind of did) and whirled around. Only to be immediately relieved.

"Meredy." Gray and I said at the same time. I looked back, with every intention of glaring at him for his obvious violation of the no-touchy in public rule, but the glare faltered as soon as I saw his smirk. Dammit, I was so goddamn weak for that boy.

I turned back around, pink no doubt dusting my cheeks. I decided I would simply pretend that none of that even happened.

"Juvia," Meredy greeted me first, an obnoxious glimmer in her eyes. "Gray," she greeted secondly, her eyes narrowing all of a sudden.

Gray must have sensed her attitude change as well. "What's up Mer?" He asked lightly, testing the waters.

"Gray, are you harassing her?" She asked, point blank.

Gray said no at the same time I said yes.

Meredy looked at me, then back at Gray. "I'm inclined to believe Juvia."

I stuck my tongue out at Gray. Take that.

"Such betrayal, Meredy." Gray said with a pout.

Meredy ignored him. "What's he doing this time?"

I shrugged. "Oh you know…being insufferable, the usual."

"I'm right here." Gray complained. I turned and winked at him. What a sucker. He thought he was the only one with a masochistic streak? Please.

"And to think he'd learned his lesson after that prom disaster." Meredy reminisced aloud. I mentally cringed at the memory of me embarrassing myself, and then immediately warmed up at the thought of the aftermath. If I hadn't taken that horrible, horrible leap of faith, Gray probably never would've wised up and kissed me.

"And to think you'd learned to keep your big nose out of other people's business." Gray grumbled, crossing his arms like he did whenever he got grumpy.

"You know I love you, trashbuster." She blew him a kiss and looked back at me. "Speaking of trash, is Lyon here? He owes me dinner and won't answer my texts."

Gray chuckled softly. "He's at home, actually. And Ultear put his phone in the toaster so he's currently off the radar."

I whipped my head around to look at Gray. That happened and he hadn't told me yet?

"I was going to tell you!" He yelled, reading my mind uncannily.

"I believe you!" I yelled back with a laugh. Lyon's phone in the toaster. Why didn't I think of that? Ultear was becoming a better Juvia than I could ever dream of.

"Interesting." Meredy said flatly. "I'll be having words with him. Anyway, good luck you two. Gray, don't be too big of an asshole, and Juvia…give him a taste of his own medicine." Meredy winked and twirled around, elegantly making her way towards the exit.

God. If I didn't adore Gray so much I'd absolutely chase after Meredy.

I turned to Gray, my back still leaning against the snack bar. We looked at each other for a couple of seconds, as if daring one another to say something. I cracked first.

"I like her." I said simply, with a smile. He rolled his eyes.

"Of course you do." He conceded. "She doesn't attack you like she does me."

I shrugged. "Ever stop and think that maybe you deserve it?" I asked sweetly.

He clutched his heart in mock hurt. "Juvia…you don't mean that…"

I bit the inside of my cheek. I loved the way he said my name. That was one of my weaknesses that I desperately hoped he couldn't detect.

From the way he was looking at me though, I strongly suspected he knew full well how much I liked it. Evil man.

My eyes flickered around the snack bar. "You know…Dylan would kick our asses if he knew how little work we actually did."

Gray laughed, my distraction had worked successfully. Dylan was our boss, a 23 year old burnout who took his frustrations out on his teenage employees. He was a common focal point of me and Gray's fucked up asshole humor.

"Dylan could try…" Gray mused, rubbing his index finger on his lip in mock thought. "I bet I could take him."

"Sounds like you're a little cocky." I replied. Dylan wouldn't be much of a fight, he was more on the scrawny side while Gray was on the sexy side. Not that being sexy made you a better fighter, but…oh, fuck. I was so distracted by him. It was no wonder Dylan wanted to fire us so bad.

"You think he could beat me up?" Gray asked, somewhat surprised by my comeback. Oh yes, I had him exactly where I wanted him. Get ready to take a blow to your fragile masculinity, Fullbuster.

I looked down at my knuckles, pretending to think to myself. "Well – maybe. I think it's 50/50."

Gray's eyes squinted – meaning he was having trouble deciphering if I was kidding or not. Ha. Good. I was getting sick of him knowing me like that back of his hand – now was the time to spice things up.

"Explain." He demanded. I could tell at this point he was confused by my angle. Excellent, that meant I had the element of surprise.

I began to pace back and forth throughout the snack bar – only about 6-7 steps left and right, but it still got my point across. "Hmm…It's hard to explain, I mean…" I reached out and touched the exposed part of his arm when I passed him, dragging my fingertips across his skin. He shivered, perhaps from how cold my touch was, or perhaps because he felt just like I did whenever he touched me. I liked to think it was the latter, but knowing Gray it was more likely to be the former. "You're strong in some ways, while Dylan is…" I trailed off and looked in the opposite direction of him. "Well…he's strong in other ways."

Gray froze, his eyes moving a mile a minute as he attempted to calculate what I had just said. I watched his face carefully, waiting for the moment of impact.

It hit him. He looked up at me with a frosty, pointed look on his face. He was threatened.

God was he adorable.

"Sounds like you like him," he said. There was something about the way his voice lilted that told me he was trying to come off as light-hearted. But I knew Gray. He got jealous. Very easily.

I shrugged. And Gray hit his boiling point. I saw it on his face that he was about to start a long rant, but before he could even began I burst out laughing. Well, more like evil cackling, but you get the point.

Once I was done laughing, Gray realized what I had done and had an I'm-not-amused look on his face.

"I swear Gray," I said, stepping closer to him boldly and cupping his cheek. "You make this too easy." I quoted him from earlier, making him realize that his payback had come a lot sooner than he'd anticipated.

He grinned when he came to the conclusion that we were even. "Well played."

"Thank you." I replied, all too happy with myself to have a boyfriend that was willing to indulge in my asshole-ery.

"But you haven't won yet." He promised. I looked at him quizzically.

"How does one win, exactly?" I inquired.

"Simple." He responded. It was then I noticed that I had been so distracted by my competitive nature that Gray was close to me – too close to be considered workplace appropriate. To hell with it, it wasn't like I cared. "All you have to do is give up."

I snorted. "That doesn't sound like me."

"It doesn't." He agreed. With that, he reached down and pulled my arms up and around his neck. My fingertips grazed his back and just to annoy him I stepped on his feet with mine to gain a slight height advantage that my short stature prevented. He didn't appear to mind.

"I think that's why I like you so much," he mused, nodding to himself before placing his arms around my waist comfortably.

"Just shut up and kiss me Fullbuster."

"Gladly."

.

.

.

By the time Wednesday morning came around, I was determined to grow a pussy and get over my insecurities regarding my public relationship with Gray.

I pointed at myself in the mirror for what must've been the eightieth time. I nodded at my reflection and she nodded back. Time for the ultimate power play.

I was dressed for success today. And by dressed for success, I mean I was wearing colors other than navy blue, black, and gray. No, instead I wore a brilliant white sundress with a sky blue ribbon tied around my waist.

I looked like a total dumbass.

I stared at my reflection blankly and tugged at one of my blue curls. It bounced back once I released it. Stupid thing.

The sundress went down just above my knees. Ignoring the fact that I look like a total headass who was trying desperately to be something I wasn't – it should be enough to satiate the demons of hell school. I mean high school.

I jogged downstairs, not even bothering to grab my backpack as I headed out the door for school. It wasn't like I needed anything academic anyway. Yesterday had been spent returning all of our useless textbooks, so as of now, I was a free woman. A free woman in a suffocating sundress that was sucking the literal life out of me.

I looked down at my dress and cringed. It wasn't even that it was ugly – it was plenty cute. It just wasn't me. I'd much rather be seen in a crop top and booty shorts in the middle of January than be seen in this adorable monstrosity.

I got in my dad's car, ready to leave early for school because I promised Gray I would meet him in the commons so I could tell him the good news, that I was no longer phobic of our own relationship. What a monumental occasion.

I glanced in the rearview mirror and frowned at the utter atrocity that was my eyelashes. They needed mascara, or they'd be declared DOA by the time I got to school. I put the car into reverse while one of my hands wandered aimlessly to the glove box, where I kept my endless trinkets. I was in desperate search of my favorite mascara, one by the name of Better Than Sex, because, well…it really was. Whenever I needed a confidence boost, that mascara was there for me. If I had to choose between my life and my mascara's life…let's just say you'd all have a crisp invitation to my funeral.

My hand finally groped the ice cold tube as my dad's car rocketed in reverse. I slammed on the brakes and my forehead hit the rearview mirror.

Just a heads up…I'd been kindly informed by Gray, Sting, Gajeel, my entire family, all of my friends, Erza, and Jesus Christ himself that I was a terrible driver. And I could only blame it on the fact that I was a new driver for so long, considering I'd received my license around a year and a half ago.

Oh well. I rubbed my injured forehead and sped off in the direction of school while simultaneously applying my mascara. A girl could multitask, you know.

I got a couple obnoxious honks while flying to school (and I say 'flying' because I refuse to drive any less than 5 miles per hour over the speed limit) and middle fingers, probably because I was paying more attention to myself in the mirror than I was to the road. But that wasn't my fault! It was the sundress's fault. Clearly.

I got to school and parked haphazardly, sprawling over 3 parking spaces with my dad's crappy car and my even crappier park job. I guess crappiness just ran in the family.

I got out of my car and hauled myself to the front doors. This was going to be a good day, whether fate liked it, or not.

"Hey Sunshine." Erza greeted, giving me a sweeping once-over and laughing.

"Hey Victoria," I responded, giving her a look of sheer curiosity. "What's the secret?"

Barely catching my reference, Erza looked down and straightened her barely hidden lacy red bra.

"It was a gift," she explained with a huff.

"From who? Your pimp?" I asked cheaply. She side-eyed me and made the decision to not respond.

"What's got you all dressed up…and…" she looked down at her Apple Watch, "…up before 7:00 a.m.? Must be drastic."

"You know me so well." I pinched her cheek lightly and looked down the hall. "I'm just here to meet with Gray, in the commons. You haven't seen him have you?"

"Ah-ha." Erza said flatly. "Color me shocked."

"That's a no?" I deadpanned. God. She had gotten so sarcastic. Had she gotten that from me? Or had I gotten it from her?

Oh well. It was a bit terrifying at this point how similar Erza and I were. It was like our personalities slowly just rubbed off on one another until we were more or less sarcastic copies of one another.

"No, I saw him. Wondered why he looked so nervous. Maybe you ought to show up on time more often lest you give your boyfriend a heart attack." She smirked. "Or we just start calling you Lisanna."

I made a face and began walking towards the commons. Erza knew well enough not to follow. Even though she had been desperate for details about my relationship, she knew me, and she knew when her nose had to remain out of my business. Her nose would be free to roam from now on.

"Listen, We'll talk during Calc!" I called back to her, sounding more optimistic than I felt. I'd update her then. Tell her a tale or two.

"Uh-huh!" She agreed, only half-believingly, before shaking her head and breaking off towards the library.

The commons, or basically, the cafeteria without any food or tables, was a basic hangout spot for most kids before school. Not that I knew much about it, considering I loved my sleep, possibly more than life itself. Nevertheless, it was a good place for me to attempt to break my silence on the whole PDA issue considering the whole place was rather…public.

I slipped into the commons silently, the constant thrum of activity and conversation surrounding me. Yikes. Lots of sophomores. Not what I was hoping for, but whatever, I'll deal.

I tugged on my hair, feeling awkward for just standing there like an utter moron. Stupid Gray and his stupid public places. It made it nearly impossible for me to find him in this…safari of kids.

Well. I suppose I could make the best of my time. I could only play Where's Waldo starring my boyfriend for so long before my presence would begin garnering unwanted attention. And by that I mean sophomores. Hitting on me.

As if on cue, one sophomore looking guy with slick blond hair turned away from his friends and nodded at me, as if appreciating the view.

"Hey." He said simply, as if I was supposed to bow down and thank him for gracing me with his advances.

"Sorry, I don't babysit." I replied immediately before brushing past him, pretending that I had a better place to be.

I could hear the echoes of his friends laughing at him for being shut down. I couldn't give less of a damn of what those little Rugrats thought of me, I just wanted to find my stupid, dumb, ugly, horrible-

"Juvia."

Speak of the devil. The handsome devil who is certainly none of the things I just listed him as.

I turned thirty degrees to my left where I'd heard Gray's voice and he casually waved me over to where he was standing, chatting with one of his hockey friends.

God, strike me down.

I walked over him, trying to get myself to calm down on the inside even though my brain was having a radioactive meltdown. How was I supposed to tell Gray that I was fine with going public if I could barely muster the courage to present myself to one of his hockey dorks?

I got closer and realized the hockey dork was Loke, which was somewhat of a relief. He was an okay guy, from what I could tell. I could do this. I could definitely do this.

"Hey." Gray said to me, with one of his knowing smiles.

I can't do this.

I nearly melted on the spot from just that one goddamn word. A word that had been spoken to me just a few moments earlier by a sophomore, which was followed by a swift rejection. But from Gray Fullbuster, it brought me to my proverbial knees.

I'm really going to die.

"Hey." I said in response, a beat or two late. He raised an eyebrow to my suspicious behavior, and probably my suspicious outfit as well. Less than two seconds in his presence and already he knew something is up.

Loke nodded in acknowledgment towards me. I nodded back, feeling like a total dork while doing so. God I wish I could function like a normal human being.

"Juvia, this is Loke." Gray introduced briefly, to which Loke smiled oddly.

"We've met." He said simply, looking at me with this strange glint in his eyes.

"You…have?" Gray inquired, suddenly confused while shooting me a look of disdain.

"Yep." I responded quickly. "At the tournament."

"Right." Gray nodded, as if forgetting that there were other people at the tournament besides me and him. And hockey, I guess.

"It was brief, but…" Loke trailed off, before grinning, "you kind of leave an impression."

I blanched. "How so?"

From the look on his face I know I shouldn't have asked. I should not have asked.

"I seem to recall you mentioning something about…wearing a bikini in the color of my blood?" He said.

I blinked. Once. Twice. Three times.

"That…doesn't sound like me." I reasoned with a tight smile. I knew exactly who it sounded like…stupid Sting! Getting me into this stupid conversation because of his stupid bloodlust for shirtless men!

I could tell by the look in Gray's eyes that he was trying really hard not to laugh.

Don't you dare, I told him with my eyes.

He sucked in his cheeks and let out a breath. A good choice, on his end. I didn't really feel like releasing my wrath this early in the morning.

"Anyway." He said, mostly towards Loke. "Juvia and I are gonna go to the library. I'll see you later." He said to Loke, who in turn, gave me a suspicious look.

"Wait." He interrupted. "Are you guys…?"

I froze. Gray froze too.

"…Together…?" He ended, as if putting the pieces of the puzzle together in his head.

Gray looked at me, his face unreadable. I was still silently panicking.

I didn't look back. I couldn't.

"No." I answered quickly, without thinking. "We aren't."

Gray didn't move. I didn't move.

"Oh." Loke answered. "Nevermind then, See you around Gray." He waved and headed out of the commons.

It was silent for a long, uncomfortable moment. My breathing came out in short, quiet gasps. I couldn't believe I'd just said that. How did I just say that? Was I really that afraid?

I was too afraid to look at Gray. I didn't want to see his reaction – he was too quiet, too quiet to think I just said it as a joke. Too quiet to be forgiving.

"Gray…" my voice came out in an ugly little squeak. I finally forced myself to look at him. I wish I hadn't.

He was staring at me. His lips were parted, just barely, and I could see how confused and hurt he was in his eyes.

"Wow." He finally said, stepping backwards as if to steady himself. "Wow. So that's how it is?"

His tone was accusatory and I didn't blame him. It was a huge dick move on my part, I knew it, and I wish I could've just kept my big fat mouth shut and kept all my insecurities bottled up inside me like a normal freaking person.

"I…didn't…" I stammered. I didn't mean to, was what I wanted to say. But that would be a lie. I meant to say it…I just didn't mean to say it out loud.

Gray was giving me a look that I'd never seen before. Like he was just fed up with me.

Of course. It was only a matter of time.

"You didn't what?" He deadpanned, his voice void of anything that would give away his true emotions.

I didn't answer, I just stared at him, my eyes wide. I felt like maybe if I really wanted to I could cry, but I didn't want to do that. Not in front of Gray.

"I just don't understand," he shook his head and laughed bitterly. "You know, I could do it. I could handle not touching you in public even though I wanted to. I could've…done that. But I…" he trailed off, rubbing his temple in exhaustion. "But I can't do that. This is…where I'm drawing the line."

I couldn't believe it. It'd taken me two words. Two fucking words to ruin my whole relationship.

I was too stunned to say anything. My eyebrows were knitted together and I couldn't breathe. Gray stared at me, like he wanted me to say something.

But I had nothing to say – he was right. Totally right – I was the worst girlfriend ever, and he probably thought I hated him. I didn't, obviously, but I couldn't summon my voice to tell him so.

"You aren't going to say anything?" He asked, looking at me expectantly.

I made an abnormal squeaking sound and he looked like he almost wanted to laugh.

"…Fine." He sighed. "We'll…talk later." He decided. I blinked in surprise. I had been expecting a 'I-never-want-to-see-you-again' and not a 'we'll-talk-later'.

His hand reached out, like he wanted to touch me, but his hand quickly curled into a fist and pulled away. He turned and walked out of the commons, without another word.

Dammit. Dammit dammit dammit.

I stood there for god knows how long, just staring down at my hands as if I'd used them to reach into my chest and rip out my heart.

I really just had to go and ruin everything, didn't I? I just had to be so insecure about my relationship that I went and denied its very existence. Gray probably hated me because he thought I hated him. Welcome to the complicated and utterly ridiculous world of Juvia Lockser.

I didn't even hesitate as I began powering towards the girl's bathroom. I hoped that it would be relatively deserted save a few girls touching up their make-up for the school day. Then I could at least be relatively alone in my weakened state. I tried my best to maintain a straight face on my way there, but I could feel my flat lips twitching and my eyes stinging with unshed tears. God I am so weak.

I pushed open the bathroom door with my shoulder and was surprised to see only a couple of girls washing their hands and chatting while fixing their hair in the mirror. Perfect. I could wallow in my misery without them paying too much attention to me.

I walked into a bathroom stall and locked the door behind me. It was the same bathroom stall that some girl had just hotboxed and some other girl a week or so ago had torched a blackened, flaming hole through the toilet paper dispenser. Lovely.

I tried to blame my watering eyes on the potent smell of vape smoke, but even I couldn't fool my hazy brain. I squished my palm against my mouth, tightly, to prevent any sounds from escaping and leaned my back against the stall door, where someone had scratched 'in fair Verona where we lay our scene' with a car key (probably from some English class dork). I didn't know what to do. What could I do except hide in the bathroom for the whole school day and let myself be marked absent by my teachers?

I couldn't face Gray. If I saw him again I knew I'd cry, and it'd be a snow day in hell if I ever cried in front of Gray. Or my friends. Or anyone.

With that overwhelmingly negative thought, I made a decision.

I pulled out my phone and struggled with the passcode a couple of times before pulling up my contacts. I clicked the name of the only person who could help me now.

It rang once. Twice. Three times, before he finally decided to pick up.

"911, what's your emergency?"

I coughed out a laugh. He always had the weirdest opening statements.

"It's funny that you ask..." I said, hoping my voice sounded less strained than I knew it to be.

My dad sensed the tension in my voice. "What's wrong sweetheart? Did someone steal your lunch money?"

I chewed on my lip at my dad's earnest attempt at making me feel better. For some reason he still believed that stealing lunch money was the only means of bullying at my school. I kind of preferred he thought that way because it saved him from the horrors of what high school for me was really like.

"I don't feel good, dad." I told him, risking sounding like a whiny kindergartener in the process. He was silent for a beat, before responding.

"Why don't you come home then honey?" he asked, using the same voice he used to use whenever I mentioned my 'lady issues'. He probably thought this was one of those times and I just desperately needed a pick-me-up.

I sniffed. "Okay."

My dad seemed satisfied. "Alright, see you in a bit. Drive safe."

"Okay. See you." I responded flatly.

I set my phone down in my lap, the edge of my obnoxious sundress ruffling around the hem.

I was so unbelievably weak.

.

.

.

I had sat in my bed for over six hours. Six hours of staring at my ceiling in my ugliest pajamas, thinking of nothing but my numerous fuck-ups.

This had to be one of the least healthy things I'd done in a long time.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and cringed. My hair had been ruined and my mascara had made a lovely spider web print all over my eyelids. My sundress laid in a heap in the corner of the room. The punishment corner.

Never before had I felt so heartbroken and embarrassed in my life. Not even after I kissed Gray! And that was...an experience, to say the least.

I looked to the corner of my room, where Gray had kissed me and told me he wanted me.

I just had to go and change his mind, didn't I?

I picked up my phone from the floor and checked my notifications. I had missed a full day of school and had only one message.

It was from my mom, reminding me not to touch the lasagna in the fridge because that was hers.

I groaned and turned over in my bed. I scrolled down an inch to see Gray's name in my text messages. Nothing, of course. He had made it abundantly clear that the ball was in my court now. I had fucked this up, and I was the only person who could do or say anything about it.

I essentially had two options. Option one was to do as Gray was expecting and actually talk this out. Option two was to move away and never see or talk to Gray again, only occasionally listening to Coldplay and reading through our old texts while crying.

While both of these options were feasible, I was really only brave enough for the second option, pathetically enough.

But I didn't think I could do that to Gray. Maybe before, I could, but now, I valued his feelings a hell of a lot more than I probably should've. I couldn't hurt him like that – at least not any more than I already had.

My heart ached at the thought of the disappointment on his face when I had denied our relationship. He looked so profoundly hurt, just remembering it made me want to cry.

My phone buzzed, and reluctantly I looked at the notifications tab.

Hey Cupcake – come in early today, I want to show you something ;)

I almost gagged. The text was from mine and Gray's boss, Dylan. His disgusting infatuation with me had lasted only a few weeks now but I had yet to mention it to Gray. Dylan was a nasty, skeevy 23 year old with no life who only saw me as a boob on a stick, which was probably why I'd resigned to dressing like a slob whenever I went to work. Gray didn't mind – he never did.

I was almost distracted by my dreamy thought of Gray before my thoughts went back to the text.

Wait…did he say 'come in early'?

"Fuck." I said aloud. That's right…I had work today. Because of Gray. I had work with Gray in a tiny cramped booth. "Fuck me in my little asshole. Fuck."

I glanced at the time. 3:47. Work was at 4:30.

I looked down at myself. I was wearing a ratty U2 t-shirt that used to belong to my dad and black leggings. I was the picture of a depressed girlfriend.

I pulled on mismatched thick socks because my feet always got cold at the rink, and decided that maybe I would go into work early. Not for smelly Dylan, of course. For Gray. Maybe if I caught him before our shift started, we could at least work out a mutual friendship agreement to make our hours together less painfully awkward. The thought of finalizing our breakup sent my stomach churning.

I chewed on my bottom lip while I laced up my converse. My mind was racing with possibilities, almost all of them ending in utter disaster. I had this terrible habit of letting my imagination run completely amuck and inventing scenarios that, however implausible, haunted me on the daily. I think it was called clinical anxiety. Probably.

I stood up and pulled my hair into a high messy bun. I hadn't brushed it since that morning and it was like running my hands through a field of brambles.

I looked at myself in the mirror and saw a miserable, determined face. So…not all that different than normal. Still. I could just barely recall the smiling face of the girl who had left for school that morning. It was crazy how just one person could brighten my day so much. It was also crazy that I'd managed to kill that happiness in less than a minute.

I slid on my light swimmer's jacket and grabbed my keys. It was time to begin operation: please don't dump me, Gray.

.

.

.

The civic arena was empty. That was pretty weird, honestly, for a Friday. But it was May, and business was slower than usual. Still, there was something eerie about the emptiness of the building. I had spotted Gray's truck in the parking lot when I got there, though, meaning that Gray had received a similar gross text from Dylan, or, he was doing what he loved most. Skating.

I was pretty confident that he was out on the ice, maybe shooting some pucks or something. He did that occasionally before work. Sometimes I would watch, without telling him. Not in a creepy way, it was just fun to watch him completely in his element, absorbed by the adrenaline of the sport and firing those little black pucks clear across the ice like a cannonball.

It didn't hurt to watch those arm muscles at work, either. Yum.

I wandered through the hallways of the rink, sneaking past snack machines and doorways like 007. The last thing I wanted was to run into Dylan and let him think that I had come early because of his weird text. Gross.

I slid past the room where Gray and I worked. The snack bar, which was also attached to the skating rental place.

Which, unfortunately, gave me an idea. A terrible, terrible idea.

Without thinking, I dashed into the skating rental room and grabbed a pair of skates that would probably fit me. Dylan wouldn't mind if I borrowed them for just a bit. Hopefully.

I snuck through a back hallway that led to one of the main entrances to the actual skating rink. Without thinking, I pushed the doors open quietly, a rush of ice-cold air hitting me in the face as I did so. Yikes. This was going to be so, so terrible.

I heard the telltale sound of skates scraping against the ice. Just as I suspected, I was correct. Gray was out on the ice, smacking a stick at a bunch of little circles in the center of the rink. He hadn't noticed my abrupt entrance, which was good, considering I was about to embarrass myself even further.

God. he looked so cute. He was wearing that brown jacket that I liked and dark jeans. He looked so tall on the ice, so powerful. I wanted to run up and hug him, knowing that even in the cold he'd still be warm. Ordinarily, if I did so he'd probably respond with a laugh and he'd do something dumb like fling me across the ice because he found it absolutely hilarious that I skated like a giraffe with legs made out of macaroni noodles.

Fuck. I was going to make myself cry.

I bent over, low to the ground so Gray wouldn't see me, and shoved the ice skates onto my feet. This was a terrible, terrible idea. Not only could I not skate if my life depended on it, but the last thing Gray wanted to see at this point in time was me. Maybe if I was lucky, he'd smack me into a coma with his hockey stick. But only if I was lucky.

"Fuck me." I murmured, looking down at my messy skates, firmly attached to my feet. It was now or never. As much as I hoped that the choice would be never, I owed Gray this.

I wobbled onto my feet and pulled myself up to the entrance to the rink. Gray still hadn't noticed me, thank god.

I tentatively pulled one foot onto the ice. It stayed put. The second I began moving the other, however, I nearly slammed my forehead into the wooden wall.

"Fuck," I whispered. Gray was still distracted by the hockey pucks, about 9 of them, near his feet.

Finally, both my feet were on the ice. I nervously released the railing and allowed myself to stand, unmoving, for a solid ten seconds. Nothing moved. I was set.

I began to walk, in tiny, baby-steps. Gray always laughed at me when I did this, he'd say something like "Juvia, you need to skate, not walk!" Well that was a lot easier said than done.

"Come on Juvia. Just like roller skating." I mumbled to myself. I had moved a grand total of three feet forward.

I looked up and my breath caught. Gray was looking at me, silently. He seemed slightly amused, from the distance he was at. Before I could even offer a meek wave, he began skating towards me, at top speed.

It took him a second and a half to reach me, and by reach me I mean almost crash directly into me. Before impact, I heard myself let out a little embarrassing shriek, because Gray was heavy as hell and I knew for a fact that a crash landing on the ice was going to hurt like hell.

Before he could make a pancake out of me, Gray stopped short, letting his skates skim the ice and spray my ankles with frost.

Fuck. Fuck, I hated it when he did that to me!

I glowered at him, which he seemed to find slightly entertaining. Before I could make my intentions clear, he began to speak.

"What are you doing here?" He asked, surveying my appearance, skates and all.

I sucked in a breath of air. Come on, confidence.

"I'm glad you asked. I-"

My last word came out as more of a yelp because one of my skates betrayed me and took my leg for a roadtrip to the left.

Gray, with his ungodly reflexes, reached out and steadied me with only one hand. It gripped the underside of my upper arm like steel.

"Oh! Thanks." I gasped, I was not expecting him to do something like that. I had been expecting a crash landing and maybe a round of applause from Gray, enjoying my pain more than ever. Instead, I received a quick save and a look of blistering concern from him.

I sputtered, like a dying car. "You – you should be more upset!" I finally yelled. "What's wrong with you?"

He cracked a smile. "It's hard to stay mad at you."

I blinked. He had quite literally melted me in a sentence. I felt my face fall and my jaw drop.

"I – would disagree!" I argued. "It's very easy to stay mad at me!"

He shrugged, and removed his tight grip from my upper arm and relocated to my waist.

I glared at him. He was terrible at this. He should be more angry. He should be whacking me with his hockey stick.

"But…I'm a bad girlfriend." I told him. He looked at me like I was a complete dumbass.

"You're not." He said simply.

"I – no. You're wrong."

"Am I?" He countered. At this point he had begun skating slowly, as if this were a simple lover's quarrel and we were going for a walk around the park.

"Stop that!" I resisted, almost causing a face-plant. He steadied me.

"Stop wiggling," He advised. "You're terrible at this."

"You're terrible at this." I told him. Then, I blinked. What was I doing? He had completely taken me off guard and made me forget my initiative! Bastard!

"Hey!" I interjected, whacking him on the shoulder. "You're avoiding the subject!"

"What subject?" He asked in mock confusion.

"The subject that I'm a terrible person!" I informed him. He shook his head.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"God!" I nearly screamed. "Gray, would you listen to me? I'm-"

"Juvia," he suddenly stopped skating, nearly sending me flying. He expertly maneuvered his hand to keep me from sliding away and steadied me so I was standing before him, still embarrassingly several inches from meeting him at his height.

"Listen." He began, taking my shoulders in his hands all-too comfortingly. "I thought about what happened this morning, and…yeah, I was pretty mad. But I get it – it was my fault, you're not ready for something like that, and I shouldn't push you to be at the same level that I am."

I gaped at him. The nerve! He was trying to take the blame!

"Dickhead!' I exclaimed. "That's not what happened!"

"Juvia, seriously, it's ok!" He told me while laughing. He thought it was pretty funny that I had the nerve to call him a dickhead while trying to apologize. "I understand that you're not ready."

"I am ready!" I argued loudly. "And no, you don't understand! God, Gray-" I cut myself off with a choking sound. Fuck. I needed to cry. I could feel my tears like I could feel a sneeze. There was no stopping them. I stared down at the ice, willing myself to suck the tears back into my eye sockets, but I wasn't nearly that powerful.

Gray's hand rested on my back. He used his other hand to pull me upwards so that I was standing instead of bent at a 90 degree angle.

"Then help me understand," he asked. I bit my bottom lip and nodded a few times, almost hysterically. I hoped that he couldn't see the solid buildup of tears that were pooled in my eyes, but I wasn't exactly the master of subtlety.

I am Juvia Lockser, and I've never cried in front of anyone.

Until I did.

I slammed my hands to my eyes and let out an obnoxious wail. Gray held me upwards, like this is precisely what he was expecting. His hockey stick dropped to the ground with a light smack.

I was full-on sobbing now. God motherfucking dammit. I wouldn't let myself remove my hands from my face because I didn't want to see Gray and…you know, vice versa.

"It's okay." I heard Gray say. I felt him adjust his grip on me, gently, probably because he knew if he moved me too much I'd fall flat on my ass onto the ice. He pressed my head to his shoulder so I wouldn't have to use my hands to cover my face.

I felt myself relax. He was so warm and perfect. He grabbed my tear-soaked hands and pressed them to his chest. He was trying to keep them warm.

I felt my heart melt like a bar of chocolate in a hot car and my crying slowed a little bit.

"Don't cry," Gray said halfheartedly. He knew full well that it was too late. I'd turned on the waterworks, and there was at least a 5 minute waiting period before I'd be able to turn them off.

"How can you do it?" I asked, my voice muffled through the fabric of his jacket.

"Do what?" He asked me, gently, like if he spoke to loudly I'd scamper away like a deer at a birdfeeder.

"Be around me?" I asked, defeated. He just had to know. He had to know that I couldn't be around him, how could I do that to him?

"You?" He asked, like he didn't understand what I was saying. Of course he didn't.

"Me." I verified. I lifted my head a little so that my voice was easier to hear. "How can I…how can I let you be seen with me? You're you! And I'm…"

"How can you say that?" He asked me. He reached up and grabbed my cheeks gingerly, before forcing me to look at him.

Fuck. He is so cute. And I must've looked like a rat that had been dead for 6 and a half years. He pushed my hair back and smiled, like nothing at all was wrong.

He breathed out, all dramatic-like. My heart pounded as he moved his face forward, resting his forehead on mine comfortably.

"You're so…dumb." He told me. I looked up at him, suddenly not caring that my face was probably blotchy with tears and my eyes were undoubtedly red and gross.

"What?"

He rolled his eyes and stepped back, leisurely skating backwards. He pulled me along with him, annoyingly enough. I stayed completely frozen in fear of taking a nose dive. I hated how easy it was for him to skate, like he was going for a walk in the park.

"You really think," he began, looking at me sideways, "that I give an honest fuck what anybody thinks about me?"

He stopped skating and I slid directly into him. I ran directly into his collarbone, and my arms flew around his neck in a desperate attempt to keep myself from getting a horizontal nose job.

His index finger found its home in the notch beneath my chin and tilted my head up at a thirty degree angle. I scowled at him, because he knew I hated it when he did that.

"You think I care what that dumbfuck Loke thinks?" He asked, the corner of his mouth tilting up into a half-smile. "What that idiot Natsu thinks? Juvia, I'd rather gut myself with a fish hook than let any of those fucking morons dictate what I do with my life."

I stared at him. Not because I was shocked by his words – I think deep down, I kind of knew it all along. I just couldn't believe how much he sounded like…me.

I couldn't help it. I smiled.

Without thinking about balance or my own safety, I yanked his head down to meet mine and met him in a sloppy, tear-stained kiss. My forehead bumped his and I pressed harder, desperately trying to make up for my mistakes. He eagerly complied, allowing himself to be dragged forward by my grip on his jacket and his warm hand met the small of my back gently.

At that point I became a little too eager, and just when I was about to foolishly intensify the kiss I pulled too hard on Gray's jacket and he jerked backwards, making perhaps the least graceful fall in the world's history jealous as he took the fattest wipeout I've ever seen. Maybe even worse than every fall I've ever taken.

Without thinking, I started laughing really hard. I've never seen Gray fall on the ice. Ever. He was probably more comfortable on the ice than he was on the sweet, sweet ground, and there he was, on his back, completely shocked.

"You're right," I gasped in between laughs, "it is funny." This was the sweetest revenge for every time he laughed his ass off at my faceplants.

He fisted his hair and let out a pathetic laugh. "You're really distracting."

"Uh-huh." I agreed. It was particularly delicious seeing the world's most perfect man, after bearing my heart to him, take a tumble for the worst.

"Why don't you help me up?" He asked suggestively, sitting up and raising is hand up to me weakly.

"Oh no, absolutely not. Nice try." I waved my hands in front of me in surrender. He was cunning alright…bastard.

"Very cruel." He stated, before hauling himself up with ease. He skated forward, dragging me along for the ride because he knew very well I wasn't capable of moving on my own.

He looked down at me with a wistful look on his face and rubbed my cheek with his thumb, which kind of hurt considering my whole face was raw with dried tears.

"You shouldn't cry, you know." He told me. "You're so pale your face gets super red and blotchy and you end up looking like a sour patch kid."

"Bite me." I hissed. He had to ruin the moment.

He laughed, before accepting. "Alright. You might like it, though."

"Gross." I pulled a face and he took it upon himself to follow through with his almost-threat.

He bit my bottom lip and I cringed. "You bite hard." I observed. He gave me a wicked grin.

"Practice?" He offered as an explanation.

"Practice what? Chewing granite?" I asked sarcastically. He shrugged, like it was a possibility, and I shook my head.

Gray pushed me towards the exit to the rink slowly, his hand acting like a crutch for me to lean on. Which was necessary, considering my…lack of grace.

"We should – um, we should get ready for work." I suggested, suddenly shy again. Gray shrugged, disinterested.

"Oh yeah, because our job requires so much preparation." He said. "Gotta make sure the popcorn machine is fully functional."

"Ha-ha." I remarked dryly. "If you really must know, what I meant was that we should get these skates off before Dylan sees us."

"Fair." He agreed. "You want help getting your skates off? I know how…spatially challenged you are."

I scoffed. "Yeah, and while we're at it why don't you show me how to fasten my bra?"

His eyebrows shot up. "Well, I could certainly give you a few pointers…"

"You're so ugly." I drawled, pulling on the back of his hair. It had gotten pretty long since we'd first met…almost long enough for a little baby ponytail…mmm…

"You wish." He replied, before lifting me up like a kitten off of the ice and safely onto the concrete.

"I don't appreciate that." I huffed. He found it way too funny that he had the ability to do that.

"Don't be a baby." He schooled. "Go take off your skates before Dylan finds us."

I hobbled forward and onto a nearby bench where I could safely remove my skates. Gray sat beside me and got to work diligently.

It took him a minute and a half to fully remove his skates, his dexterous fingers used to the simple action. My dumb fingers on the other hand took their sweet fucking time just unlacing one skate.

He let out a soft laugh at the difficulty the skates were causing me. "You sure you don't want help?"

"Absolutely." I spat. "I just don't want to rush."

"Sure you don't." He swung his skates over his shoulder and headed towards the exit.

"Don't leave without me," I whined, suddenly aware of how far I was from actually removing the skates. I should've accepted his help.

"Relax, I'm just gonna go drop my skates off. I'll come back and if you're not done by the time I'm back I'm helping you whether you like it or not." He declared. I shrugged, it was a fair assessment.

I heard the door swing shut, signaling his exit, and I glared at the skates I had been untying. I don't know how I managed to knot them up even more than they previously were. I chewed my lip in speculation – the last thing I needed was Gray to see me royally fail at something he was incredible at. Again.

I tilted my head in an attempt to assess the laces in a different light, but was met with an odd surprise.

"So, you got my text after all."

My head whipped around extravagantly. "Dylan?"

He gave me a once-over. "What…are you doing?"

I almost choked. "I – uh, I'm testing the, uh…skates."

"Uh-huh." He replied. I stared at him for a beat or two, unsure of where this conversation seemed to be going. He coughed and resumed his sentence from before. "So, my text…"

"Your…" I blanked, trying to remember what text he was referring to. "Text! Right. Yes. That text you sent me. I remember that."

This answer, although a blatant lie, seemed to please him.

"So, check this out," he began, making uncharacteristic small talk and taking an all-too-comfortable seat next to me on the bench. He then pulled his maroon long-sleeved track jacket up to reveal the upper half of his arm. "I got a new tattoo a couple of days ago, thought you might appreciate it."

I studied his new work of skin art. It was small and blocky, and located right on the curve of the tricep. It looked almost like…

"Get it?" He asked, with a condescending grin. "It's a gun."

"Uh-huh." I agreed, not seeing the artistic value that he seemed to find so pressing. "And you thought I'd appreciate this?"

"Well, yeah." He rolled his eyes like it was obvious and I was dumb for not seeing what he saw. "I figured a girl like you could appreciate art like that. You know, most girls don't really value the work guys put into their arms, but, you seem very…"

He trailed off and smiled like the sentence made complete sense as a fragment. I looked at him like he'd just taken a fat ketamine injection.

His eyes made a flickering motion, like he was restraining himself from looking me up-and-down.

Sometimes I really hated the fact that I was 18.

"Oh-kay." I stated flatly, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the situation.

"Okay." He repeated, clearly not translating my social cues into the simple English phrase get away from me creep. "So, you dig?"

"Oh, sure." I nodded for a few moments too many.

"Thought you would." He clicked his tongue in appreciation. "So, does that mean you wanna hang at my place later tonight? Maybe watch a movie, I just got Human Centipede 3: Final Sequence…"

I said nothing. I just stared. How on this obviously flat earth had he come to that conclusion? What back-breaking leap in logic had he taken to reach the epic conclusion of 'you like my tattoo = let's have sex while watching gore porn at my apartment'?

I didn't have a chance to respond, probably because I stared at him for at least 15 seconds after being awkwardly propositioned, giving a certain someone enough time to come back and help me.

"Dylan." Gray's firm voice came from behind us, and I snapped out of the third dimension and looked back at him.

"Hey, kid." Dylan greeted. He had this special way of addressing Gray only as 'kid' or 'sport' to make him seem young and unimportant. I think it was a guy thing, but what do I know.

Gray had a kind of terrifying half-serial-killer smile plastered on his face.

"What are you doing?" He asked Dylan, his tone a little too confrontational for my liking.

"We're just talking, kid. Relax." Dylan laughed it off. "Right Julia?"

I choked on a laugh. "Right. Totally." I met Gray's eyes and silently told him not to freak and that I'd tell him all about the awkward experience later.

"Well," Dylan began, standing up and dusting off his pants. "You guys should probably get to work."

"Probably." Gray agreed icily. Dylan gave him a weird look and turned around to leave.

"See ya." He said in my direction. I nodded with a tight look on my face. That had to top the list of my top ten weirdest interactions with a man…and that was saying quite a bit.

Gray took a seat at the bench, except he sat on the far side, as far away from me as he could possibly get. Before I could complain, or cry about it, he tapped the spot next to him and I realized what he wanted.

I reluctantly lifted my leg up on the bench so my skate-clad foot could rest comfortably between his legs. He began to untie them, slowly, and didn't make a sound while doing so.

"Gray?" I asked quietly. "Are you…?"

He looked up and smiled softly. "So? What's his move?"

"His…move?" I inquired slowly. For a moment their I had been positive he was pissed at me, but his words came with a strong sense of humor and relief.

He nodded and I thought for a moment.

"I think it was his tattoo." I responded, still trying to piece together me and Dylan's short conversation. "Or…maybe Human Centipede 3: Final Sequence."

"Wow." He responded, finishing untying my first skate and gingerly removing it from my foot. "How do I even stand a chance?"

I moved my other foot up on the bench so he could assist me and I grinned. "You don't. How could you? It's the Final Sequence."

He laughed. "The Final one! Not the first or second, but the Final. I was doomed from the start." He removed the last skate and I felt my smile stay put, pleased with his light-hearted take on the situation.

He looked me in the eyes for a moment and stood, bringing me up with him by the wrists. "Do I need to get a tattoo?" He asked me.

I considered it. "Maybe. After all, no girl can resist a good tattoo. Especially if it's pun-based."

"Right here?" He asked, pulling at the neck of his shirt to reveal a portion of his defined pectoral muscle.

"Fuck you." I said. He knew what he was doing.

"Whoa! That's a little hostile, don't you think?" He asked, snaking his arm around my waist and resting his restless fingers on the side of my hip.

"Maybe you should get a tattoo," he mused. "Right...here, would be my pick." He rested his hand on my upper thigh and I almost smacked his hand away.

I stared at him. He looked back, probably expecting a sharp-tongued reply. I said nothing. I just looked at his dumb perfect face and smiled. Then, I got up on my tip-toes and kissed him firmly on the cheek.

"I'm glad you didn't dump me." I told him in a mysterious bout of honesty. He looked puzzled at my soft-spoken outburst.

"When was that on the table?" He asked, genuinely confused by my train of thought.

"Nevermind." I responded, biting my lip and running my finger over his jaw. He was looking particularly fine in that moment and there was no way I was going to work without kissing him senseless. He obviously shared my sentiment because he began to crane his neck in the slightest so that I had easy access to his adorable dumb mouth.

"HEY! GET TO WORK!" Dylan's voice echoed over the loudspeaker from the booth of the ice rink. Fuck. I was this close.

"To be continued…" Gray murmured as he kissed my hairline and grabbed my hand. I smiled at him, my newfound confidence beating annoyingly in my chest like a second heart.

His hand flexed within mine, almost mirroring the anxious fluttering in my stomach – the drunken high that came whenever we were together.

He was my worst nightmare. A wall-breaker. An equally sarcastic disaster. So ridiculously attractive. And dense.

And I loved him for it.

.

.

.

My summer went something like this.

Work. Gray. Sleep. Friends. Gray. College. Probably a little bit more Gray.

What can I say? I was a predictable girl.

Nevertheless, late August was at my doorstep faster than I expected. I had been dreading this day – for obvious reasons – but the day came anyway.

My mom cried. Hard. Mascara-dripping, on-her-knees-wailing, Kleenex-wielding crying. My dad had a more stoic approach, softly singing Tom Petty songs to himself while packing my things up for college. It was his way of coping.

"You don't have to go!" My mother cried. "You can just live in the basement! Like the family of opossums that used to live there!"

"As tempting as that sounds," I pried my mother away from her bone-crushing hug and dusted myself off. "I think I'll be less likely to get radon poisoning on campus."

My mom continued to babble on while I helped my dad lift bags of my most necessary belongings into the car.

These goodbyes I knew would be some of the hardest, as had most of my other goodbyes. I had spent a majority of my summer with my closest friends, even integrating my weird friends with my regular friends and finally introducing them to my boyfriend. I smiled in remembrance of the night I first brought him to an outing with them, the dumbass looks on their faces will be cherished by me forever.

Anyway. Two days ago I had said goodbye to Erza and Jellal who – surprise surprise – were going to the same college, Magnolia University. They would be joined by Lucy and Natsu, of course. I'd be the first to admit I cried like a baby when I said goodbye to Erza. She was my best friend and even though I knew we'd try our best to stay in contact with each other, we both knew it just wouldn't be the same. We would never be the same.

My other friend's goodbyes passed by like shadows, each branded with a tearful face and a strong hug followed by promises of daily calls and get-togethers. Sweet nothings.

Call me cynical, but I could see past the veil of uncertainty. I knew that it could've very well been the last time I was seeing some of my friends. It was heartbreaking – but necessary.

My goodbye with Gajeel wasn't long because we both agreed that we'd be sharing an apartment by sophomore year since we wouldn't be that far from one another, and Gajeel was possibly the only person who I'd trust enough to sleep in the same room as me. Our goodbye was more of a 'see you in a year or two, dingus' and a casual wave. I wanted to say more than that though. Gajeel had been my personal diary for years and now I'd have no one to vent my unhealthy emotions to and I'd have to bottle them up where they could fester quietly until I saw him again. I'm sure he'd appreciate all my young adult angst being poured on him like a bucket of lava by the time we started living together.

Yes. That sounded great.

My most tearful goodbye, even more so than my emotional mother, was Sting by far. I'd seen him cry before. The finale of The Bachelorette, for example, was a real faucet-leaker for him since he had decided preemptively that every man in the house was gay and that it was unacceptable for them to end up with a blonde bimbo at the end of the season. But that was nothing compared to the college-pocalypse.

Of all my friends, I think I may actually be forced into maintaining my friendship with him – only due to his severe neediness and the man chain-texted like a teenage girl on instagram withdrawal.

Sting was going to college out-of-state, about an hour and a half from Holy Angels. He promised me that we would have monthly meet-ups at a pole-dancing class in a fun little building called ExperTease where we would both learn how to seduce with the art of burlesque dancing. Naturally, of course.

Sting also made sure that our relationship would remain intact by withholding information about how he and Rogue officially began dating. I knew there was a story behind that, but he refused to tell me until we were both meeting up during our college tenure.

Bastard.

Anyway, all those goodbyes finally brought me here, at my curb, just minutes from departing.

But I was still waiting.

My dad rubbed my arm and looked at me sadly. "It's ok. He'll be here."

I made a face. He of all people had the most hope in my tardy boyfriend. He'd spent the last week and a half with his family on a cruise to the Panama Canal, thus forcing us to push our goodbyes to my final minutes at home.

Yes, you heard me right. Goodbyes. Like everyone else, I had to say goodbye to my boyfriend. And I knew it was going to hurt like a stab wound to the urethra.

He was flying in today from Fort Lauderdale, and was supposed to have landed 45 minutes ago, but it seemed he was insisting on being late to our impromptu tearful goodbye.

The tears would be courtesy of me, of course. He'd probably be more than happy to get rid of me.

I mentally slapped myself. That was the wrong sentiment to have – especially now. Gray had spent way too much time with me this summer to have harbored a secret hatred for me – as he liked to remind me every time I got a distant look on my face during one of our dates.

My dad murmured something vaguely sexual to my mother, probably reminding her that once I was out of the house, they were free to have sex wherever they pleased.

Ew. I can't believe I just thought that with my own brain.

I looked down at my feet, now covered in my favorite pair of brown leather knee-high boots. They made my legs look totally kick-ass. I was wearing a pair of pale ripped jeans and a cream-colored sweater, the perfect fall ensemble. I even wore some makeup for my dumb boyfriend, and here he was, being a dickhole and making me wait.

I bit my lip and peeked down the street, hoping to see his truck down the way. My feet tip-toed the curb anxiously, awaiting.

Fuck. This boy really had me on my knees.

I closed my eyes and prayed to Satan that he would give me this one thing, just this one thing to hold on to while I was in college. I couldn't miss this.

"Juvia," my dad called. He had a sad smile on his face like he still had hope that Gray would arrive and sweep me off my feet. Sometimes I wondered if my dad loved Gray more than I did. "Your mother and I are going to go make some food for the road."

Something about his tone was finalizing, telling me that by the time they came out of the house, it was time to go.

"Where are you," I wondered under my breath, pulling at my sweater uncomfortable and knocking my toes together like Dorothy.

I picked up my phone, tempted to try and call him. On one hand, if he had forgotten about me, I could remind him and pretend to not be heartbroken. On the other hand, if he was on his way, I didn't want him to answer the phone while driving.

I decided to put my faith in him. I slipped my phone into my back pocket and waited.

I chose correctly.

Gray's truck flung around the corner like a hot wheels toy and nearly plowed over my neighbors mailbox. I had to restrain myself from running into the truck arms-widespread in excitement, but since that would undoubtedly end with my bloody exaggerated death I stayed put at the curb.

He parked messily next to my driveway and jumped out of the driver's seat. He looked positively radiant, even though his fly was open and his shirt was riding up. Actually, the shirt part made him look better, if I do say so myself.

"Hey." He greeted, meeting my stance across from me. His feet were half on the curb and half on the street, the curve of the barrier separating us like an invisible wall.

"Hi." I responded, unable to contain my smile. "Your fly is down."

He looked down quickly and swore. "Fuck me." He zipped it up in a half a second and I chewed on my lip anxiously. I was overjoyed that he had made it. But it was also hitting me. It was hitting me that this was goodbye. This was the last time I'd be reminding him to zip his fly up.

He noticed my eyes welling with tears before I even felt them form.

"Hey, hey, come on." He smiled sympathetically and cradled the back of my neck with his hands. His soft, warm hands. Fuck. I was so fucked.

"I'm sorry." I whimpered in between bouts of newly born tears. "I just – I can't –"

"It's okay." He smiled sadly. "Remember what I told you?"

I sniffed. "Always pee after sex?"

He laughed. "Not that. The other thing."

I nodded. "Oh. That."

He smiled. "That's my girl." Oh, fuck. Now he had to go and do that.

I let out a pathetic sob and he pulled me into a hug. Firm and strong, like he didn't intend on letting me go. My arms met on his shoulder blades, pulling myself up so I could rest my chin on his shoulder. He rubbed my back like he did whenever I got cramps and he kissed the side of my head.

"It's not goodbye, you know." He said softly. I could barely hear him through my whimpering, but I tried to summon a nod against his massive shoulder.

"It's more like…" He trailed off, "see you later."

I laughed and held onto him tighter. I knew the minute I let go it would all be real. If I let go he'd be free to get back into his truck and drive away. Drive away from me - us.

The decision to break up had been mutual. Heartbreakingly mutual – we knew that a long distance relationship had no place in the midst of our equally difficult course loads. No, breaking up was the best way to save us the heartache of maintaining a strained relationship. This was the only way.

"But I don't want to see you later." I murmured. He hummed and continued to rub circles on my back. "I just want to see you."

"I know." He mumbled. "I know."

Only the most well-versed in the study of Gray Fullbuster would catch the break in his voice. It was all I needed. He was hurting as much as I was – he was just much more dedicated to comforting me than he was to breaking down.

"I wish we had more time." I admitted. "I wish I would've been braver."

"Nah." He disagreed. "I think it worked out the way it was supposed to."

"You think so?" I answered sarcastically. "You think all this was meant to happen?"

"More or less." He replied. "I could've done without the slow-burn, though."

I laughed. "You think that's slow-burn?"

"Yes!" He nodded confidently. "It took me way too damn long to wise up. I'd call that slow-burn."

"Well, I won't disagree with you there…" I reasoned. He must've found that mildly amusing, because he responded by shifting my head so that our foreheads could meet. God, his skin was so perfect. Like a warm velvet blanket.

He chewed the inside of his mouth nervously. I loved that I could notice those things now – his little tics, things that only the sharpest of eyes could see.

"I'll-" he began, cutting himself off with a small voice crack. "I'll miss you, Juvia."

"I'll miss you too." I responded, not missing a beat. There were still tears in my eyes, and I felt the lump in my throat widen painfully.

"You know what," he said, suddenly distracting himself. "I have something for you."

He reached into his pocket and fished out a large envelope, with my name on the outside in his handwriting.

"What…" I stuttered as he placed it into my hands, like it was his prized possession.

I looked down at it, eager to see what he had in store. He read my mind as usual, eyes flickering with mirth.

"You can't open it now," he told me sternly.

"Why not?" I asked him, disappointment flooding my tone.

"It's…for another time." He closed my hands over the letter, protecting it from my greedy eyes. "A time when you'll really need it. When you're missing me a little bit too much."

My heart pounded. What in god's name could he be withholding from me?

"Just trust me." He advised. "Okay?"

"Okay." I agreed. I was so going to open it the minute I arrived on campus.

He stared at me for a minute. "You're going to open it the second I leave, aren't you?"

I looked at the ground. He sighed.

"Well, I can't stop you." He reasoned.

I looked up at him and gave him my best I'm-sorry look. I had a lot of practice with that one considering I had the patience of a newborn.

He stared for a minute, his thumb tracing the curve of my jaw. Memorizing it. As much as I wanted to indulge myself in a delicious moment of basking in Gray's beautiful aura, I knew my parents would emerge from my house any minute.

"My parents will be coming soon," I told him, hinting, while glancing back at my front door.

He took my hint and tilted my head to meet me in a searing kiss. One I wouldn't soon forget. He tasted salty, and his thumbs pressed on my cheeks urgently. I realized later that the salty taste was me, or more specifically my drying tears. He was unrelenting, and I matched his fervor because this was it. This was the end.

He began to pull away but I wasn't having it. I pulled him back and kissed him again. Hard. He'd remember me. No matter how many beautiful pencil-skirt hussies he met at business school, he'd always remember me. I wouldn't let him forget.

He grinned when I finally made the difficult decision to pull away. He pushed the hair behind my ear that had decided to run amuck during our makeout.

"Wow Juvia. I didn't know you had that in you."

I almost vomited at the sound of his voice.

"Dad! Gross." I yelled back at him. He leaned against the car and laughed. Gray waved at him sheepishly and my dad smiled.

"Hate to break up the party, but…you know." My dad motioned towards the car and I felt my tears threaten to rain down like Victoria Falls.

I looked back at Gray, desperately, my fingers clutching the envelope he had given me. I wanted to beg. I wanted to change my mind and give long-distance a try. But I couldn't.

Gray kissed my forehead, and lingered. I closed my eyes and just felt him. Just for a minute. My last minute.

"Gray…I-" I had to say it. I had to. "I-"

He put two fingers over my lips and smiled. "Don't." He said, before letting his fingers slip away. "I already know."

I blinked away tears. I was going to miss him so much.

"You do." I agreed. And I kissed him one last time, with abandon, throwing my arms around his neck and praying that he could feel all my love and gratitude for the time he had given me. A little piece of heaven.

I pulled away and he looked flushed. Ha! For once I was the one who could make him blush. Take that, patriarchy.

"I'll see you again." He said, firmly.

I smiled sadly, the words heavy on my tongue. "No promises."

"Not a promise." He clarified. "A bet."

"Is that so?" I asked.

He nodded. "Somehow I doubt I'm escaping you this easily."

"Maybe so." I replied. I hugged him again, inhaling the lingering smell of Gain Flings (his mother's cheap alternative to Tide Pods) and trying to commit the scent to memory.

"Time to go." My dad said. He was in the car already, seated beside my mother who was dabbing at her eyes with off-brand Kleenex.

Gray stayed at the curb as I departed from our hug. He was rooted. His hands slowly released mine like I was nothing but smoke in the air. I walked backwards, unable to break eye contact, before getting into the car and shutting the door. And also clicking the lock, in case I got any wild ideas.

Gray stood at the curb, feet planted and eyes dark. I only watched as his silhouette faded, frozen, as the car backed out of the driveway and began its trek to my future home.

I looked down at my hands, tears clouding my vision. My hands were painfully crushing the envelope he had given me. A selfless gift. I couldn't imagine what was held within its contents.

My hand skimmed the opening, tempted to tear it open and read his final words to me. Words that he'd hoped I would save for a rainy day - a day where I missed him so much, it hurt.

My wandering hands paused.

I could wait.

It wasn't goodbye. It was 'see you later'.

It was forever.

.

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.

yall...i cannot tell you how happy i am that i finished this! when i first started this story, i was 14, a freshmen, a virgin, and an IDIOT, and now im 18, still kind of dumb, and on my way to college this fall!

i cant thank you all enough for your continuous support. i have met some of the kindest people on here and on tumblr and youve all changed my life for the better. thank you for putting up woth my utter nosense all this time, and apologies for the late-ass updates. a lot has happened this year, whew.

love you all so much!

kt