Disclaimer: All characters appearing in this work are fictitious; I own nothing but my ideas.

Repost from tumblr, from a request of a one-sided relationship. (I revel in angst, I'm afraid.) Unbeta-ed.

Even as Gray slams in, slides out, slams in—

He can feel it, he can hear a name that's not his, on the tip of her tongue, and it drives him insane, drives him deeper like he can bury himself in his grief. Lucy's eyes are screwed shut and a tear streaks down the side of her head, dripping into golden hair that Gray longs to tangle his fingers in, but knows he has no right. Her breaths come out in silent hiccups and she places a hand on his forearm, clutching him, urging him harder, faster.

Something twists low in his gut and he bites down on his lip, watching as she moves against him, writhing, panting, beautiful. She's utterly beautiful and her heart belongs to someone else, someone who doesn't appreciate her soft skin and fierce eyes and compassionate soul.

Gray wants to believe she's doing this because she wants to, because she loves him, but her choked off sobs wrack her body and shake him to his very core. They're not because of him. It's someone else; it's always someone else.

He wants to ask, is it because I'm no good? Am I not good enough? The only thing that comes out, however, is a grunt as he thrusts, once, twice, shudders. Exhales.

Leaning down, Gray brushes his lips against her collarbone, a small, selfish token he takes for himself before drawing back and gently removing himself. Her eyes are already towards the door, glazed.

Later, if the shower water tastes of salt, it's nobody's business but his.