A/N: Happy belated birthday to the lovely constelluna! Your art is phenomenal and I can't believe you're following me so I'ma write something for your art.

I'm a little rusty here, so sorry if it's awful and sorry it's a little late, but it's 13.5k and about 41 pages. So boom!

Fandom: Fairy Tail

Pairing: NaLu

Rating: M - swearing, sexual imagery and content, [[no full-fledged sex scene]]

Summary: Keeping up with your classmates at the most prestigious art school in the country is hard enough without distractions. But for Natsu, the blonde he caught in the art store was more than welcome to drop into his life...literally. Modern ArtSchool!AU. OneShot. Complete.

The curve of her spine was soft, dipping in enough that he could run an open palm up her back and trace each vertebrae with his thumb if he were to touch her. A few of her ribs were visible and the points of her shoulder blades jutted out ever so slightly, casting a soft shadow and contouring the muscles that ran down the length of her torso. He could see the swell of her breast peeking through the slight space between her outstretched arm and side, though he didn't need to focus on it yet.

Her mid-back was giving him enough trouble as it was.

"You smoothed it out too early, Flamebrain. Not enough shaping with your mallet."

Natsu's gaze darted over to Gray—his glare unnoticed by the focused, raven-haired sculptor. The ridges of his clay followed the line of her shoulders perfectly, while no matter how many times Natsu worked and reworked his own damn slab of grey, he couldn't seem to get it right and it was driving him crazy.

"Shut up, Ice Freak," the pinket mumbled, picking up his spray bottle and misting the folded shoulder blade. He ran a free thumb along the curve of his modelled torso's spine, smoothing out any excess clay.

Gray raised an eyebrow, letting out a small laugh, "What? No witty retort?"

Natsu's answer was to shoot at Gray's face with his spray bottle…which in retrospect may not have been a good idea since the raven-haired artist was currently wielding a shaping chisel.

Needless to say, Natsu left class early with hands full of wet clay, running for his life down the hall.

"You're just saying that."

Warm brown eyes—disguised under an angry brow—had glared at him with a defiance that made him laugh. The number of times he'd told her she was beautiful and she'd denied it were endless. Words were empty to her. They always had been.

But he'd always been a man of action. He'd never been good with words.

"You know I'm not," he'd said, and she'd only scoffed and crossed her arms.

"You're supposed to think I'm beautiful. It's your job." Eyes were now downcast, no longer angry and instead vulnerable. Hurting.

"Hey," he'd whispered, tilting her chin up.

He'd wiped the tears from her cheeks and pressed a chaste kiss to her bare forehead.

"One day, I'm gonna show you how beautiful you are."

And though she'd denied it profusely, there was no mistaking that shimmer of hopeful belief behind that faint smile.

If he was going to work on that shoulder-blade, he was going to need more clay, which unfortunately meant getting out of bed early before all the other students cleared out the art store.

So, still in his flame pyjamas, Natsu threw on the first shirt he found that didn't smell like it needed to get soaked in vinegar and soap, and locked the door to his dorm behind him. The black tee was covered in clay and paint, but he didn't much care at this point. It was weirder if you weren't covered in some sort of artistic medium.

A slight breeze pricked at his skin as he trekked across campus. Winter was starting to bite, he'd have to actually buy a sweater soon. Why hadn't he listened when his dad told him to bring one?

Baka.

He ran warm anyway, so he could probably get away without one for a little longer. He needed to save as much money for college supplies as possible. Long-sleeved shirts would have to make do for now. Worst case scenario he covered himself in clay or something for insulation.

That could work, right?

By some miracle, the store wasn't mobbed with people shoving each other this way and that in an attempt to get their supplies first. It was actually kind of tame. Natsu found the new sculpting area easily—why they kept moving the sections around and changing the layout he had no idea—and was looking for a small slab of clay when he heart a faint curse from behind him.

His head snapped back involuntarily at the sound to a blonde reaching as high as she could for something on a shelf, fingers seeking and falling short. She had one foot on one of the lower cubbies and Natsu could see the treads of her shoe slipping off the edge. She was gunna knock her chin off something if she fell.

Fuck.

Abandoning the clay, Natsu swiftly moved around the bookcases just as she lost her grip and fell back.

Right into his chest.

Her weight took him off guard and they both fell to the floor, her in his lap and him whacking the back of his skull on one of the shelves behind him. He let out a faint hiss, free hand coming up to rub the now sore spot.

"Oh my god, are you okay?"

Peering through his grimace, eye-lined, golden-brown eyes examined him worriedly and Natsu found he couldn't breathe. She'd quickly flipped around and was hovering in front of him, hands on either side of his thighs.

Chunks of blonde fell to frame her face as she looked him over, pulling his head down to check where it'd been hit. He felt her fingers pull and push at his hair in thick chunks and then still when she heard a sharp intake of breath.

"There's no blood," she said softly, pulling back and sitting down cross legged, "that's good."

Natsu scratched at the back of his head, a half pained smile on his face, "Yeah well…that's not the way I'd go about makin' a girl fall for me."

The blonde blinked before bursting into peals of laughter and Natsu's heart warmed. If there was one way to stop guilt, it was laughing, and he was relatively good at that one. Her smile lit up her whole face.

He watched as she stood and offered him a hand. He took it and she helped pull him back up to his feet. "Thank you," she smiled at him. "Normally I introduce myself before laying on top of people."

She ran a hand through her hair, pulling it over one shoulder. The ends were stained pink and purple, a faded contrast to the sun-kissed blonde.

They stood a little awkwardly before Natsu returned his attention to the shelf she'd been reaching for. There were tubes of oil paint, all varying shades of navy and indigo arranged in order to their place on the spectrum.

"Which one were you goin' for?" he asked.

"Third one from the left."

Natsu reached up and plucked the deep blue from its dispenser and handed it to her. A slight blush dusted her cheeks as she shoved it into her shopping bag.

"Thanks," she managed a smile. "You here for clay?"

The pinket nodded, "Yeah. I'm workin' on a torso right now and—"

Wait.

Natsu's eyes narrowed slightly, "Why do you think I'm here to get clay?"

She laughed and poked the center of his chest, "Well if the fact you have some dried on your shirt wasn't a dead giveaway, then the fact you're in Clive's Friday modelling class would."

His brow furrowed. He'd never seen her before, he was sure of it. He'd talked to nearly all of his fellow classmates in one way or another. Usually they were yelling at him and Gray to stop causing trouble and she hadn't been one of them. "It's been a month. If you were in that class I'd know."

She stared at him for a minute before her eyes widened. "You don't recognize me."

It wasn't a question.

Her lips pulled back in a devilish grin, "Oh this is gold. Gray is gunna laugh so hard at this."

Natsu blinked. "You know Gray?"

She just ignored him and snickered, "Oh my god, he's gunna die."

Natsu's stomach plummeted.

"No! He'll never let me live it down if I really should know who you are." Natsu began to pace, talking with his hands. "That ice freak is always messing with me."

"Good thing you ran when you did. Looked like was about to stab you with that chisel."

Natsu wracked his brain. He was on the side of the class closest to the door—which really came in handy yesterday—but there were no blondes in his class. He definitely would have noticed someone like her, if not because she was stunning simply because he prided himself on the fact he noticed everything.

Didn't he?

He tried to recall the list of students that was posted on the online Facebook group. There wasn't much back and forth talk yet but dates to certain tests or links to references were exchanged and everyone from their class was on there. Had she dyed her hair recently?

No. He'd know her face.

"What's your name?" he asked her, and her smirk only widened as she used a finger to curl under his chin.

"Figure it out, Natsu."

It was only when she was out of his sight he realized he'd followed her as she'd paid for the paint and walked out the door and now he'd have to go right back into the now bustling supplies store.

He didn't get his clay.

"C'mon, let me in!"

He'd banged against the door to the bathroom, leaning against the large piece of wood with an ear pressed to it. She was silent on the other side and he was starting to get worried.

"If you don't let me in, I'm breaking down the door."

He'd heard a soft sniffle before the latch unlocked and he'd nearly fallen flat on his face. It'd've made her laugh, sure, but right now wasn't really humor-worthy.

"Oh," he sighed softly.

She'd run her hands over her bare skull, a soft scraping sounding as what was left of her shaved hair came in contact with the skin of her palm.

"It seemed easier than losing it in clumps," she'd whispered, looking down and away. He saw tears fall and before he could think he'd pulled her into his chest, hooking his chin atop her head and bringing a hand up to rest with it.

"How is he gunna look at me now?" she'd whispered, clinging to him.

He'd pulled away from her.

"Like you're still the most beautiful girl in the world."

"Okay, magma-breath. What's wrong with you?"

Gray's question only faintly registered as Natsu stared at his clay torso. He couldn't get the girl out of his head. Her eyes, her smile, her voice, her energy. How the hell did he know her? He wanted to ask Gray, but he wasn't that desperate.

Yet.

It was messing with his ability to sculpt. The clay had always bent to his hands and fingers but this shoulder was really fucking with him. He'd always been able to mold it in the way he'd wanted…he'd never been distracted. He'd never needed to look up references. He'd never needed extra clay. His abilities were natural. It was as easy as breathing despite the fact he'd only been doing it a few years. He'd never lost it before.

Well…the only time he'd ever lost it was when—

A splash of water to the face had Natsu letting out a yelp and knocking over a tray of tools. Save the trickle of faint classical music, the room was void of sound so everyone jumped, including the model.

"Natsu, do I need to separate you and Gray?"

Clive trudged over, arms crossed over his chest. Normally he would join in half-heartedly before breaking up the pink and black haired artists, but he'd told them some personal things were happening with his daughter recently and he was, "In no mood for fuckery."

"No, sir," Natsu said softly.

"So why are you picking a fight with Gray?" he asked. With each step closer he loomed over Natsu and said pinket's stomach plummeted.

"I…I'm not…"

His glare was menacing.

"Go to the library. Get started on your research project," he said, continuing his round of the sculptures.

"But—"

"Now."

Without another word, Natsu packed up his things and slipped out of the room. He caught Gray's apologetic look as he left, but he couldn't care less. His thoughts were on the art girl.

And they shouldn't be.

Shaking her image from his head, Natsu set out for the library. He wasn't much of a researcher but he was here for a reason and he'd be damned if he didn't do it for her. As much as attending Fairy Tail's art school was something he'd wanted…

The only reason he'd even accepted was because she'd made him.

He almost hadn't.

Natsu absently brought a hand up to his chest, fingers following the red-stained skin.

"I miss you, kaida."

He'd barely been able to contain the smile on his face.

She'd been upset for almost a week after she'd shaved off her hair, and he'd looked everywhere and finally found it.

He'd had to avoid bouncing up and down since that'd disturb the gift in the box he held.

He'd snuck into her room, avoiding the loose wires and sitting at the foot of her bed.

Shortly after she'd come out of the bathroom, plugging herself back in and climbing back into the hospital cot. She was slower than usual, the chemo had gotten to her today.

"Hey," she'd whispered, forcing a smile. "How was school?"

He'd shaken his head and shoved the box at her.

She'd stared at him quizzically, "What's this?"

"Open it."

With a raised brow and skeptical expression, she'd pulled at the ribbon and lifted the lid.

"What…"

Reaching into the large, folded slab of cardboard, she'd pulled out a styrofoam head with a wig on it.

A bright. Blue. Wig.

She'd laughed. She'd nearly let go of the wig's stand as she curled into herself and laughed.

He'd felt slightly embarrassed.

"What?" he'd asked.

She laughed.

"You always said you wanted blue hair," he'd said softly, suddenly really self conscious about the gift.

"Yeah, when I was five," she'd snickered.

He'd crossed his arms, "Okay, so give it back then." He'd reached for the wig—

"No!" she'd snatched it away, "I love it. Really."

There was a soft silence.

"Help me put it on?" she'd asked.

With a soft smile, he'd stood from the bed and lifted the dyed blue hair from its stand. Brushing it back from the suction cup, he'd slowly smoothed it down on her bare skull. Once he was sure it was secure, he'd pulled the brush from her bedside table and began to comb through it.

She'd scrambled away from him when he was done to the bathroom, pulling the long navy locks over her shoulders and brushing the side bangs from her face.

"Does it look okay?" she'd asked, turning to him.

The bright blue in contrast to her dark eyes made him smile.

"Stunning as always," he'd smiled.

Her face had lit up, "When's dad coming?"

He'd looked to the door, "Shouldn't be too long now. He got off work a little while ago—oof!"

She'd thrown her arms around his middle, burying her face in his chest.

"Thank you, dora," she'd whispered.

He'd laughed and hugged her.

"I thought I told you to stop callin' me that," he'd snickered, mumbling into her hair.

"Never." He could almost see the evil grin on her face.

"Thank you, nii-san."

A faint buzzing irked Natsu.

He roused from dosing, blinking the blurred sleep from his eyes. Grumbling, he peeled his face from the textbook pages and fumbled around for the little vibrating bastard. Whoever was calling him better have a damn good reason for waking him up.

Ice Bastard

Fitting.

Natsu dragged his thumb across the screen.

"Whadoya want?" he grunted, sitting up and cracking his neck.

"I explained what happened to Clive—"

"Gray, seriously, 'sfine," he yawned, "the break was nice anyway."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," he stretched one arm over his head, muscles pulling at his back just to the point of pain that felt good. He let out a puff of air, more relaxed, "Don't worry about it, frosty. Go back to your ice sculptures."

"Kay."

Knk.

21:55

Crap. He had five minutes to get out of the library.

Rushing to close up the textbooks, Natsu hauled the stack of tombs to the front, muttering a soft apology to the blue-haired girl behind the counter. She gave him a slight wave with a smile and waved him out the door. The few times Natsu actually came to the library she was always sitting behind the desk, reading a book. He hoped he didn't make too much extra work for her.

A tall figure dressed in black brushed by him on his way out the door. Stuck with various metal earrings and an even more menacing expression, Natsu froze as he walked up to the blunette.

The metalhead's expression softened as he stood in front of the blunette and she looked up from her book. She lit up and grabbed his collar, pulling him down to kiss him chastely.

Natsu relaxed. She'd be getting home safe.

Relieved, the pinket made his way out of the library building in the direction of his dorm and inwardly cursed his falling asleep. The more he tried to find ways to fix her shoulder, the more the techniques he found that messed with the tricks of his he already used.

It was just a big mess.

He rounded a corner and a figure caught his attention.

Definitely female, keeping to the shadows and looking over her shoulder every once in awhile. Was she being followed by someone? Was she hiding?

Natsu tightened the straps of his backpack and lingered behind, keeping an eye out for anything shady. The longer he followed however, the more confused he got. The campus dorms were in the opposite direction, so where was she going?

Wait…where was she in the first place?

Natsu's heart leapt as he lost sight of the girl and he looked around frantically, eyes darting from shadow to shadow…

And then his head was nearly cracking against the concrete wall with something shoved in his face.

Wh…

"Why are you following me?"

Natsu swallowed and his hands flew up in surrender, "I was just makin' sure you were okay and that you weren't being tailed by anybody. It's dangerous walkin' around this late at night."

A light was suddenly blinding him and he squinted his eyes, unable to see her outline anymore.

"Natsu?"

The pinket's eyes widened as the figure let him go. He'd know that voice anywhere. It'd been haunting him the past few days.

"Paint Girl," he breathed as the light from what he now recognized as her phone illuminated a few areas of her face.

She grinned slyly, "Still haven't figured out who I am yet, huh?"

Natsu pouted, arms crossed, "Y'know you could just tell me."

"Well where's the fun in that?" She backed away a few steps with a raised brow, "Also do you realize how dumb that was?"

Natsu blanked, and she rolled her eyes.

"You know that in your attempt to keep creepy people from following me, you followed me creepily?"

Oh.

No…he didn't.

Natsu shyly scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her amused golden gaze. He was grateful for the darkness so she wouldn't see his face turn the same colour as his hair. He'd already embarrassed himself around her enough.

"I gotta go, I'll catchya later," she turned to leave but Natsu just followed her. At the sound of his shuffling she turned around to him. "You can go now."

The sculptor crossed his arms over his chest, "No way I'm leavin' you out here alone this late."

"I'm a big girl," she smirked, "I can take care of myself."

"Never said you couldn't. I wouldn't be able to sleep anyway and since you won't tell me who you are I have no way of knowing—"

She groaned, "Would it make you feel better if I gave you my number?"

He blinked, "Wh—"

And then she was yanking his phone from his hand, unlocking it—he really needed to get a new passcode and would definitely be doing that when he got home—and typing on his keyboard. There was barely any time for the action to register before she'd placed a ringing phone back in his hand with hers to her ear.

"Would it make you feel better if I called you when I got home?" He could hear voice echo through the filter.

She gave a short wave before turning her back and leaving him behind.

"Shut your mouth, you'll catch flies, Flamebrain."

Click.

Wh…wah…

What?

Call Ended: Paint Girl

Once again, he'd walked to her room with a present in a box.

This one he'd been working on for a month in secret. His teachers had scolded him for falling asleep in class but he didn't care. He'd stay up all night just to see her smile.

He'd approached her door and let himself in since it was open a crack.

He'd seen her kissing her boyfriend.

At the sound of him entering, they'd broken apart, both flushed, and quickly enough it was just him and her.

He'd liked her boyfriend. He was sweet to her. But he'd had to be the big brother after all.

"Treat her well," he'd said lowly as the younger male skidded away.

He'd entered to plop down at her feet again, setting the semi-heavy present in front of him.

"You always scare him off," she'd pouted.

"I'm your brother. It's my job to keep 'im on his toes," he'd smirked, redirecting his gaze to the box. "Now open this. I worked on it all week."

With a roll of the eyes she'd pulled the bow and the four sides fell open.

Her eyes had widened.

"Wow," she'd breathed, reaching out to trace the contours of the sculpted face. "It's beautiful, nii-san."

He'd smiled as she traced along the soft nose, curved jaw, rounded cheeks, angled eyes, arched brows. She'd marvelled, staring for minutes before opening her mouth again.

"She's stunning. Who was the model?"

He'd beamed.

"You."

Her eyes had flickered over and her jaw had fallen slack. She could only look back to the face with tears brimming.

"I figured you'd need a nicer place to keep your wig when you aren't wearin' it."

She'd laughed, "But you don't know how to sculpt."

He'd shrugged, "Wasn't that hard."

She'd fallen silent and only looked back up again when he'd asked, "Do ya see now?"

"See what?" her voice had cracked.

"How beautiful you are," he'd whispered, brushing a blue pigtail away from her face.

She'd smiled wider than he'd seen her do in months.

After that her hospital room had various sculptures strewn all over. Of her. Of him. Of them. Of their father.

Each one had brought more joy to her than the last and he hadn't been able to stop.

He couldn't stop doing something that'd made his little sister smile.

He'd waited up for her that night.

No matter how hard he'd tried to fall asleep, her eyes and smile flashed behind his eyelids and the next thing he saw was her hurt. Or kidnapped. Or lying in a ditch somewhere.

Granted that was a little dramatic, but his brain liked to go haywire.

He'd eventually given up on trying to play it cool and called her.

"Don't guys usually wait three days or something before they call a girl? Isn't that some kind of rule?"

Natsu flopped onto his back on his bed and sighed.

"Oh my god, you're totally rolling your eyes right now."

"Am not."

"Are too!"

"Am not!"

He totally was, but he wasn't going to tell her that. She already had way too much leverage, it was making him anxious. He knew nothing about her.

A faint shhhhh, echoed from her side of the phone along with a metallic clacking noise. The sound was familiar but he couldn't remember why. Metal sliding against metal.

He shook his head. His exhaustion was getting the better of him.

"'m just worried about you."

There was a lengthy pause before a soft, "Why?"

He barely knew her. He'd only seen her twice and yet there was just…something about her. He cared.

"Dunno…" he admitted, voice barely a whisper, "just am."

Another few moments passed before he heard her clear her throat.

"Well, you have no reason to be. I'll have you know I could hand you your ass well into next week if it came down to a fist fight." He could hear her eyes twinkle.

"I'd like ta see you try," he snickered, closing his eyes and leaning back into his pillows.

They didn't talk after that. Natsu just lay there on his bed, arms behind his head, listening to the soft sounds coming from the other side of the phone call.

The sounds changed to a shuffling and the sound of wind filled his ears.

"Walkin' home?" he mumbled, letting out a yawn.

"Yeah," she whispered.

After a few more minutes of silence, a soft humming came from her side of the phone. He didn't quite remember if he dosed off or not, but he perked up at he sound of a door clicking, opening, and closing.

"Ya home?" he asked.

"Yeah."

He stretched, letting out a faint grunt before curling into a ball, "Good."

He thought she'd said something else, but he didn't know what as he drifted off.

She'd pulled out a large stack of paper and set them down on her tray table.

Where she'd got them he had no idea.

"What're these?" he'd asked, thumbing through the pages.

"Art school applications."

His brow had furrowed, "Huh?"

She'd looked around the room at the various sculptures decorating her otherwise dull and empty space, "Natsu you're amazing. You've gotta do something with this."

He'd blinked and shook his head, "I was just doin' this for you…"

"Think of how many other people you could do this for," she'd smiled.

He'd picked up the pile of booklets and thumbed through them quickly. "Most of these are halfway across the country, kaida."

She'd narrowed her eyes, "I'm not little anymore, nii-san."

He'd smiled and ruffled the hair of her wig, "You'll always be my little sister, Wen."

She'd smiled before shuffling over next to him and pointing to the top application excitedly. It was one of the most prestigious art schools and she'd wanted him to apply there first.

"Fairies don't have tails…do they?" he'd asked.

She hadn't been able to breathe with how hard she'd laughed. He'd just sat there, bored and feeling a little dumb.

"What?" he'd asked.

She'd just turned the page and pointed to the school's motto.

Whether fairies have tails, nobody knows. But—like mastering your craft—the answer is a never-ending adventure.

He'd been unable to help the smile that crossed his face.

It quickly became a habit.

Every time she went…wherever she was going almost every other night, Natsu would call her or vice versa and they'd stay on the phone for hours. He'd invested in a stupidly long charging cable so he could walk around his room if he needed to and not worry about his phone battery.

He'd brought his sculpture home with him one weekend and was working from reference photos. They weren't allowed to photograph the model herself, but that wasn't going to stop him from trying. So from memory and guessing he'd found a few pictures online and was still kneading the clay of the shoulder blade.

"When do you sleep?" he asked, picking up his spray bottle and squeezing out a puff of mist.

Shhhhh, echoed from her side of the phone along with the metallic clinking noise. The fact it was so familiar, yet he couldn't place it often left him wanting to bang his head against his desk.

"Early morning to midday usually," she answered, a little breathless, "I work in the afternoon and have mainly night classes, so it works for me."

"Yeah?" Damned, stubborn, stupid fucking sculpture. "Where do ya work?"

There was a brief silence on her side of the phone before a, "It's a secret."

Natsu glared, "I can see that shit-eating grin on your face."

"Can not."

"Can too."

"Can not."

"Can too."

She laughed and his glare morphed into a soft smile.

"Will you at least tell me what you're goin' to school for then? You can't not tell me anything about yourself." He rinsed his hands in the basin of grey-tinged water and wiped them dry with a stray rag.

"Hmm…" She trailed off as he stood from his stool, stretching his arms overhead. He'd been asking her that for about a week now and she'd refused to say anything, insisting it could give her away. "Well…I suppose you're oblivious enough to know and not figure out who I am from it."

"Hey!"

"Oh, hi. Didn't hear ya there," she snickered and Natsu flopped down onto his bed.

"You could cut me a bit of a break here, ya know," he grumbled, rubbing a hand down his face. Normally he didn't take her seriously, he knew she was just teasing and he was having as much fun with this little game as she was…

But he really knew almost nothing about her other than who she was as a person. Kind, compassionate, playful. Which was what was important, but he wanted to know more about her.

"I'm a painter."

"Well I figured that from the paint you were getting in the store. I mean more what are you here for? What're your forte?"

"Guess."

Natsu groaned.

"You know about the anonymous midterm showcase coming up next week, right?"

Yeah. He was putting in a hand he'd sculpted the first week of class. To say Clive had been surprised was an understatement. Hands in general were one of if not the hardest part of the body to replicate in any given artistic medium.

"Yeah, I've got a piece they're going to put on display, why?" He heard a zipper and then a soft rhythmic thumping from her side of the phone. Walking back.

"I've got a painting of mine in there. Wanna go with me?"

He'd walked into her room, clutching the unopened letter in his hands.

He'd been too nervous to open it himself.

Going to Fairy Tail wasn't something he'd ever thought about for himself. He'd just figured he'd get some sort of entry level job and stay there, but after having applied…

He couldn't think of anything he'd wanted more.

She'd been sitting on her bed with a needle and thread, weaving an odd type of pattern into a scarf she'd been working on for the past few days. At hearing him enter, she'd looked up from her current stitch, smiled, stabbed her thumb, swore, stuck it in her mouth, and then gone back to smiling.

He'd just laughed of course, though his anxiety kept him from really being able to relax.

"What's that?" she'd asked, eyeing the envelope.

He'd lifted it up to eye level, staring at his name and address.

"Is that it?" she'd asked, lighting up. "Come on! Open it!"

He'd shaken his head, "What if I don't get in?"

"Natsu just open it!" she'd bounced in her cot, giddiness contagious.

He'd just shaken his head again and shoved the letter at her. She could open it if she wanted to know so badly, he just couldn't bring himself to read the rejec—

"Oh my god."

He'd blinked, staring at his now empty hand and little sister with a thick stack of papers in one hand and the ripped envelope in the other. Her jaw had been slack and he'd felt his stomach drop.

"Wh…"

The grin that'd crossed her face…was one he'd never forget.

"You're in."

He'd blinked.

"What?"

He'd snatched the papers from her hands, reading over the acceptance letter and thumbing through the attached registration papers.

He couldn't believe it.

He was still processing when he felt something soft drape gently around his shoulders.

It was a white scarf with a scale pattern.

"Congrats, nii-san," she'd beamed. "I knew you'd get in."

He'd gripped at the knitted fabric and his heart had ached. He couldn't stop himself from pulling her into a tight hug.

"Thank you, kaida."

"I TOLD YOU I'M NOT LITTLE ANYMORE!"

She'd told him if he could guess which painting was hers, then she'd bring him to the place she went nearly every night. His first thought was that it would be a piece of cake, and his second thought was they'd finally be on more equal ground.

His third thought was he was so wrong and so screwed.

There were hundreds of paintings lining the walls of the showroom, and even more on the rows of panels in the center of the floor. Sculptures were scattered throughout on pedestals, poems written on large canvases sat on easels, clothes were displayed on mannequins, photography in both print and on canvas…and this was just the visual art space.

The performing arts showcase was the day after and Natsu couldn't imagine the number of singers, musicians and actors that would be there.

"So you're basically asking me to find Waldo without tellin' me what Waldo looks like."

It wasn't a question, it was a statement.

The blonde laughed next to him and hooked her arm through his, "Oh hush you grump. Let's walk around."

They'd first made their way to the front where a massive ten tier strawberry cake towered over the guests. White fondant smoothed down the edges, red abstract designs weaved and spiralled in various patters, bright red roses rested in clusters. It was beautifully decorated and an equally gorgeous redhead was handing out pieces of the lowest cake tier.

He'd grabbed two slices, thanking the artist before moving on.

They'd moved throughout the various artworks, talking about lines, colours, textures. Natsu couldn't remember the last time he'd been able to talk to someone about art, and the blonde knew more than he did. Most of the time he was listening to her talk about history, technique, messages.

And when she talked…oh when she talked.

She lit up.

The smile she had on her face was wide, her eyes flashing, eyebrows raised and moving along with her expression as she moved her hands to illustrate the concepts she was talking about. Some of the time he found himself tuning out her words since she looked so gorgeous…it nearly broke his heart when she'd stopped and apologized.

"Sorry…I know this all probably doesn't interest you…" she'd trailed off, crossing her arms in front of her chest and curling in slightly.

"Hey," he'd said softly, waiting until she looked at him. "If you don't start talking again…" he trailed off and pouted. "I dunno. But I'll think of something."

She'd blinked a few times before smiling and laughing softly. "Okay."

Once they'd made their way through most of the art, they came to stop in front of a painting of a tree. It was just a skeleton on a white background, no leaves, but instead of the trunk stopping at the ground, it extended. The painter had drawn the roots of the tree, nearly mirroring the size, shape and span of the trunk and branches.

"Woah…" Natsu breathed, "is that actually what it looks like do ya think?"

"Yeah, only bigger," she tilted her head to one side, eyes following the length of the longest roots, "and everywhere. Like three-hundred-sixty degrees worth of roots."

The pinket reached out to toward the tree trunk, fingers ghosting over the canvas, lightly.

"So much more to it than you would've thought, eh?"

"Yeah…"

She stared blankly ahead, eyes a little glassy and downcast.

Her head snapped up at the feeling of his fingers weaving through hers and giving them a soft squeeze. She was a little cold, but with his hand nearly enveloping hers entirely and his thumb brushing the soft skin of the back, she'd warm up in no time.

She stared at their intertwined fingers and for a moment Natsu's stomach plummeted. He'd only been doing what he could to try and make her feel better. Was he overstepping? Did he read the entire situation wrong? Had he broken some boundary?

The wane smile she gave him while returning the comforting squeeze was his answer, and despite getting knocked around by other students and pulled and pushed around corners—sometimes almost into displays…

She didn't let go.

"You haven't made anything in months."

He'd looked over to his dishevelled father, "No point."

His father had frowned, "You're really not going to go?"

"No. I'm not."

Y'know, you're usually smarter than people give you credit for.

However forgetting these makes me wonder.

- D

Natsu rolled his eyes at his father's note as he pulled a stack of winter clothes from their package and set them atop his dresser. There wasn't much in his drawers in the first place so it would be that hard to find a spot.

A faint buzzing had him spinning around and knocking the stack from its place. He swore under his breath and lunged across his bed to grab his phone from his bedside table, unlocking it to answer the call.

"Y'know, most parents call their children right after they move in," Natsu smirked, pushing himself back up to standing.

"Y'know, most children would call their parents to let them know that they're okay," was his witty retort.

Natsu laughed and felt his whole body relax, "How are ya, dad?"

A loud sigh, "Been better, kit. Been better."

The pinket's face fell, "Yeah…me too."

"How's school been treating you? The classes okay?"

They talked for awhile. About Natsu's courses and how Gray had actually ended up at the same school as him, driving him crazy every step of the way. About his neighbour who liked to blast music until three in the morning so he either had to be really tired to fall asleep or bang on the wall. About how he just can't seem to get this damn shoulder right.

"I'm losing it, dad," Natsu whispered, picking his sweaters up from the floor. One of them unfolded and something white fell out.

His scarf.

"Just cause you're blocked, doesn't mean you've lost it, kit."

He wrapped his scarf around his neck, burying his face in the fabric. "Feels like it," he mumbled.

They were silent for a few moments before his dad piped up again.

"Now tell me about the girl."

"WHAT?!" he sputtered. "Who the hell told you about her?"

"You just did."

Natsu growled, "Not funny, dad."

He laughed throatily, "C'mon, who is she?"

Natsu didn't quite know what to tell him, so he just reiterated she was a girl he'd met in the art store and had been talking to a lot the past few weeks.

"She beautiful?"

"Dad," Natsu groaned.

"C'mon, kit, you deserve to be happy. She'd want you to be, y'know."

The sculptor sighed, clutching the fabric of the white muffler, "Yeah. I know."

"I've gotta run to work now, but text me more, okay? I wanna know how you're doing."

"Sure, dad."

He heard a bit of rustling, "Love you, kit."

"Love you too," he nearly whispered, then added, "thanks for sending the scarf."

"Of course."

With that he pulled on his favourite dragon hoodie, grabbed his sculpture and headed out to class.

Today was going to be a long one anyway.

He'd been packing up the room when he'd found a letter underneath one of the sculptures.

Nii-san,

If I know you—and I totally do—you're not sculpting anymore.

You idiot.

Get up off your lazy ass and go to Fairy Tail already.

Kaida

"I thought you said you weren't little anymore," he'd whispered, tears soaking into the paper.

"Oi, Flamebrain!"

Natsu spun around at the sound of her voice, flinching slightly.

"Jesus, where the hell did you come from?!" He'd only just gotten out of sculpting class.

"I just got off work, you hungry?"

"Yeah, sure."

Her hair was up in a bun, bouncing slightly as she moved and she'd foregone her usual makeup in favor of just darkened lashes. He'd always thought she was beautiful but…

They'd grabbed dinner at a pub—had a beer or two—and were just finishing up ice cream while walking around the block.

"So I've got a question for ya," Natsu started, nibbling on the edge of his cone.

"Shoot," she mumbled, giving her own a lick.

"Even though I didn't guess your painting," he continued, looking over to her, "can you tell me what you paint anyway?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

He watched as she tapped the tip of her nose and pursed her lips in mock thought, "No."

"Ouch, harsh," he laughed, trying to swallow the disappointment.

"I'll just show you instead."

Natsu perked up at that, "Really?"

"Yeah," she smiled.

A slight shiver wracked her frame as she finished her cone and tossed the napkin into a nearby trashcan. She had a thick sweater on, but the skin of her neck and chest that wasn't covered prickled.

Almost unconsciously, Natsu found himself pulling the scarf from his neck and coming to stand in front of her. Her eyes were wide as he hooked the fabric around her shoulders and secured it over the exposed skin.

She blinked at him and blushed, "Thanks."

He just smiled.

They eventually made their way back to her residence that wasn't too far from his own, and when she reached for the scarf he caught her hand and shook his head.

"Keep it for now, I can grab it from you tomorrow if you wanna go for lunch or something?" he scratched the back of his neck unconsciously.

"Starbucks okay?" she asked.

"Perfect."

"Cool, I'll meet you there around three?"

"Yeah." He couldn't help the grin that broke over his features. She was looking up at him, eyes bright, warm smile. His stomach flipped.

Shaking it off, he turned away with a slight wave to head home.

Ah, fuck it.

He stopped after a few steps and doubled back, coming to stand in front of her. She searched his face with a furrowed brow that soon smoothed out as he brought a hand up to her face. "Natsu?"

Her eyes were gold, and her cheeks were flushed from the cold, and her lips were bare and she was just looking at him.

He didn't realize just how close he'd gotten until he felt her fingers around his neck, pulling him down to her level. With her lips a hair's breadth from his, his breathing turned sporadic as he tried to form words.

He finally managed to.

"I really want to kiss you," he whispered, rolling his head to one side. He wasn't just going to without—

"Good," she lured, before closing the distance.

Her lips parted under his as he kissed her, bringing up his other hand to cradle and angle her face. She responded slowly beneath him and he matched her pace, drawing in a sharp breath as she tugged at his hair and moving closer to her. His heart raced as he pulled back, resting his forehead against hers.

"G'night," he breathed, kissing her one more time.

"Night," she echoed, dropping her arms and backing away, biting her lower lip.

Not helping.

He tore his eyes from her mouth and walked away, smiling to himself as he heard her giggle behind him.

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

He'd found himself at her boyfriend's door, ringing the bell.

"Natsu," he'd breathed when he opened the door. He'd looked like absolute hell.

"Romeo."

The younger male hadn't known what to say but was stopped by a box being shoved into his hands. It was heavy and he'd set it down on the table next to the open front door before seeing what it was.

It was the sculpture he'd done of his sister's face.

"Natsu…"

"I can't…" he'd whispered, "I…I can't, and I figured maybe you'd…"

He'd nodded, eyes glazed over.

"Thank you," he'd offered a hand that the older male then clasped, bringing him in for a quick hug.

"Just…don't be a stranger," he'd smiled before walking away from the front door.

He couldn't have her face staring at him.

He was out of breath, but he'd managed to slip into class just before Clive shut the door. With a roll of the eyes and amused shake of his head, the brunet shooed Natsu away to his place and went back to the person he was talking to on the phone. Gray was already there, arms crossed and looking more irritated than usual. With one glance at Natsu, the ice sculptor raised an eyebrow.

"Where you been, pyro?" he asked, leaning back on his stool. "You've been MIA for awhile."

Natsu let out a long, low breath, "A lot's been going on."

"Yeah," Gray's curiosity was piqued, "like what?"

"I'll explain once class starts," he rummaged around in his backpack for a few new tools, in particular a new spherical roller he was told could help with the curves.

"Sucks, cause there isn't going to be class today."

Natsu's brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"

Gray opened his mouth to answer but was stopped by Clive clapping his hands together.

"Alright guys, I've just been informed our model isn't able to make it in today. She forgot to let me know and will be away for personal reasons, so today you can either stay here and work or head out early."

With that he headed over to his desk and proceeded to pick up a thick hardcover book. Natsu could see the magazine inside it, he wasn't as stealthy as he thought he was.

With an amused shake of the head, Natsu slung his pack back over his shoulder.

"Where you off to?" Gray asked, following the same suit.

"Starbucks. You?"

"Ice room."

Natsu brought a hand to his face, "Right. Why'd I even ask."

"Don't piss off the people by getting too hyped up on caffeine," Gray smirked, shoving Natsu with an elbow.

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, shoving back, "keep it G rated, kay?"

With a roll of the eyes the two parted ways.

Natsu threw a text her way to let the blonde know his class wouldn't be on today since the model wasn't there so he'd be at Starbucks early. After grabbing a large cup of tea he settled down in a free armchair to relax.

He pulled a mythical creatures reference book from his bag. He'd wanted to do a dragon sculpture for awhile and had an idea of the pose, but didn't quite know what breed.

With a pen to paper Natsu spent hours sketching out possible designs.

His phone never buzzed.

Paint Girl didn't show.

He texted get again.

No answer.

He called her and her phone was off.

By this point he was past wondering if she'd ditched or forgotten about him and he was instead worried as all hell. She wandered around at night on her own in dangerous areas on a campus that wasn't well known for female safety.

Once two hours had passed since the time they were supposed to meet, Natsu packed up and headed in the direction of the sculpting hall.

Screw this game they were playing. Gray knew who she was…he might know where she was.

Since he wasn't an ice sculptor he didn't have access to the ice room, so he banged on the door until someone answered.

The guy was few inches taller than him with bleached white hair—which seemed weird but hey, his was pink who was he to talk—and shirtless. This guy'd have to be friends with Gray or something.

"Can I help you?" he asked lazily.

Natsu pushed past the guy into the room, looking around for Gray.

"Where's the ice freak?"

"Who are you ta—"

"What are you doing here, magma breath?"

Gray was in the middle of carving what looked to be a flower petal when Natsu strode up to him. He'd lost his shirt at some point but Natsu didn't care enough to make a joke at his expense.

"I know you know her…is she okay?" he asked.

Gray looked at him, perplexed. "Who?"

"The blonde painter who somehow knows me but I can't for the life of me figure out how." He could see the amusement fill Gray's eyes and he could go and make fun of him for the rest of their university careers for all he cared as long as he answered him.

"Heh," he snorted, "still haven't figured it out?"

"Gray, just tell me if she's okay. We were supposed to meet at Starbucks but I haven't heard from her and I'm worried." Natsu crossed his arms and averted his gaze.

"What makes you think she didn't just stand you up?"

Natsu's eyes flashed, "This isn't funny, Gray."

With hands up in surrender, Gray dropped the smirk. "Okay, okay. Yeah, I know where she's at."

The pinket's eyed widened, "Is she alright?"

Gray sighed and rubbed his eyes, "Physically? Yes. Emotionally? She's dealing with some shit. That's all I can tell you."

"So she's safe?" he pressed.

Gray nodded, "Yeah. She's fine. She'll be back by tomorrow."

Natsu let out a breath he was holding and made his way toward the door, "Thanks."

"Natsu."

He glanced back.

"You're looking too hard for her."

Confused, Natsu left the room and headed back to his dorm.

Gray had a stupid habit of talking in circles to piss him off.

He'd stayed just outside the security checkpoint for as long as he could.

"If you wait any longer, you're going to miss your flight."

He'd turned to his father, "Are you gonna be okay alone?"

His father had snorted, ruffling his hair, "Get outta here, kit."

He'd brushed the mussed pink locks out of his eyes, "Just…"

"Stop delaying. This is the start of the rest of your life," his father had smiled, "now go and do something she'd've been proud of."

He'd bit his lip and made his way into the line for security.

He'd pretended not to see the tear that rolled down his father's cheek.

A gentle buzzing woke him up.

"You know the Mavis Bridge underpass?"

"Yeah," he was groggy, rubbing sleep from his eyes.

"How fast can you get there?"

It took him all of five seconds to jump out of bed, throw his feet into some sandals, pull on a hoodie, grab his keys and bolt out the door.

The Mavis Bridge underpass was one of the largest in Magnolia. The rectangular, cement pillars—that spanned the entire width of the bridge—stretched up at least thirty feet. The amount of activity it saw during the day was a drastic contrast to how dead it was at night.

He could see her standing there, in front of one of the walls. She was in a full-length, black dress, bare arms and back, with only his scarf around her neck to keep her warm. It was cold out tonight, what the hell was she thinking?

He wracked his brain for something to say—something to ask about what was going on and if she was okay—but his jaw fell slack in front of the large slab of cement.

Nearly the entire wall had been covered in shades of deep navy blue, purple and pink. Bright ice blues, yellows and reds were scattered throughout. White was speckled close together, the tiniest dots at different concentrations working together to form a pointillism portrait.

A portrait that looked just like her.

She'd been painting a mural all these nights, a massive galaxy full of space dust and stars and constellations. Looking at it, he recalled a galaxy painting at the midterm with similar colours and styles. Spray paint cans littered the ground of various colours. That was the noise he'd kept hearing. The metal ball shaking up the paint.

He looked to her. Her eyes were rimmed red and he could see dried streaks on her cheeks, faintly coloured black. She didn't look at him, gaze fixed on the painting in front of her.

"My mother loved the stars," she whispered. "She even named me Lucy because it means 'light.'"

Lucy…

She swallowed and blinked slowly, a new set of tears falling, "We painted my ceiling to look like the night sky, and she'd tell me about the constellations for my bedtime stories." The blonde took a few steps forward, fingers coming to rest on the dried paint.

"For the earliest halloween I can remember, I wanted to be the stars," a faint smile pulled at the corners of her mouth, "so she made me a 'celestial dress' as she'd called it, and painted these down my arm."

Natsu followed the movement of her right hand coming up to her left shoulder, thumb brushing over a row of zodiac signs he'd never seen before.

"I loved them so much I kept tracing them when they'd fade," she said softly. "I finally got them tattooed last year. Brought a picture and everything so it would be as close to how she'd done them as possible."

She bit her lip and looked back up to the portrait.

"I'd been so focused on finishing this that I forgot," she choked, swallowing down a voice crack, "I forgot what today was."

Lucy turned to him, eyes slowly finding his. "My mother died ten years ago, today."

He watches as she crumples, legs giving out and he quickly moves to catch her before she falls. Her cries in his ear shake him to his core as he pulls her close, one hand rubbing her back and the other coming up to cradle her head. Her arms are around his neck, and her face is in his shoulder, and he can feel the tears on his skin.

"I forgot." Her voice cracks and her body is heaving. Her sobs are drowned out by his shoulder and he can feel her nails digging into his shoulders but he doesn't care.

His heart breaks for her.

"Hold on to me," he whispered, letting her go only to unzip his sweater and shrug out of it. He hears a faint whimper at the loss of contact and she clings to him tighter, shivering. Making quick work of the sleeves, he wrapped the open hoodie around her shoulders and pulled one arm away from his neck to thread it through.

With how tightly she was hugging him, he wasn't able to zip it up, but she would be warmer now. His fingers dug into her lower back with each sob that echoed in his ear.

"It's cold outside," he said softly and she tightens her hold on him. She nods from her spot on his neck because he's making sure she's warm and she should just close her eyes because the wind is harsh and will make them water.

…

They walked back to her residence and he carried her up to her room. The woman with the bleached hair at the front desk was all too eager to help by holding open doors and asking a ton of questions. She seemed to care and Natsu didn't miss the way she eyed to the two of them together.

Granted she might have been right, but that wasn't the point right now.

He finally set her down and grabbed the key she'd hooked onto the strap of one of her heels. Once he got the door open he led her to her bed and lay her down, brushing her hair from her face.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you today," she whispered, watching him as he took off her shoes. "I know I should've but…"

Natsu shook his head, pulling up the comforter to cover her shoulders. She was still in his sweater, but her room was cold so if she was too hot she could always take it off later.

"Don't be sorry," he said gently, "you don't have to explain yourself to me, okay? I get it." He knelt down beside her, waiting for her to open her eyes. "Believe me, I do."

Her brow furrowed at his tone and she opened her mouth to speak but was silenced by his lips to her forehead.

"Sleep. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?" He let his fingers run through the hair at the nape of her neck to pull it free and brush it away.

She nodded.

"Thank you," she said, closing her eyes and burrowing into her pillow.

"Anytime."

When he yanked off his shirt and collapsed in his own bed, the blackened stain on it haunted him. Granted…the one's he'd left had been red but…

The pain was the same.

And her anniversary was coming up too.

He'd rushed into class. Late on the first day was not something he wanted to be, but—just his luck—the alarms on his phone decided not to go off which left him sprinting across campus with a loaded backpack.

He'd had to bang on the door, which was answered by the professor who was not impressed with his lateness.

"You missed meeting the model. We're doing the torso for the semester so go take that empty spot there."

With his head low, he'd avoided the snickers around him and slipped into a free stool opposite a large cube of unfolded clay.

"Way to be late, fire freak."

"Shut up, Gray."

He'd had no time to notice the model putting her hair up into a sock bun, blonde locks rolling over blonde. Nor had he noticed the layer of concealer she'd smoothed down the length of her upper left arm.

He'd had no time.

He'd only sculpted.

They hadn't really seen each other since then.

It wasn't like they weren't talking. Natsu just didn't want to pry too far into Lucy's feelings, and memories of his own were surfacing. Finishing the torso was harder than ever with his brain so scattered and he found himself messing up parts that had been just fine previously.

He really felt like he was losing it.

With a cup of coffee in one hand, he trudged into class, nearly bumping into their model who had been running.

"Sorry," he mumbled. The same thing echoed faintly from her as they entered the classroom and split up. With a sigh, Natsu cracked his neck and made his way to his seat, resolving to message her after class.

He nodded to Gray and sat down. Gray jutted his chin out in response.

He really wanted to message her sooner but didn't know what to say without dipping into something he couldn't deal with himself at the moment. It was selfish of him and he could only hope she wouldn't hate him for it.

Shaking his head, Natsu went back to recreating the model's shoulders.

A quick movement caught his eye.

The model's hair had been haphazardly done up today and was falling out of its usual bun. The muscle of her back moved as she went to pull the sock band free so she could put it back up.

He noticed three things in that moment.

One. That she had no concealer on her arm like she usually did.

Two. That concealer usually covered a line of zodiac tattoos.

Three. That the tips of her hair—usually folded into the sock bun—were dyed pink to purple.

No fucking way. There was no way.

.

"You here for clay?"

.

"Still haven't figured out who I am yet, huh?

"Y'know you could just tell me."

"Well where's the fun in that?"

.

"Our model isn't able to make it in today. She forgot to let me know and will be away for personal reasons."

"I forgot what today was."

.

"Physically? Yes. Emotionally? She's dealing with some shit. That's all I can tell you."

.

"Where do you work?"

"It's a secret."

.

"You're looking too hard for her."

.

He drew in a shuddering breath, wracking his brain. How the hell had he not noticed? Fucking hell, she was right there.

Right. There.

He felt a light mist dust his arm and his head snapped over to Gray.

He was smirking.

"Wh…"

The ice sculptor smirked, "'bout damn time."

Natsu shook his head, picked up his sculpture, grabbed his bag, and dashed from the room.

He didn't see the curious golden eyes following him.

…

"You fucking idiot. Unobservant, dumbass, fucking idiot."

The damn model. She was the damn model he'd been sculpting for three months. How the hell had he not known her name? How the hell had he not recognized her?!

"Fuck."

Natsu pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes. He should've noticed. He was an artist for heaven's sake. He prided himself on noticing details and being aware of his surroundings.

But more than that, he felt guilty.

He hadn't recognized her. Not even when her back was bare the other night and he'd been working on her shoulder for almost a month now.

How good was he as a sculptor not to notice the woman—

He shook his head.

What was he even doing here.

He looked to the torso—the clay he'd been working and reworking endlessly and having it no closer to the right shape. He'd failed. He hadn't been able to do it. He couldn't fix it. He couldn't get it. There was nothing he could do.

A soft knocking had him turning around to see who was standing at his open door.

Lucy.

How'd she found his dorm? He'd never told her where he—

Oh. Gray. Right.

Her hair was still up, no makeup, skin bare. She hadn't gotten dressed after work.

Modelling was her work.

He ran two hands through his hair.

"Hey," she said softly, "you okay?"

"The model," he whispered, turning away from her.

"What?"

Natsu laughed a little hysterically, spinning back round to face her, "You're the model. I've been staring at your back for almost three fucking months and I couldn't tell it was you."

Lucy's eyes widened, "So, you…"

He shook his head, "No. I didn't figure it out. I saw your hair and your tattoo."

She smiled, "Still—"

"Still what?" he nearly snarled. "I've been working on this—" he stabbed a finger at the clay, "—for months and I can't fix it. I spent hours looking at you and didn't notice. What kind of idiot am I?"

Lucy shook her head and headed into the room, "You're not an idiot, Natsu—"

"Gray knew! You two didn't have a problem laughing at me about it!" he snapped, pacing now.

She blonde shook her head again, "We didn't. We were—"

"What am I even doing here?" he whispered, "I'm such a failure."

"Don't say that," Lucy eyed the sculpture, "it's beautiful."

"I fucked up with the mallet and I haven't been able to fix it. I couldn't do anything about it," he stalked back to the modelled torso.

"You can get it, Natsu. You just have to—"

"No. I'm done," he said lowly, fingers digging into the curved side.

"Natsu! What are you—"

"There's no fucking point!" he spun on his heel and hurled the damn thing at the wall.

He could see her flinch out of the corner of his eye before she became blurry.

"Dammit," he choked, head falling in his hands. "Goddammit."

Pulling at his hair and clenching his jaw, Natsu dropped to his knees.

"It wasn't supposed to be like this," he whispered, feeling slender fingers come to rest on his upper back. "She was supposed to be cheering me on from home, not—" his voice cracked and he swallowed. "I couldn't do anything."

Lucy rubbed his back as he fisted his hands in his hair.

"I couldn't save her," he whispered. "She died and there wasn't anything I could do about it."

He was drawn into a soft chest as he cried, arms coming to circle around the blonde and clutch at the back of the sweater she was wearing—his sweater, he noticed absently.

"But she wouldn't let me not come," he drew in a shuddering breath, "even after she died she wouldn't let me quit and I can't get the damn shoulder right so how the hell am I supposed to succeed and honour her last request of me if I can't even fucking see the girl that I really fucking like is the damn model?"

There was silence for a few moments before she spoke.

"You know what I liked about how you didn't know who I was?" she asked softly.

When he didn't respond she continued.

"You weren't sexualizing me."

Natsu pulled back from her, brow furrowed in question.

She smiled. "You weren't checking me out, or sizing me up. I was a model to you and you were focused on your work. I've been in classes before where all the guys are just ogling and objectifying me and finding me after class to get in my pants, which they think they can do since I take my clothes of and spend hours naked."

She brought a hand up to cup his face and wipe at a fresh tear.

"You know what not noticing who I am tells me about you?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"You are one of the most dedicated sculptors I have ever met, to be so focused on your craft you don't even care that there's a naked chick in front of you," she told him.

He couldn't help the small laugh that escaped him.

She moved him up to the bed and lay down, pulling him back to cradle his head to her chest. He did the same to her waist in turn, smiling faintly when he felt a leg hook over his hip.

It didn't take them long to fall asleep.

…

Natsu woke up to a weight on his arm and a finger tracing patterns on his skin, lazily.

He cracked an eye open at the blonde cuddled up to him, following the lines of the japanese character tattooed just over his heart. He could feel it beat against her hand as she sprawled her fingers over the symbol.

"When I was little," he chuckled at her flinching, clearly she didn't know he was awake, "I was a dragon for halloween. It was my favourite thing and I wanted to be one when I grew up."

He smiled at her laughter and ran his fingers through her hair, tugging lightly at the golden strands.

"So one year, my little sister decided she was going to be a mini-me and go as a dragon too," he stared up at the ceiling. "I was so upset, I didn't want her copying me. But our dad made me get over it and it was the best halloween we'd ever had.

"So since then, I called her kaida. Little dragon." He laughed softly, "She hated it when she got older. Felt I wasn't seeing her for the young woman she was growing into, so she'd call me dora. Short for the Japanese pronunciation of dragon."

He took a deep breath and swallowed back the wave that hit him, "So when she died last year, instead of little dragon, I just got the Japanese character for dragon. Our mother was Japanese, but we didn't know her too well before she left."

He felt her still beneath him when he said 'died' so he pressed his lips to the top of her head.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, hugging him tighter.

They were silent for a bit before Natsu drew in a long breath.

"I started sculpting to show her how beautiful she was even when the chemo made her hair fall out," he told her. "She made me apply here, said I should do something with it."

Lucy shifted beneath him to bury her face in his neck, kissing the base of this throat.

"I wasn't going to go. I didn't think there was a point, but she knew me too well," he couldn't help the smile that broke out, "and left a note telling me to get up off my ass and go to this school already.

"So I came here for her. To make her proud."

He let out a loud sigh, bringing up the hand that wasn't pinned by Lucy to rub his face. "But I fucked it up. That sculpture is useless now and there's no way I'm going to be able to get it done in time for the end of the semester."

There was silence for a few minutes before Lucy perked up.

"How many classes do you have that are still running right now?"

Natsu raised an eyebrow at her, "Just the sculpting one. The others I finished last week. Why?"

"So you have a week before the showcase, right?" the smirk on her face made his brow furrow.

"Yeah, but there's no way I can get the whole thing done in one class," he groaned, head falling back to the pillow.

"Who said you could only work on it in class?"

…Huh?

…

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

"I'm the one who suggested it. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I mean…you'll be naked."

"Yeah. I'm naked all the time."

"…but it's just us."

"So?"

"So…"

"Natsu, if there's anyone I'm comfortable with staring at me for hours on end, it's you."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

He shook his head and let out a sigh. In front of him was a brand new chunk of clay, his tools and spray bottle were next to him, and the class model was in front of him, ready to strip and essentially giving him private classes.

And that's what she did.

For the next few days, when they weren't in class, Lucy was in Natsu's room modelling for him. He had to wear some loose pants the first few days—not knowing she was the model had its benefits—but eventually he'd managed to sculpt her entire torso.

And then he got to that shoulder blade.

"Fuck."

He was exhausted. It was late. His neck and shoulders hurt and he wasn't in the mood to try and tackle the one thing that just didn't seem to want to happen. Even the extra prep with his mallet didn't seem to help.

"What?" Lucy looked over her shoulder at Natsu. His eyes followed the arched curve of her neck and he had to shake the thoughts from his head.

This was exactly what she said she didn't like about modelling.

"This shoulder blade. I can get everything else but the lines of the muscle just don't work," he sighed leaning against the side of his desk in a huff. "Wasn't having any luck with it the first time around either.

The blonde tilted her head to the side and gestured with her chin, "C'mere."

Natsu's brow furrowed, "Huh?"

She smiled and laughed, "Come, here."

With a churn in his gut, Natsu stood from his seat and walked over to her.

"Feel it for yourself," she told him, turning away and baring her back to him.

What?

He blinked a few times and, swallowing the butterflies in his stomach, brought a hand up to her back.

She was so warm.

The curve of her spine really was soft, her skin like silk under his fingers as he traced the vertebrae with the pad of his thumb. He flexed the rest of his hand, sliding the palm up her ribs, to her shoulder, in the dip of her neck, into her hair.

He pulled it free of its elastic and let the curled tresses cascade down the length of her spine. Brushing them from her neck, he came up behind her and bowed his head, lips ghosting over the column of her throat.

She shuddered beneath his touch. "Natsu," she was breathless.

He brought both hands to her shoulders, thumbs kneading the tense muscles of her neck and back—tense from so much standing and posing. A gently moan escaped her lips and her head fell back on his shoulder, baring her flesh to him.

"Ah," she whispered, biting her lip.

He did is best to keep an eye on her face and not look down to her chest, which was difficult with how it was heaving.

She turned to him then, looking over his features briefly before pulling him down to kiss her.

Her mouth was hot against his as she pressed herself against him. Arching her back, hands on either side of his face, hips moving into his.

He groaned into her mouth.

His hands moved of their own accord to her back, following the muscles he'd spent so long recreating and not enough time touching. They rippled beneath his fingers and her skin and he sucked her lower lip into his mouth in response. She ground against him and he trailed down to palm her ass and hike a thigh up over his hip. He still had clay on his hands that was now streaked all over their bodies but she didn't seem to care and neither did he.

She moaned against his lips when he traced up her ribs and began to rub the side of one of her breasts. Wedging between their bodies, he rolled her nipple with his thumb and she broke away from his lips, shuddering beneath his touch.

It was enough of a gap for him to pick her up. With her legs around his waist he was at the perfect height to suck that nub into his mouth and flick at it with his tongue.

The response her hips gave sent a wave of his blood down south.

Dizzy, he carried her to his bed, lying her down as gently as his current mental state would let him. He hissed against her breast as she dug her nails into his shoulders and raked them down his back.

He broke away and trailed kisses up to her neck, biting into the flesh and grinning at the elicited gasp. He eventually moved back to her mouth, drinking her moans greedily.

"You've—" kiss, "—still—" moan, "—got—" whimper, "—work."

"I can stop if you want," Natsu pulled back and away, ready to stop but a hand pulled him back down.

"Don't you dare," she said firmly, wrapping her arms around his neck. "Please."

His answer was to claim her lips again.

…

The days after that were a bit distracting.

He'd finally managed to finish the sculpture—a hands on approach really helped—between certain…physical distractions. She'd curve her neck to one side and he'd have to suck on it, or he'd run his hands up the modelled clay and she'd need them on her body, now.

He'd filled her in a way he never had anybody else. It was different with her.

It was real.

That connection. That bond. That being with somebody else that you care for and trust. He'd never had that before and she'd said the same about herself. They lost themselves during the night and came together—in more ways than one, he'd like to joke.

So they found themselves, hand in hand, a hickey here and there, standing before their art once again in the show hall. The difference between the midterm showcase and this one was insane. The level had truly been upped and Natsu found himself anxious about it.

Lucy weaved her hand through his. "Don't be worried, you've got this."

Natsu buried his face in her neck, "What's Clive gonna say?"

"That it's brilliant."

Natsu's head snapped up to face his teacher, "Professor Clive."

The older man smiled, the first one he'd seen from him this year. "Glad to see you got back up on your feet, Natsu," he clapped him on the shoulder. "Just don't think you can get any private modelling classes next semester."

The sculptor blinked at his teacher, "Wha—"

"Lucy."

She perked up at her name and gave her full attention to Clive.

"I've recommended you to the second year modelling class, we can't have any conflict of interest. I made an exception this once considering the circumstances. Okay?" His face was stern but his eyes were kind.

Lucy nodded, "Yes, sir. Thank you very much."

Clive nodded and smiled before walking away.

Once the coast was clear, Natsu picked up Lucy and spun her around, kissing her face all over and hugging her tight. "Yes. Yes. Yes! Oh god, you're amazing. I fucking love you."

He froze at that.

Shit.

Setting her down gently, Natsu averted his gaze. He couldn't believe he'd said that. He started mumbling to himself. "Stupid me and my stupid mouth, I'm so sorry, Lucy. I know that that's really random and—"

She cut him off by pressing her lips to his.

"Shut up," she whispered, smiling against him. "You don't need to be embarrassed."

Natsu swallowed, finally meeting her burning golden gaze.

She brought a hand to his face and he leaned into her with closed eyes. "I'm not there yet," she told him, brushing the hair from his eyes. "But I'm…I am falling and it's terrifying."

"Technically you've already fallen twice," he snickered and she whacked his stomach with the back of her hand.

"You hush, I'm being serious."

"I know."

He looked down at her. Her stunning eyes, breathtaking smile, beautiful face, and beneath that her soul. "How did I get so lucky to find you?" he asked absently, relishing in the blush that adorned her cheeks.

"I stuck your ass on a plane, so you can thank me for that."

Natsu's stomach dropped as he spun around.

Bright red hair, pulled back into a low ponytail, russet scruff, tired eyes and a smile as wide as his own…he couldn't believe it.

"Dad?"

"Hey, kit."

He let his dad pull him from Lucy and draw him into a hug. He was warm and strong and his energy felt so much better than when he'd left.

"It's good to see you, dad," Natsu said softly, pulling away.

His dad smiled and ruffled his hair, "I know. I'm the shit."

There was a snicker from behind him and his dad looked away from him, back to the blonde he'd pulled him from seconds before. Natsu slid back beside her, arm around his waist. He didn't miss the way his father eyed the scarf around Lucy's shoulders.

"Dad, this is Lucy," he pulled her into his side. "Lucy, this is my dad Igneel."

She extended an arm out in greeting, "Nice to meet you."

Igneel ignored her hand and pulled her in for a hug. With how tall his dad was she was easily lost in his size and Natsu beamed at the laugh that escaped her.

"Been keeping him out of trouble?" he asked as he pulled away, and Lucy nodded.

"Oh he'd be in serious shit if it weren't for me," the blonde giggled, moving back to hold Natsu's hand.

Igneel's eyes lit up, "Does this mean we can pull pranks on him?"

A grin broke over Lucy's features, "Oh hell yes!"

Natsu protested at his father moving to steal her away.

She just silenced him with a kiss.

She was bright and excited as she talked to his father, talking with her hands like he'd seen before. He could feel the happiness radiating from her and he smiled at the sight.

His father.

He was still unshaven, but more rugged than ragged like he'd been the last time Natsu had seen him. His shoulders were still slumped, but not as much as they had been. His feet still dragged, but they were a big higher off the ground.

He was doing his best to live for her…so…so would he.

As he fell into step behind them, he could swear he heard a whisper in his ear.

"I'm proud of you, nii-san. Thank you."

He spun around on his heels, eyes darting everywhere for the source of the voice. A soft laugh ended as he did so and he didn't notice the tears streaming down his cheeks until they fell to his chest.

Wiping them away, he smiled and let out a gentle laugh.

No. Thank you, kaida.

Aaa! Thanks for reading!

Let me know what you think! :)

-xb