disclaimer: I own Fairy Ta— oh, wait

words: 3434 (okay, so I may or may not have added a few words to get that precise number)

for: Round 2 of the Fairytail Challenges.

spoilers: the recent chapters.

note: this was... odd. Yes. I don't know if I'll make it pass the round, but it was strangely fun to write.

drunkenly stumble inside

He climbs through her bedroom window sometimes, drunk and stumbling.

The first time, stink waves of alcohol are reverberating off him as if he had just bathed in a brewery (although, in her opinion, that's not so bad) and it scares her to death when she hears him tapping on her window. Hastily, she opens the window to let him in, worried that the consistent tapping would wake someone in the building. All the girls would have a fit if they find out that Macao, a guy who was married and over twice her age, was outside her window, and tapping to get in.

She doesn't get to ask why the hell he's doing here of all places because he's pushing past her, stumbling into her room with less grace than a baby elephant. He slouches himself down on the foot of her bed, and puts his head in his hands. From there, he mumbles something unintelligible about his wife. Yeah, that's what every girl wants to hear when her all-time crush climbs through her second storey bedroom window. How did he manage to get up here in the first place?

She glances out of the window, to check that no one else was outside and realizes that he must have climbed up the painted white trellis. For a moment, as she quietly closes the window, she ponders how he didn't fall and crack his head if he's this drunk. She doesn't get to fabricate a reasonable answer because then he audibly tells her, "She's leaving me."

Surprised, she whirls around and sees him running a hand through his slick hair that's much messier than usual. "What?" she dumbly says, running a hand through her own hair after remembering the state she must look.

His eyes turn straight to her, all bloodshot and glistening in tears. This isn't the same Macao Conbolt whom everyone knows and loves. It's as if he's not there – just a figment of her vivid imagination playing tricks on her, or an empty body whose soul and mind was elsewhere in a dangerous place, never to return. Alcohol never does this to him – but she doubts it's the ridiculous amount of booze he consumed that has him so distracted. He stares at her imploringly, the silent beseeching of 'please don't make me repeat it' chilling her to the core. "She's leaving me, Cana," he repeats anyway, putting more emphasis on the second 'a' in her name, rather than the first.

Yeah, that's what she thought he said.

He sighs gruffly, and lies back on her bed, staring contently at the ceiling. There's a bitter taste in her mouth – worse than lime and tequila – when she even thinks about all the nights Macao and what's-her-name had spent together, sharing the same bed, but she swallows it down. Macao pushes himself further up her bed and lies on her pillows, head resting right next to a few of her plush toys that Lisanna and the others had bought her.

Despite his handsome features and carefree teenage attitude, it doesn't stop or erase the fact that he's much older and more experienced than she is. He won't look at her like she wants him to. He's old enough to be her father! There's a fluttering in her stomach as she remembers her father, the daring and brave Gildarts, and for a moment begins to imagine what he would do if he knew about this. Threaten Macao, and tell him to leave his daughter alone, like any protective father would? But then Macao would fight for her and then…

The fluttering disappears in so few seconds and is replaced with a pit at the bottom of her stomach as she watches tears escape Macao's dark eyes, dark as night in this gloomy evening, and his handsome face stains with a pathetic and mournful wince, his mouth hanging open in a silent sob. She cringes, hating herself now for daydreaming childish fantasies - that were improbable of becoming real - when Macao feels painfully sorrowful. She may not care for his wife, but she does care for him – her nakama.

So, she does the only thing she can think of. Kneeling to the floor, she looks under her bed and gropes around in the darkness until she feels the cool feel of glass. It's right at the back of the small space under her bed – hidden from any other prying hands. She doesn't want to risk anyone from Fairy Hills finding it and having a fit over all the money she'd spent on alcohol.

Cautiously, she takes the bottle of expensive scotch out and stands up, inspecting it. She had bought the costly alcohol with the jewels she had earned long ago. Until now, she had never taken a sip of the luscious drink, saving it for a celebration or a horrid day where she needed a pick-me-up and beer wouldn't suffice.

"Hey," she whispers to Macao, who had been watching her with questioning eyes. She holds the bottle out to him, hoping that her face shows nonchalance rather than sympathy. She knows well enough that Macao doesn't like people to take pity on him – no one in their Guild does.

A smile spreads across her face when he sits up with a groan and takes the bottle from her. Their fingers graze one another and she's thankful that the dim light from the moon isn't bright enough for Macao to see her cheeks flaming from the littlest touch from him.

Then the rest of the night is pretty much a blur, although that's expected from all the alcohol she and Macao consume - which dries up the rest of her secret stash too.

She wakes up sprawled on her bed, clothes ragged and messy, hair bedraggled and with the worse splitting headache in history. She groans as she attempts to sit up, only to land back on her soft and comfortable mattress again. After a few tries, and possibly falling back asleep for an hour or so, she crawls off her bed and stretches.

The one thing she hates about alcohol was the quenching stomach and headache the next morning. She wonders if, after years of drinking, she'll finally be immune to the pain. She'd have to ask Macao…

She freezes as remnants from last night comes rushing back. It involved a lot of alcohol and drinking, not to mention hushed conversations that consisted of her cussing out Macao's soon-to-be ex-wife, and Macao going on about how she'll to regret leaving him.

And then… she winces and her whole face becomes flooded with red as she remembers sloppy kisses, rough shaven skin brushing against her soft cheeks, hands through her hair, and breathe tainted with the smell of scotch.

The window is open again, letting a cool breeze into the humid room.

She slams the window shut, the window shaking in the pane as she trembles too, fighting back tears as she thinks about how Macao just left – taking her first kiss and her 10,000 jewel supply of alcohol along with him.

…

He treats her with the same warmth, the same smile, and the same casualness as always. "Want a drink?" he asks her when she walks into the Guild. He's sitting next to his best bud Wakaba, glasses of beer in front of them and joyful smiles on their faces as they enjoy their drinks.

"Ouch, someone drank too much last night," he adds upon seeing her bloodshot eyes.

She grimaces and walks past him without so much as a word. How the fuck can he say that when he was with her last night? She guesses it's because he doesn't want anyone to know about what happened, and she knows it's because of their stupid age difference and the fact that he just separated from his wife, and it wasn't even official yet.

Still, doesn't stop her from being upset that he just left her without a goodbye.

"What happened to you last night?" Gray asks as he sits next to her. As much as she wants to tell him and everyone else to piss off, she doesn't because Gray's one of her only real friends.

"Don't remember," she lies, because despite them being friends, she doesn't want to share that with him and she doubts that Macao will be ecstatic if he finds out Gray knows.

There's a pining in her heart, hoping that Macao just doesn't remember.

But she doesn't want to forget.

…

The window is open again, but she just wants a cool breeze to enter the scorching room, not for Macao to suddenly appear outside her window and climb through again.

Before his spontaneous visit, she's lying on her bed, on her back where it hurts the least to put pressure on. The wounds fucking kill and she's never been this banged up before. However, she's not alone in the injury department because Gray had to get over 50 stitches. They'd doubled up on a mission and had both gotten hurt whilst fighting. But it's a good thing there had been two of them, otherwise she would be in a box in the ground, rather than lying on her bed trying not to hyperventilate from all the medicine she's taken.

When she hears the thump and stumble by the window, it's not the reasonable thought of 'oh, Macao's climbing through my window again' - it's the fearsome thought that the criminals are back and want to take their revenge out on her. Splatters of blood on her walls and screams of anguish and pain run through her mind before a familiar deep voice says, "Hey, Cana!"

She immediately sits up, and tries to ignore the pain she gets from the fast movement. "What're you doing here?" she asks in surprise.

"Came to check on you," he casually replies, like the answer was as obvious as the sun was bright. "Saw Gray, he looked dead on his feet."

Cana mentally made a note to kill Gray the next time she saw him – after she gets her bandages off, of course. She didn't want anyone to know about her injuries – much less check on her. She's supposed to be the daughter of Gildarts, the strongest Mage, next to Master, in their Guild. If he were to find out that he has such a weak daughter, he'll be so disappointed.

That doesn't mean she's not the least bit happy that Macao was worried enough to climb through her window to check on her.

"How are you?" he asks as he perches himself on the side of the bed, right next to where she sits with her legs outstretched.

"I've got a punctured lung and a few broken ribs – but, other than that, I'm all good," she aloofly replies.

"Yeah, 'cos a punctured lung is nothing," he adds with a melodramatic roll of his eyes, and Cana giggles a little at his lightheartedness. "Want a sip," he asks her as he pulls out a silver flask from his jacket pocket. She pauses for a moment in thought, remembering what had happened the first time he made an appearance in her room.

She really wants him to kiss her again.

"Pass it here," she tells him, holding out her hand.

Nothing of that sort happens, and between the pills and the alcohol, she forgets about wanting to kiss him halfway into the night. In all honesty, she's just glad that she has someone who cares about her.

…

Nights like those continue to happen, expect she isn't injured and doped on pills, and he isn't there to check up on her. It's basically them having their own little drinking party in the privacy of her bedroom, away from prying eyes. If anyone else were to see them, it wouldn't be entirely shocking sight to see them drinking together alone. But if it's alone in her bedroom… that's sure to draw some raised eyebrows.

She asks him a few times, when she's too drunk to feel nervous about what she's about to say, why he bothers with the hassle of sneaking in, just to have a drink with her. He replies in the usual cool indifference, "It's nice to drink with someone who isn't an old geezer like Wakaba," or, "We can't drink together in the Guild Hall without someone butting in."

It is never, "It's not a hassle."

It's fun, because hardly anyone her age drinks in the Guild Building, anyway. Mirajane and Erza are always too busy fighting to drink; Laxus never drinks the booze in their Guild, stating in his not unusual cocky manner that he'll 'never be caught drinking that crap'; Loki goes out to drink with his herd of screaming fan girls; Gray drinks occasionally, but she makes sure he keeps his drinks to the minimum because the more alcohol the Ice Head drinks, the more clothes he seems to mysteriously lose.

She's pounding back way too many drinks one night and there are empty bottles surrounding her, some broken to bits with their shards sharp and dangerous.

"Hey, hey," he says, hastily by her side and pulling the bottle away from her. She reaches out to grasp it back but he holds it tightly in his hand and holds it far away from her. "You should cut it down a bit."

"Leave me alone," she groans, leaning over his lap to grab the bottle from his grasp.

"Seriously, don't you know what alcohol poisoning is?" he asks, again taking the bottle from her, just as she takes it to her lips to take a sip. He throws the bottle behind him, and it hits her wardrobe and shatters to pieces. She doesn't even care if the shattering of the glass woke anyone up.

"Who cares, anyway? It's not like I have a big mission tomorrow," she tells him with a dramatic roll of her eyes. The room looks weirdly warped and her head is spinning. "It's not like I'm some stupid S-Class Mage."

He stares at her for a few moments, eyes full of sympathy and understanding. She hates it. She doesn't want his pity or anything stupid like that. She pushes herself up and avoids Macao as he tries to grab her arm to get her to talk to him. Even under the influence of alcohol, she won't talk about her feelings. She won't ever tell him that all she wants is to feel loved, and have her father's acceptance and Macao by her side.

"There's always next year," he tells her while she digs into her closet for another bottle of booze. She has more beer in her room than they do in the Guild Hall.

She snorts and takes a swig of her drink. That's what they all say, forgetting the fact that that had just been her, what, third time failing the exam? "Yeah, right," she says.

"C'mon, you can do it!" he insists. "I know you, Cana. I know how strong you are. Sooner or later, you'll become an S-Class Mage."

"You don't know that!" she bursts out, swiveling around to face him. "I try so hard and-" She gasps, sobbing, and tears trickle down her cheeks.

He holds the whole night, as she cries into his shoulder, insisting that she's not good enough to be in the Guild. She eventually falls into a blissful and dreamless sleep, feeling safe in his warm arms, and pretends to be asleep when he kisses her gently on the forehead and then leaves.

…

That happens again, when Mirajane and Elfman return to the Guild to tell them the tragic news that their baby sister Lisanna was dead.

Macao promptly wraps his arms around her as she sobs, hugging her knees to her chest. She cries into his shoulder, her tears staining his shirt. Not for a second does the thought cross her that maybe he feels upset too.

She learns her lesson the next day in the Guild, where everything is, for once, silent. She awkwardly takes a seat at one of the tables, a little away from the quiet Gray. Her gaze drifts off on to Macao, who's slouched on his seat by the bar.

"Why don't you head out?" Wakaba tells Macao, for once deadly serious with no grin on his usually joyful face.

"No thanks."

"You should. That new girlfriend of yours won't wait around for long."

Her eyes widen at that word, her hands impulsively clenching into fists. She unclenches them, and instead crosses her fingers under the table, hoping that she'd heard wrongly or Macao will correct Wakaba and tell him that he has no girlfriend.

Instead, he says, "I know," and leaves it at that.

Girlfriend. Not a friend that's a girl – no, that's Cana. A girlfriend, whom Macao probably spends nights with - when he isn't hanging out with Cana. A girlfriend, whom he probably laughs with about 'some silly girl called Cana' who has a 'stupid teenage crush'.

Hastily, she leaves the table, no one even glancing her way, and disappears down the stairs to the storage unit. There, she finds huge barrels of beer. She finishes one in minutes.

…

The windows close and taps on the glass, the persistence to get into her room and mind, only to mess with them all over again, continue for a while, but stop too. He has a girlfriend. He shouldn't be knocking on other girls' doors – or windows.

The first time is hard, with her having her back to him while he relentlessly taps and taps and taps against the clear glass. She stays there, rooted to the spot, in full view of his vision. She does this so he can get the message that she's hearing him but doesn't want to listen.

Still, he tries again another day, and she continues to ignore him.

They never get a minute alone in the Guild, so he can't bring it up there either. She still treats all friendly-like, she always does, and tries not to cry when he says he's going to meet his girlfriend and leaves.

The feelings are always there, in the back of her mind, mocking her, but she never approaches them or thinks about it that much. Still, her already broken heart still skips a beat whenever she sees him, and his eyes seem to twinkle when he meets her gaze.

She should be over this stupid crush by now. She's already eighteen – an adult! She shouldn't be affected by little childish feelings he'll obviously never return. Not to mention, she has important things to worry about, like her fifth S-Class exam.

She hates him for inconveniently appearing just before she's boarding the boat that will take them to where the trails are being set. She hates herself for telling Lucy that she'll catch up with her before heading towards the familiar figure.

"Just came to wish you good luck," he tells her with a warm smile that almost makes her melt.

"Thanks," she replies, a small smile appearing on her face. "Fifth time's the charm, eh?"

"Or sixth or seventh."

She cringes, and his smile fades away. "It doesn't matter how many times it takes, Cana," he sympathetically tells her.

"Yes, it does. This will be my last try," she adds. She can hear the faint shouts of Gray and Lucy, telling her to get on the boat. "I've got to go."

"Wait," he tells her and she whirls around, just in time for his lips to brush against hers for the fewest of seconds. She stares at him, bewildered, and her fingers went to her lips in complete surprise. "Good luck," he wishes her and then begins to walk away.

She can still feel the feel of his lips when the dreaded black dragon attacks them. They all gather round in a circle, linked by their hands and their hearts. Warmth and comfort flood through her as she thinks of her mother, and Gildarts squeezes her palm. Macao crosses her mind once again, and as black consumes them all, she can't help but realize that maybe it isn't a small teenage crush. She really does love him.

Too bad he'll never know.

…

Rain pours down on the empty space the island once stood, and tears stream down on the empty bed she once slept in. He curls up in her bed, inhaling the scent of lavender and beer. It's a mismatched mix, just like the two of them.

…

He still climbs though her bedroom window, always drunk and stumbling.