Fragile

Chapter 12 - Maybe it will be ok

WARNING: This was not beta read and I only proofread this so forgive me for the mistakes!

DISCLAIMER: I do not own Fairy tail, Hiro Mashima does.

Pizza at three in the morning wasn't on Jellal's bucket list of things-he-wanted-to-do before he died. Nevertheless, he had to cross it out anyways. Erza always had cravings at midnight, but never pizza. Always cheesecake. Somehow the thought of her made his stomach turn unpleasantly.

Licking his lips, he turned his head to Lucy who was in the process of biting her slice.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked, head inclining slightly as he stared at her.

Lucy withdrew the slice from her awaiting mouth to lick her lips and nodded. "A bit," she murmured, finally eating. She swallowed and said a quick, "Thank you."

Jellal offered a small smile. "That's good to know."

Her eyes flicked from the window in front of them to his, and something about the way she looked at him made him want to pull her into his arms. But it was only a flicker of a feeling and before he knew it, his heart was aching terribly for a betrayal he would not name. Jellal was not one to deny his feelings. He had once as a child. He had this crush on a girl named Melody but she was too far, too much for him to look at from the sidelines and he decided that he could not—would not—like a girl as breathtaking as her.

Then, Erza came, and she was just as challenging to look at. Not in the way Melody had been, but it made his head hurt if he tried too hard to reject his own thoughts. He was not one to go after girls he liked and yet he found himself doing just that. She was not the girl he would normally like. She did not adore pink like the rest, nor did she wear make-up in class. She beat up guys who dared to harass her and was almost like a boy, if he would be so honest, but then again—she was Erza. She was difficult not to fall in love with.

So, what was this?

"It's good," Lucy commented softly, gazing at the slice of pizza in her hand with the tiniest smile on her face.

Why did everything feel wrong?

Jellal wondered if he was going crazy, because that must be it. It was three in the morning, they were both lacking in sleep and the past days had been hard for the both of them. He listed down every single thing he had been worrying about and tried to get rid of them. This was not the first time he had doubted his own feelings. He thought he had finished this internal debate within himself before he had gone to sleep and yet it was coming back to haunt him. He blamed it all on the stress—for sure, later, he wouldn't be feeling this way. His thoughts would no longer feel like knives piercing his gut, rather, he would forget all about this ridiculous mess he had created for himself.

He glanced at her then and noted the way her eyes had finally stopped looking red and puffy. He followed the path her hair fell through, as it slid gently from her ear to the side of her cheek, framing her face perfectly. Suddenly, he wanted to capture it in his memory. Suddenly, he was looking away, and there was that terrible twist in his stomach that made him screw his eyes shut.

Suddenly, Jellal realized, that he was not as strong as he thought he was.

.

.

On one tiring day, as the line in the lobby grew longer and longer, Lucy Heartfilia began to regret her decision to work. Not that she hated the job, no. It was perfect. Except she was aware that she was usually the cause of delay on most days, one of which being today.

The line never usually reached past three people. She rarely had to deal with two at once. The first time it happened was on a rainy day. Naturally, she blamed it on the weather. It was making everything seem too lethargic, too suspended for any kind of movement. It was the worst she had ever encountered but Gray had said that it was good training, and so she dealt with it, faced her clients with a back as straight as a needle, and ended the day with heels sore from standing and her back aching with stress.

It was supposed to be a slow day today, too. According to Jellal, there weren't any meetings for Gray nor were there any expected guests that she had to talk to. So when the line grew, and grew, and grew, Lucy thought that maybe—maybe this wasn't normal anymore.

"Y-Yes, sir, please wait just a moment," she stammered, hand automatically flying to the telephone to call the CEO. Of course, it went straight to the receiving line and she bit back a curse. She left a quick message before returning to her client.

"I am terribly sorry, sir, but it appears that the CEO is busy at the moment."

He quirked a brow, smiling lazily. "Is that so? How about you try calling again, Miss Heartfilia?"

Biting on her inner cheek, she called again. She knew it was a futile effort as it went back to voicemail but this time, she pretended it didn't. "A-Ah, Sir Gray, a client wishes to make an appointment with you later this afternoon," she rambled, mortifyingly aware of the watchful gaze of the man in front of her. "I see. Thank you, sir."

After a lot of insisting, and smiling, and bowing, the man finally decided to leave and then she was facing her next client. Sighing through her nose, she tilted her head slightly to the side and noticed that nearly every single one of the people lined up for her were men. She twisted her fingers amongst each other nervously. She was not going to falter—not now, not ever. She had to do this. Work was work and as much as she hated this, she had to do it. Jellal got her this job. She wasn't going to waste that now.

So she lifted her chin and held her head high, receiving her next client with a polite smile. It wasn't that difficult, perhaps, when she tried to envision all the men before her as undercover women. She bit her lip as she suppressed a smile. She then began to create a story as she handled them, telephone in between her ear and shoulder, the other jotting down their personal details, and her mind began to unravel an action-packed plot right before her eyes.

These women had been turned into men so that they could attain their goals without the oppressive and watchful gaze of the society. She was the gate where they had to pass through in order to get to the top (her boss) and so it was her duty to insure that she served each and every single woman lined in front of her today. She thought about this more and more as each person passed, ignoring the comments sent her way, or the leering gazes of men. Instead, she thought of this as something else completely to ease her nerves.

This was different, she repeated like a mantra, over and over, until the trembling in her fingers had completely vanished, leaving behind the flow of a calm sea.

It was half-past five when the line had finally reached its end, and her last client had bidden her a quick farewell while she talked to an imaginary boss on the telephone. Despite this, her notebook was now full of contact details of all of the businessmen, employees, and clients that wished to meet her boss. She tucked her hair behind her ear. She had done pretty well today considering the circumstances of her work. She still hated the uniform with passion, and ensured that she wore the tightest bra she had to keep her chest small – along with an inside shirt at last – but it was a high-paying job anyway and she would never take Jellal's help for granted.

Carefully, she tucked away the Record Notebook and sat down. She reached for her ankles and massaged it, sighing. Her feet hurt terribly from the heels she was wearing and she smiled, the pain reminding her of her days as a waitress back at Rickshaw's. It had been worse than her current situation. She always had to put wound plasters on her feet and whenever her shift was over, she would clean the restaurant barefooted. Thinking back now, this was probably the easiest job she had ever applied to since she graduated.

Her eyes saddened. She missed her mother greatly and she pushed the thought away. There was no point in dwelling on regrets and guilt, not when she had gone this far to get better. There would be another time to mourn.

That being said, she couldn't recall much about the incident anymore. It used to be vivid in her mind, the flames licking at her skin every time she closed her eyes, but now it was as cold as night, like something had buried it beneath snow. She supposed she didn't mind—it kept her head clear most of the time and that was what she needed to get by.

"Lucy."

She straightened, immediately spotting Jellal by the elevator, his laptop bag swung over his shoulder and his car keys spinning around a finger. She looked at the time and blinked.

"You're… out early," she observed stupidly, glancing once again at the time to assure herself that it was working. It was almost six in the evening. "Anything you need?"

He leaned casually against the counter, smiling at her as he shook his head. "No—just finished work for the day. Earlier than I originally planned but that's even better. How about you?" he paused, almost reluctantly, "I saw the long line of people earlier, just a glimpse but enough to see that it was going to take a while."

She ducked her head sheepishly, the tips of her ears flushing pink. "I managed fine."

"That's good." He lifted his wrist and checked the time. "Well, you have quite a while before your shift ends. I'm going to get us some food. What do you want?"

"Anything is fine."

Jellal arched a brow, looking at her with incredulity. "Come on, don't make my job any harder," he joked, laughing at the embarrassed look on her face. "I'm sure you're up for something specific. If it makes it any easier, I'm going to the nearest café so that should narrow down your choices a bit."

Lucy twisted her fingers into the fabric of her skirt. Truthfully, she wasn't that hungry, especially after that overwhelming amount of men that had lined up in front of her. The prospect of food hadn't crossed her mind since and she was still kind of feeling sick in the stomach. But Jellal had always been nice to her, even now, and she couldn't bring herself to reject his kind offer when he spoke to her that way.

She gave him a somewhat genuine smile. "I'll have a salad then… and a chicken sandwich."

Satisfied, he nodded and shoved his hands into his pockets. "I'll see you in an hour then."

"B-Be careful," she murmured, ignoring the sudden lurch in her stomach as he reached up to pat her head. She watched him exit the building, taking long strides to the double glass doors and remembered the strong planes of his back. She shook her head and resumed her work.

She didn't have the time to be fantasizing about someone else's man.

"Ah, you look like you might need a drink," a voice commented impishly to her right and she jumped, whirling around to find Gray bracing his arms against the counter, the corner of his lips tugged upwards into a smirk. "How was work?"

Lucy might have glared but she was different now. Instead, she settled for a displeased frown, pulling out her record notebook and handing it to her boss. "Forgive me for stepping out of line, Fullbuster-san, but you should have answered the numerous calls I sent your way." Not to mention, the fake conversations she had pulled over the voicemail, which he no doubt listened to.

He waved a hand in her direction, nose wrinkling slightly in irritation. "Please, call me Gray." He took the notebook from her hand and flipped through the pages quickly, eyes skimming the contents with disinterest. "And yes, about that—I apologize. I was dealing with other matters and sporting a headache. Although, there have been more clients than usual. I suppose that is because of you and not me entirely."

He laughed at the sudden blush that popped on her cheeks. "I am thankful, so I'm giving you a day-off tomorrow. Think of it as your reward for being a good employee, sweetheart."

Lucy's mouth hung open slightly, utterly speechless (and not even because of the nickname he had called her). She had always given her employer the best she could manage even when she was simply a waitress but never had she been noticed for it. If anything, it made her miserable and resentful of her previous boss, who refused to give out her bonus on some months due to the slow trickle of customers. Still, her work-rate never deteriorated and that was one of the things that she prided herself in.

She faced Gray and bowed gratefully. "T-Thank you, sir."

"Don't stutter," he tutted, head tilting ever so slightly to the side. She clamped her mouth shut and he chuckled. "Quite a shy one, aren't you?"

"A little…" she replied, although she was not always this meek. Lucy remembered vague memories of her teenage years, screaming at the top of her lungs and laughing until her stomach ached, singing with her friends at Karaoke places every Fridays after school and garnering awards for her talent in public speaking. She was a confident girl, always striving for her dreams and fighting for what she wanted the most.

But as leaves eventually turn red and detach themselves from the branch that nurtured them, she had lost all of that color too. She was left too far behind to grow again and was trampled on for far too long. Yes, she was no longer the sunshine that everyone used to call her so.

Gray slammed the record notebook shut, jerking her away from the abyss of her memories. She caught his eye and for a moment, they merely stared at each other. His lips twitched into an enigmatic smile, perhaps knowing that she had been dragged into the past she desperately tried to forget, and decided then and there to pull her out. She smiled back tiredly in gratitude.

"I may seem like a bad guy, Lucy, but you can come to my office whenever you feel like it." That being said, he pushed himself off the counter and stretched a little, groaning as something popped. "Ah, that feels great."

Lucy eyed him carefully, unsure of what to say next as she busied herself by returning the notebook in its place. "Thank you, Full—Gray."

His eyes caught hers, full of mischief and laughter at her slip and nodded briefly. "You can always talk to me. After all, I know there are things that you cannot tell Jellal."

She bristled, her mouth opening to retort, but the man had already reached the elevator, his hand raised in a wave and his lips tugged into a smirk as the doors slowly closed.

.

.

Dinner had been a pleasant affair. Jellal had greatly informed her of the novel he had been editing, even showed her snippets of it, but otherwise remained quiet. They ate in the car on the way home. He had arrived later than his promised time, offering apologies and blaming it on the café's popularity with teenagers. Apparently, it was terribly busy during the evening and he had waited for almost an hour before his orders were taken. By then, it took another fifteen to twenty minutes for his order to arrive and another ten-minute walk back to Vermillion.

By the time he had returned, Lucy was already changing shifts with Kamika, the girl deciding to arrive earlier than the usual. Then they decided to go home, with her salad bowl balanced delicately on her lap and one hand gripping her sandwich. It was such an odd situation that she found herself smiling slightly every time she thought of it.

She exhaled through her nose, pushing her hair back as the water poured steadily down her back. A hand reached out to turn the knob. She rinsed her body of soap and proceeded to coat her hair with conditioner before settling back onto the tub, letting her eyes drift shut once she had her head laying on the edge.

While Jellal occupied himself with reading in the living room, she had taken the time to indulge herself in a long-deserved bath. He had suggested turning off the lights and gave her a small battery-operated lamp, which dimmed into a yellow-orange light. The effect had eased the tension off her shoulders, letting herself relax at last as she submerged herself beneath the warm water.

Lucy tried to remember the many thoughts she always had. She had tried her hardest not to distract herself lately, especially during work, but it was proving to be a difficult task. Now that she had all the time in the world, she couldn't seem to remember any of her previous worries. Instead, she could only focus on the cicadas outside the house, singing gently along with her unconscious humming. She lay perfectly still in the tub, the smell of lilac and a hint of green tea wafting over her in a delirious swirl of scents, drawing out another sigh from her lips.

Unbeknownst to the quiet, healing woman, Jellal had been pacing the living room since she had left him to his own devices, uncharacteristically chewing on his nails out of nervousness. He would stop, glare at the floor, grunt and furiously muss his hair, before returning to his restless pacing.

On the table not too far away from him, his phone glowed brightly with an incoming call. He knew who the caller was without even glancing, and yet he couldn't bring it in him to answer it. He'd much rather continue his fretting until he had chewed off the rest of his fingers and ended up handicapped. Funny—the thought did not sound that unappealing. In fact, he was almost painfully looking forward to it.

Shaking his head, he growled and stopped as soon as the ringing ended. He stared at the phone expectantly, a hint of hope tinting his eyes. But then the phone buzzed again and he nearly tugged his hair out of its roots.

He knew though that he should be glad that his girlfriend was calling. Not too long ago he had almost begged her to stay with him in Japan, but his desire to let her spread her wings held him back. And now she was returning – too soon, his mind whispered – for good, most likely. It was now June, after all. Yet nothing could stop the incessant racing of his heart.

Despite himself, he found himself glancing at the door where Lucy bathed, oblivious to the unraveling mess he was. A shudder worked its way down his spine and he swallowed once, twice, reaching up to press his hands into his eyes when his phone yet again quieted before brightening almost mockingly with a call. The temptation to simply throw the damn thing across the room was promising.

He was being ridiculous, he insisted. This was—This was Erza.

His breath was shaky as he held the phone to his ear, listening to the other end of the line as he pressed receive. There was a muffled curse—a relieved sigh—and then complete, utter silence.

"…Jellal?"

The man bit back the urge to hang up and swallowed another time. "Erza," he breathed, albeit a little hesitantly. He prayed she hadn't noticed. "How are you?"

His toes curled at his awful attempt to seem cheerful.

"I'm alright, a little tired from the workload, but otherwise doing fine. And you?"

"Busy." His response came out quicker than he had intended and she seemed to hum in understanding. Guilt churned agonizingly in his gut. "Gray has been giving me extra work than usual because of the number of clients he's been getting. I hope to finish them before your return."

Jellal wondered when he had gotten so good at lying. "Well, you shouldn't be too worried. I might come home a little later than promised. I'm sorry."

His heart, crumbling and aching earlier, leaped with a new profound hope. "W-What?" he questioned in disbelief, though for a different reason than what his girlfriend probably suspected. "Why? Did something come up?"

She laughed apologetically over the line and he could imagine her nodding. "Something came up but I promise I will come home as soon as I can."

The next few lines came out less strained as he finally eased up, listening to the redhead's short but meaningful stories. As much as it pained him, he still loved her so, and hearing her do so well made him happy. The other part of him, however, scolded himself for being cruel and selfish. Moments ago, he was terrified of talking to her, in fear of his decaying feelings and not a few minutes later he could already feel his heart warming again. Thus, not wanting to prolong his suffering, he ended their conversation with a quick farewell and a whisper of his love.

Jellal stared at the screen of his phone with a blank expression. Somehow, he found the strength to put it back down on the table, his chest finally heaving with even breaths. Now that he could think much better, he discovered that his thoughts had somewhat become even more disorganized after Erza's call. For not only had he lied to her, he had also felt joy that she would not be coming back as soon as she had previously said. It meant Lucy could stay a little while longer and—heavens forgive him—more time for him to enjoy her presence.

A quiet voice inside him whispered—why can't you just tell Erza that Lucy is your friend?

Why couldn't he, indeed?

The sound of a doorknob turning made him start, head whirling to find Lucy standing by the bathroom, hair damp and dripping onto her shirt. She looked relatively better, her lips in a ghost of a smile, eyes noticeably brighter, and the lamp clutched tightly in one hand. She nodded to him in greeting and set the lamp down onto the kitchen counter before rummaging in the cupboards for a pack of instant coffee.

An inaudible breath left his lips. He hadn't been holding it that long but it was enough to make his chest squeeze with the lack of oxygen. Once again raking his fingers through his tousled hair, he crossed the room to return to the cushions, picking up the forgotten book on the coffee table. Behind him, he could hear Lucy moving around the kitchen—the gentle twinkle of glass on marble, the thrum of the microwave and the quiet padding of her bare feet on the tiled floor.

He turned to the words in front of him and tried to read. Tried. He always did fail at concentrating when his mind was full of unfinished business. Still, it didn't hurt to try. He pretended to ignore Lucy when she sat on the sofa across him, legs tucked femininely underneath her as she, too, began reading.

A pulsing headache began to form behind his left eye and he dropped the book in his lap, reaching up to press onto his forehead blindly.

The sound must've caught Lucy's attention for within seconds she was by his side, eyebrows furrowed in concern. "What's wrong?" She asked quietly, not wanting to raise her voice in case it could make his pain worse.

He forced a smile on his face, waving his hand nervously in dismissal. "Just a—headache. I'll be fine." A wave of pain attacked him and he screwed his eyes shut, unable to grit his teeth and groan from the feeling.

He heard a sigh—was it?—and a click. Raising his head a little, he saw Lucy return from the kitchen with the lamp and placed it far from them, illuminating the now-dark-room with its dim orange light. He looked at her in question.

She seated herself once again on the sofa, facing the opposite backrest as she piled pillows behind her back for comfort. "My father used to have terrible migraines. When I was little, I would watch my mother help him get rid of the pain with her fingers and eventually, when my mother and I were left alone, I would use it to get rid of her very own headaches." She smiled a little, lost in her memories. "I don't know if I can still do it that well but… I want to help."

Somewhere in the back of his mind, Jellal knew he shouldn't say yes. After all, his heart was terribly sensitive at the moment and he couldn't afford to let his feelings be stirred up when he had just talked to his girlfriend. But the other part of him – and the decidedly stronger one – firmly told him that he needed the massage and it wouldn't hurt to let her try.

Jellal made a quick note to blame it on his crippling migraine later on. "Alright," he conceded weakly.

"Please lay your head on my lap, it will make it easier for me," she instructed, shifting so she could place a pillow on her abdomen and patted it. "I don't have any of my lavender oil but I hope it will still work."

Reluctantly, he reclined back to lie down on the sofa, his head on the said pillow on her lap. He was aware of the thundering beat of his heart but paid it no heed, focusing instead on his breathing and on the faint smell of green tea that Lucy had.

"Tell me if it hurts, okay?" Her voice was so soft he barely heard her but he managed to mumble a response.

Slowly, her fingers began to tread through his hair. She was surprised to find it so soft and smiled to herself, beginning to press the pads of her fingers on certain parts of his scalp. She heard him hiss and that was all the confirmation she needed. Starting from the bridge of his nose, she slid her fingers up his forehead and into his scalp. She made rubbing motions by his temples before sweeping back up and repeating the action.

After a few more repeats, she could feel him relax beneath her massage and saw his eyes droop slightly. He sighed in relief as she made sure to also massage his scalp, focusing on the spot where he felt pain. She pursed her lips in concentration, failing to notice the click of a lock somewhere, or the steady rumbling of a luggage rolling in.

She did, however, hear a gasp and a simultaneous slam of something falling.

Lucy jerked away from Jellal. She bit back a yelp and turned to the door, only to feel every nerve in her body shut down as her eyes widened and her blood ran cold.

"E-Erza?"

The redhead stared back, face frozen with shock and something dark.

"Lucy."

a/n: Wow, I'm cruel aren't I. Not updating in a year and this is what I give you. Well, you might be wondering why the events are progressing a little quicker, well that is because most of the story will happen with Erza around. Hence, why she's home now! I don't want to spoil anything so please leave a review! If you noticed anything amiss, do inform me as I have forgotten most of the story's events now and might have repeated something or miswrote a scene. I am rushing to edit this since I have to leave in a bit so I apologize.