Lucy Heartfilia lies awake, staring at her ceiling. It's late—sometime past midnight—and it is raining. If she were feeling poetic, she might say that the sky was pouring out all of its sorrows onto the sleeping city below. Or maybe it's a lullaby for someone she doesn't know. What she does know, is that it's late and it is raining.
And her bedroom window is open.
There's a cool breeze drifting through, rustling the sheer curtains hanging in the window and leaving chilly kisses on her bare skin. The cool air smells like rain—something full of life and refreshing, yet full of sadness at the same time—and she breathes it in and soaks it up.
She closes her eyes, long lashes brush against her cheeks, and wishes for sleep. But there's something inside of her, and it whispers into her heart. Don't sleep, just stay awake.
So she counts sheep in her head, and watches as they jump over imaginary white picket fences where the grass is greener, and the sky is blue, blue, blue. She only makes it to twenty-two before her windows rattle with a particularly strong gust of wind.
It's quiet, and she waits a few minutes before she opens her eyes.
And when she does, there's a body standing over her bed.
"It's kind of creepy when you do that Natsu, I have to admit."
Lucy feels something wet and warm hit her face, and she sits up.
"What—," her eyes widen and she inhales sharply, "you're bleeding!"
She slides out of bed and hurries to snatch the medical supplies she keeps on hand, as well as some water and towels. When she returns to her room, there's a leather jacket tossed aside, and a bloody gray t-shirt on her floor.
She deposits her armload onto the bed and presses closer to the wounded man bleeding all over her comforter. There's a ridiculously large gash in his side, and she cringes. It's serrated and jagged and looks all kinds of painful, but the owner of the wound isn't complaining at all.
Lucy sighs and pours rubbing alcohol over some gauze. "This is going to sting, but I can almost guarantee you that it isn't going to hurt as much as when you got this."
The man on her bed doesn't even flinch as she presses the cold, sterilized cloth to his side. She works in silence, cleaning and threading a needle to sew up the new horizontal hole in his side. He flinches slightly when she sticks the needle into his tender skin, but that is the only movement she gets from him.
After she's finished, the blonde wipes her bloody hands on a fluffy white towel and tosses it next to his jacket.
"I knew that you were out there tonight." she speaks up, russet eyes locking with his own burning onyx orbs. "I could feel it. I think I've developed a sixth sense that alerts me when you're out working."
Natsu reaches out and grabs her wrist before pulling her forward. He leans down and presses his lips to hers, and she closes her eyes to take it all in. He winds his bloody fingers through her hair and she wraps her arms around his neck. The kiss lasts until Lucy's lungs burn and she has to pull away for air.
It's cool and it burns, contrasting his touch and taste, and she gulps down the misty oxygen.
"We make a horrible couple, you know." she informs him.
Natsu ghosts his fingers over the bare skin of her back, and his voice is deep and raspy. "Why is that?"
"Because," Lucy plays with some of his wild salmon locks, "I'm just a girl who likes to sit and write in coffee shops, and you're a killer for hire." her lips twist upward, into a bitter smile. "The world would tear us apart and eat us alive."
He encircles his arms around her and draws her to his chest. They sit there, like that, for what seems like infinity in a moment. The rain beats against the metal fire escape outside her open window, and thunder rolls in the distance.
Their little forever, or that's what Lucy likes to think.
She smiles into his shoulder. "How did we even become friends, anyway?"
"You spilled coffee on me."
Her eyes sparkle as she laughs. "Oh yeah—right. What kind of guy like you buys coffee at small, out-of-the-way shops like that anyway?"
Natsu closes his eyes. "The kind that wants to stay as far away from people as possible, usually."
Lucy waits for a heartbeat before speaking.
"I saw something—on the news the other night. Was that you?"
His mouth twists into a scowl. "No."
She nods. "I didn't think so."
He looks at her carefully, the girl who is all smiles, sunshine, and bubbly laughter. She is beautiful, uncorrupted, innocent, and she has never killed more than a fly or the occasional spider in her life. She is everything he doesn't deserve, shouldn't have, and shouldn't touch.
Because girls like her are like china dolls. Once broken they are never quite the same again, and people like him only destroy what they touch. It's either one way or another, and death always follows him wherever he goes.
She is just a glimpse into another world—a world he might have had. A world of normal jobs, falling in love and getting married, having children and buying a house, never looking over your shoulder or killing for hire. A world unstained, untouched, unbroken.
He is not. Not innocent, not free of his demons, not fit for that world because he is broken, battered, bloody, and so very stained. His world is one of violence, of surviving and killing. And pretty china dolls like her simply do not belong in a world like that.
But he loves her, and she loves him, and the lines blur.
He is black and she is white, but together they are gray.
"I'll never hate you." Lucy promises, smiling at him.
Natsu isn't able to swallow the lump in his throat and speak, so he kisses her instead.
He tastes like death and everything she is not, but she can't get enough.
