Cover Girl- Mirajane x Freed

Part 5: Pain and Rage

The sun had risen properly by the time Freed woke up again. His body felt stiff and sore from leaning motionlessly against a tree for so long but Mirajane looked comfortable enough, curled into his side as she slept on, peacefully unaware of her surroundings. A pang of emotion he couldn't identify ran through him as his eyes carefully perused her sleeping features. She looked so innocent and young in slumber, her lips slightly parted and a rosy flush to her cheeks.

You are always ready to take care of everyone around you... but who takes care of you, Mirajane?

He hated to wake her but they couldn't stay asleep in this sunlit spot forever and, his heart beating painfully fast at the thought, he reached a hesitant hand out to her. Her skin was softer than he ever could've imagined, the way pure silk must feel, as he ran he knuckles gently down her cheek. A slight frown puckered her brows together but she merely sighed and buried her face into his neck with another soft huff and he froze into place.

It was far too much and not nearly enough; her lips just brushing against his neck, her warmth pressed firmly into his side as she curled into herself, one knee coming to rest on his thigh and one hand burrowing into his hair as she wound an arm around his neck. His heart raced, blood rushing through his veins, and sudden heat glowed from his head to his toes; he could feel the blush turning even the tips of his ears bright red. Emotion swelled and crashed over him in wave after wave of confusion and for the first time he admitted to himself that maybe his reasons for helping her weren't entirely altruistic. He could deny the attraction he felt until he was blue in the face, but the fact remained, she'd lashed out at him in a fit of protective rage when he was inflicting pain on her brother so many months ago, and it had been as if he was seeing Mirajane for the first time. Suddenly he'd really seen the beauty she was so famous for but more important than that, he couldn't forget how she'd reached out to him; with his world crashing down around his ears, and though she had every reason to hate him, she'd instead taken his hand and reminded him of why he'd always thought of Fairy Tail as his home. Instead of berating him or inflicting blame, as he'd wanted so badly for her to do, she'd shown him the way through the darkness and guided him back to himself. And, for the first time in many years, Freed had realized there was more to life than the insular existence of the Raijinshuu following along in every move Laxus made.

In the months since, as he'd compulsively denied the existence of every pang of attraction, every bated breath as she bent over the bar or reached up for a bottle, always smiling ... he'd lost the battle and allowed her to creep under his skin. She was always in his head now, and he was so tired of ignoring it; of ignoring her and the way she made him feel. The way even her slightest smile made his stomach flip over and his blood race until he felt lightheaded....

He closed his eyes, firmly taking control of his suddenly wayward thoughts, fighting against the urge to take her into his arms and press his lips against hers until neither of them could breathe anything but the other, and took a deep, calming breath. It was never a good idea to lie to oneself, and with the admittance of his deepest secret came relief, but analyzing it would have to wait. For now, Mirajane would never forgive him if he didn't wake her soon and he would never forgive himself if he took advantage of her vulnerable position.

"Mirajane," he kept his tone low, hoping it would mask the longing he wasn't entirely able to repress, "Mirajane, wake up."

She stirred again, her head turning and her hand falling away from his nape, much to his relief, and she sleepily opened her eyes. Her smile, when freshly awakened, was even more angelic than usual and Freed swallowed convulsively as the urge to kiss her rose again - higher and stronger than before. Instead he carefully averted his gaze, but even as he moved so did she.

"We have to move!" she gasped, struggling with her skirts as she rose to her feet, "we've already wasted so much time." Mirajane yanked fretful fingers through her sleep-tangled hair as she glanced around the clearing to gain her bearings.