Cover Girl- Mirajane x Freed

Part 12: Alone Together

It had been a long day - a long job. Before Mirajane's restful presence he'd never really paid much mind to exactly how taxing the rest of the Raijinshuu were but he'd been firmly reminded on this last trip. With friendly relations finally restored, they'd prattled incessantly the entire time, Bixlow's dolls adding their two cents every few seconds until he'd been sure he would lose his mind. Three-quarters of the comments were slyly directed at him as his friends fished for details about his relationship with Mirajane and Freed had never been as glad to see Magnolia on the horizon, just as the sun was setting. Evergreen and Bixlow had opted to stay at a small hotel on the road leading out of Magnolia, too tired to finish the remainder of the journey that day, but Freed had gathered the last of his magic reserves and channeled it into his wings so he could make it back before midnight.

Just the sight of her soothed him - the hunger and the cold withdrawing as he basked in her presence alone. Without words, he pulled her into his arms, still marveling that she wrapped hers around his waist with no hesitation, and buried his nose in her hair. The headache was receding but he was increasingly becoming aware of the aches and pains he'd gathered on the way back, of the dust that clung to his hair and his skin.

She pulled away and stared up at him in concern, "Come inside, you're freezing!"

He followed with no protest, content to just be with her again, as she dragged him towards the bathroom and pushed a fluffy towel into his hands.

"Take a shower, I'll make you something to eat," she whispered, standing on tip-toe and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

With her finally within reach - it really had been the longest three days of his life - he was reluctant to let her go so quickly but the lure of warm water and warm food overcame the reticence and Freed quickly complied. The warm water worked wonders and when he finally stepped out from under the heated spray he was surprised to find his cloak, sword and boots gone though the rest of his clothes were folded neatly on top of the cabinet. One touch and he realized that Mirajane had, somehow, managed to both clean and dry his shirt, boxers and pants while he had been in the shower and he gratefully slipped the clothes on.

The smell of food immediately made his stomach rumble when he opened the bathroom door and he followed his nose to the kitchen where Mirajane hummed as she worked. It was a shock every time he saw her; as if he had forgotten how beautiful she was in the interim and his breath caught in his throat as he watched her heating the soup. It would be so easy to get used to this; to get used to coming home to Mirajane every night and he quickly forced his thoughts away from such dangerous territory.

After eating he felt vaguely human again and allowed her to lead him into the living room where she'd stoked the fire so the flames crackled merrily. Wearily he sank down onto the thick carpet in front of the fireplace, not even protesting when she reached up and undid the knot he'd pulled his wet hair into after the shower. Her fingers were soothing as she spread the wet length down his back and, as she combed through his hair so it would dry, he finally felt the last vestiges of the journey falling away.

"It was a nightmare," he muttered, grabbing her hands and pulling her forward so her arms wrapped around his neck from behind. He pressed kisses to each of her fingertips as he spoke, "They wouldn't keep quiet - either of them! They kept pushing and prodding and wanting to know absolutely every single detail of everything I do."

Her laughter huffed softly into his ear, stirring the dried strands of hair hanging loosely over his shoulders, "That's a good thing, isn't it? Means they've finally forgiven you and accepted that you haven't abandoned them."

"Do they have to be so vocal about it?" he returned, somewhat sourly, but with a soft sigh gave himself over to her busy fingers as she pressed them into his shoulders, carefully kneading the knots into nothingness. Languor stole over him at her touch and he lazily complied when her fingers reached for the hem of his shirt and pulled the garment over his head, so caught up in the way her hands and her mouth trailed fire over first his back and then his chest that he didn't realize the danger until it was too late.