The Drunk List [Gratsu]

eleven

Hey y'all, quick announcement. I'm going to try to move this story along fairly quickly because I have a couple story ideas in my mind that I want to do but won't be able to focus on. Happy/apprecitative comments y'all always leave make me want to update fast. ♡

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Gray's POV: 6:02 PM

After Natsu had roughly brushed by me, uttering some excuse about not wanting to impose, I wanted desperately to run after him, but Juvia had me in a death lock. So I just stood there, watching him disappear into the crowd of festivalers.

I looked down helplessly at Juvia with a sense of wildness and urgency shining in my eyes. A lightbulb went off in Juvia's head and she closed her eyes. "Gray-sama doesn't like Juvia anymore, does he? He's fallen for another."

I blushed and shifted the weight on my feet nervously, avoiding her close-eyed stare. She sounded disappointed, but also the slightest bit relieved. "Go to him, then," She whispered breathlessly, squeezing her eyes shut, as if she would take back her words if I didn't act quickly.

"I'm sorry," I choked out. She only shook her head, smiling sadly.

"Juvia knew it all along. Now hurry, Gray-sama," Juvia motioned behind her to the crowd. I didn't hesistate- I began to rush past civillians in order to find the rejected, hurt, pink-haired boy. I briefly looked over my shoulder at Juvia one last time. She was staring at the darkening sky, taking in the tantalizing view of the cottonball clouds and orange-purple sunset.

I mouthed a 'thank you' I knew she'd never see and broke out into a run.

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Natsu's POV: 11:49 PM

To: Natsu

Where do you live?

To: Gray

Well, that's rather stalkerish.

To: Natsu:

Answer the question!

To: Gray

In a house.

To: Natsu

Come on, be more specific!

To: Gray

Fine. 780 Poppyseed Road.

To: Natsu

Thanks.

To: Gray

Don't show up, I swear. It's like midnight.

To: Natsu

11:30. Now, tell me, which window is yours?

To: Gray

Oh, hell no.

To: Natsu

I have McDonalds!!

To: Gray

I'll be waiting at the front door.

Sighing, I tugged on my long-sleeved pajama top and quietly padded downstairs. Thankfully, marble flooring didn't squeak against socks, so I wasn't about to wake anyone else up. I sat down on the cold tile by the front door, listening and waiting. Roughly two minutes after I came downstairs, I heard soft footsteps come up the patio stairs and I creaked the front door open.

Gray beamed, holding up the fast food bag. I gave him a flat look, took the bag, and let him inside.

He seemed to understand we were supposed to be dead silent, and he followed me upstairs, where I led him into my room. After shutting it with as much ease as I could, I turned to the black-haired boy who took the liberty to plop down into my desk chair and start spinning.