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My baby lives in shades of blue

Cool heart and hands and aptitude

"I'm fine."

His gray eyes were unreadable as ever though the odd darkness under his eyes and extreme mess that was his hair proved her otherwise. He could feel her tense for a moment and he suddenly realizes he's a bad liar.

"No you're not." She spoke barely above a whisper, for his ears only. His eyes widened, heat rising to his cheeks. She always had a way of knowing, always had a way of being so persistent it was tiring and touching at the same time. He was almost certain she would press further until he heard her singing to herself quietly, all up in her own little world again. Unpredictably predictable, eh? She was imperfectly perfect (for him) though he'd never dare to confess it, to himself or otherwise (except subconsciously). He couldn't stop his lips from curling upwards before taking another long drag of a cigarette from his long-abandoned stash, puffing the smoke into the air silently as she coughed a little too obviously, and he looked to the ashtray which was more than a little more full than she would've liked.

Just making her presence known.

I'm one of many, one is blue

And when he calls, he calls for me, and not for you

"Juvia. Come here."

"What does Gray-sama need?"

Her eyebrows slightly furrowed and her lips slightly pouted, there was a wavering tinge of worry in her voice, probably from the desperation of his hushed demand.

He hoped she couldn't feel him tremble while pulling her harshly into his lap, whispering huskily against her skin. "You." His icy fingers ran down her spine delicately, as if she was suddenly the fragile one. Her back arched a little more with every single touch, and her sweet smile was something he couldn't decide if he wanted to break or steal for himself. Her warm hand traced his chest up to his uncomfortably hot cheeks.

Yet in her eyes was more than love, just sorrow.

But I can't fix him, can't make him better

And I can't do nothing about this strange weather

He had a faraway look in his eyes as she hesitantly traced his scar, soft lips dragging gently across its surface and her flowery perfume melting his resolve until he planted a lingering kiss over her uneven pulse only to push her away suddenly—he avoided eye contact as he idly buttoned down his shirt, fingertips shaking mercilessly. She was just one of many he had to lose. He didn't like letting people in, because they had a bad habit of letting themselves out. He hated how selfish he was to sacrifice her happiness because he knows she won't always be there. He hated even more how she let him push her away when all he wants to do is hold her closer.

Cause you are invincible

I can't break through your world

Cause you live in shades of cool

Your heart is unbreakable

He risked a glance longingly in her direction. She was still smiling with her big sad eyes and suddenly he wishes he'd just cry already. Yet he didn't shed a single tear.

Because she knows. And she always wanted to share his burden. His fingers moved involuntarily, entwining themselves in her safe hands which had always calmed him with gentle caresses.

Maybe just this once.

Drip.

Drip.

Drop.

And it began to rain.

Cause you are invincible

I can't break through your world

Cause you live in shades of cool

Your heart is unbreakable. . .

Because regardless if he was her sunshine, he had learned to love the gray skies—the stormy weather, the unforgiving thunder and seemingly endless pouring rain against the echoing rooftops like the soothing lullaby only she could sing to him.

But even so lonely and cold as ice, it wouldn't rain forever. Those aching lips soon collided, choosing to show rather than tell the three words left unspoken that he had refused to speak ever again.

And as the dulcet tones reminding him of her somehow as they haunted the radio slowly died out for the 5th time, he decides he wishes she was more than a wishful memory.