She loved him to the end of the world and beyond but loving Gray Fullbuster was hard.

He made it hard.

Every time he distanced her, expecting she would quit.

Every time he hurt her, presuming he will reach the point, that point where she would just drop.

Every time she read in his eyes the wait and the fear, as he was waiting for it to happen, for her to surrender. Then if it would really happen, he will shatter like a glass.

The hurt in his soul was like black marks ready to spread on the surface.

For every good thing that happened, there was a part of him, the darker one, ready to swallow the light.

For her he was the sun, but as it can shine and balm your skin he can even leave you in the dark and the cold if you don't look in the right direction.

He was to her like the twilight hour on the land. Waving from the warmest orange light of the resilient ray to the walking shadows that tries to bite the ground. Piece by piece.

There was a faint line between the dark and the sun and She lived in that boundary.

Fighting the black, gripping the shine.

Every time she made him laugh, he gleamed.

Every time she hugged him, soothing his demons, he shone

Every time she looked at him with such love in her eyes, he shimmered.

But then it happened all over again, the black crack of his soul let the monster to the surface eating the glow.

"He had never experienced it. He didn't know how to do. He was used to losing. He didn't deserveit"

This was what the monster suggested, this was how he fed it. The beast devoured what he wanted the most.

It happened every time he wanted to touch her and he restrained.

Every time he wanted to warm her and he stopped.

Every time he wanted to tell her. Every time he wanted to love her.

He didn't deserve love, the monster suggested, and he froze.

"She will go away like the others did," the beast inside said, and he retired.

"She will not resist endlessly," and he pushed her.

He never thought to deserve love because every time he had, he had lost it,opening a crack for the black pitch to spill-and Nothing can grow in the dark.

For every piece of him that wanted to feel the warmth, there was a black mark ready to eat the hope and fill it in fear, embracing him, trapping his body behind cold bars.

Luckily Juvia was water ready to fill his cracks. To wash and blush the dark in colours. Juvia was strong enough to fight his demons and see through the dark, glueing his pieces in glowing ropes letting his colours bleed, cleaning the black, blending the tones.

Loving Gray Fullbuster was hard but Juvia Lockser was a fighter.