This is a new story. I'll try my best to entertain you.

Disclaimer: I don't own Fairy Tail or any of the characters.

XXXX

It had to be her red hair. Or maybe the maroon freckles littering the bridge of her cutely upturned nose and rosy cheeks. Or her chocolate brown, almond eyes. Even her rare, bright smile.

Damn, everything about her was absolutely perfect.

Jellal sighed dreamily and stared at the woman seated on table 6. He was supposed to be cleaning the bar stool until it shined like the the summer sun, however he suffered from a severe case of I-can't-tear-my-eyes-off-the-woman-on-table-six inflammation.

The red haired beauty first came in the restaurant/bar/café Jellal was currently working at about a month ago or so and since then, she had been there every day, seated on the same table, ordering the same cinnamon tea and chocolate muffin. She would stay from five o' clock until seven thirty, or rarely eight, the whole time working on either her laptop or drawing on a notebook full of little, neat letters.

It was love at first sight. You know this feeling when you see someone and you just know it that they are it for you? Yeah, that was pretty much what Jellal had felt when he first saw her.

And it was only getting worse by the day.

Jellal sighed again. It was pathetic, really. He knew exactly her schedule - well, it wasn't very variable so to say - he had noticed every single one of the movements she made, for instance, tapping her full bottom lip when she was thinking, or restlessly moving her leg up and down when working on her laptop, however, he had never served her or spoken to her.

He couldn't. He just couldn't.

His attitude was surprising for everybody that knew him, even for himself too. Jellal had never been the one to shy around women, on the contrary actually; he was pretty forward about what he wanted and what not, flirting being one his strongest assets - and sex of course, but let's be more appropriate, yes? - his bad-boy aura had all women swooning all over him. Besides, he had stand-out, natural dark blue hair, brown eyes and a daring tattoo on his face. He was working out too, if that was considered as an addition to his charm.

The redhead however was something else. Jellal couldn't bring himself to just... go for it. Maybe he was afraid of rejection. Or that he would turn her off with the lame-ass stuttering he was so sure he would be doing the moment he opened his mouth to talk to her. Who knew?

"Oi, Jellal," called an amused female voice from his left, startling him enough to make him jump, "You're droolin' all over the place you're supposed to clean!"

Jellal scowled darkly at his co-worker and best friend, Urtear. "Fuck you," he muttered and slammed the rag he was holding on the bar. Ur, the stupid bitch, busted out laughing at him, until she was wiping tears off her eyes.

"You're such a helpless case, Jellal Fernandes," she crooned and patted his shoulder in sympathy, "It pains me to watch, seriously."

"'M not, shuddup," he mumbled defiantly but deep inside of him he knew that she was right.

"Why don't ya go to serve her? Ask if she wants more tea. Yer the waiter after all," the tall woman suggested, tucking her long brown hair into a ponytail.

Jellal gave his friend a blank stare and stayed silent. Urtear knew exactly how he felt about this situation - he had shared all of his emotions during a night he had drunk his body weight in alcohol - yet still, she encouraged him to proceed. Females.

Urtear rolled her eyes at his childish reaction. "Jellal, honestly, I don't understand why you're doing this to yourself. She's not so fuckin' different from the other women you've-"

"Urtear," Jellal interrupted her curtly, efficiently silencing her with his tone, "It's not the right time."

The woman sighed dramatically and rubbed the bridge of her straight nose in frustration, before turning on her heel. "You're such a douche," she muttered before disappearing in the kitchen.

He was a douche. A cowardly douche most specifically. But that didn't change the fact that the redhead was out of reach for him.Was it because she was so beautiful? No, that wasn't it. Jellal had encountered beautiful women before.

What made her so unapproachable? She had that... That aura of superiority, that aura of you-better-not-fuck-with-me-or-else, which of course stung Jellal's male pride a little and made him hesitant. On one hand, was a confident motherfucker, that was for sure, but maybe he had found his Master.

Again; who knew?

The restaurant was relatively empty thus Jellal decided it was time to clean the tables around table 6. A pathetic excuse to simply go around his crush and be near her.

She didn't notice him when he came around. She didn't even raise her head to look at him. Although it hurt his innocent feelings just a tiny bit, Jellal knew that she was busy to care about her surroundings.

His dark brown eyes followed her every movement as she breathed, frowned, mumbled and hummed in front of her laptop, while he absently cleaned a random table. However, his breath was stolen away when her face broke into one of those rare, huge grins, her sweet voice sounding like music to his ears.

"Hiya!", she exclaimed enthusiastically, "Haven't seen you in donkey's years!"

Jellal blinked once, twice, allowing her words to sink in. What the hell did she mean by 'donkey's years'?

Apparently the person on the other end of the Internet call told her something funny because she chuckled. "I'm at a restaurant, douchebag," she playfully scolded, "And - no - I do not laze off. I work for the uni, you mindless twat."

Jellal was stunned, completely rooted on the spot as the epiphany hit him right in the middle of his forehead. He felt his blood rushing in two directions; his groin and face.

She was British.

"God, yes, Biology is a bloody mess after all."

And she had the sexy British accent too.

If there was something that turned Jellal on more than red hair and freckles, that had to be the English accent.

Damn. Could she get any more perfect? It was as if she was made for Jellal and only.

"I have three assignments due to next week and then I shall be at your disposal," she said and bowed politely in front of the computer before bursting into chuckles once more. "Good one, mate."

Jellal switched tables, going to one further away from her. He didn't want her suspecting anything. Even from afar though, he saw her eyebrows suddenly come together in an agitated scowl and she huffed angrily.

"Will it help if I tell you 'I told you so'?", she asked. The other person must have said something to upset her even more, because she rolled her eyes.

"Don't get shirty with me, Natsu," she growled, "I never liked that bloody hooker you were snogging with from day one so-." She paused as the other spoke but then she chuckled humorlessly, ominously. It was the first time Jellal had ever seen such intense emotion on her face.

"Yes, that's right, she's not a hooker, she's a slut," she hissed, "Natsu, you fuckwit..." The other must have interrupted her again because she scowled some more and opened her mouth multiple times to speak.

"Okay! Okay!", she huffed in the end, "We will meet on Friday and, yes, I'll let you get bladdered. Are you done now?" The other must have agreed because she bit a harsh, "Good."

The call didn't last very long after that, however, it left Jellal's obsession angry and frustrated. Oh, how much he wanted to go and console her, to ran his fingers through her endless red hair, but that was beyond his role as a mere waiter. Therefore, he continued with the initial task of getting the tables clean.

Until...

"Pardon me, sir?"

Jellal's head instantly snapped up at the sound of her voice and promptly froze on the spot.

She was looking straight at him.

Hell, she was even speaking to him!

Fuck, fuck, fuck! What now?!

After a few seconds of strenuous efforts to get his brain to function once more, Jellal restarted the ability to move his muscles and with a polite smile plastered on his face, he slowly approached her.

"How may I assist you?", he asked, surprised that his voice sounded relatively normal and not squeaking like a pig. The woman smiled at him, depleting all the air in his lungs, effortlessly frying his brain into a useless crisp.

"Would you be ever so kind to get me another cup of cinnamon tea, please?"

It took another round of awkwardly long seconds for her order to sink into Jellal's brain but managed to nod dumbly before he made a complete fool of himself.

"Coming right up."

He barely registered the quiet "Thank you" he received. His mind was working with miles per millisecond, his heartbeat reaching dangerous levels, his blood roaring in his ears. Fuck, he knew he was smiling like an idiot already, face redder than a tomato too.

Holy cow. I react like this just because she fucking spoke to me.

Shaking his head in disbelief and disappointment in himself, Jellal walked into the restaurant's main kitchen. Was that the appropriate reaction of an adult man hitting his twenty four years of age in two weeks?

"One cinnamon tea," he called to whoever was in there and heard to him. Somebody answered him, a vague voice from the back but of course, Jellal didn't notice anything. His mind was full of red hair and a sweet smile, a smile that melt all of his internal organs to a lame pudding.

Oh my God almighty. He was so fucking whipped.

XXXX

Thanks for reading,

Queen.