I wake to the sound of Happy munching on something wet. It's dark outside; staring up at my ceiling from my hammock, I can see that much. Beyond my window the wind blows and I imagine it's cool; winter has just left and now spring is trying to make an appearance.

"Remember what I said, Happy?"

Her voice is pearls resting against the bottom of the deepest ocean, dark, yet glimmering when a thread of light touches them. It's a sweet voice, one I know off by heart. Cracking my eye, I try to find her.

"It's cold outside, Lisanna," Happy whines.

Finally, I pick her out of my lifetime of collected debris. Her hair is silver like the moon, her eyes are dark like twin sapphire drops; her lips shine like mica, she's wet them.

"Here." Tiptoeing to my closet as she's done a million times, she pulls out a Happy-sized blanket and swaddles him like a baby, leaving out only his forepaws and his little pink nose.

"Natsu gets mad when I get fish on the blankets," Happy whispers.

"I won't tell him if you don't," Lisanna hushes back.

"How many times are you guys going to kick me out at night?" the cat complains. "I know you're in love, but—"

Lisanna, wearing a ghost of a smile, interjects; she's better at this than I am. "Until I'm sure Elfman won't beat him up."

"That will be never," Happy gripes.

"Sooner than I'd like." A sadness befalls her. I prop myself up on my elbow to get a better look at her, but the moon slips behind a cloud and hides everything but her silver hair from me.

"What does that mean?" Happy asks.

"Never mind, Happy. Go on now. I'll come find you when we're done."

Happy huffs and pushes open the door, muttering about babies and love and late night trysts and being bought out by fish. His constitution is even weaker than mine; to him, mackerel is as Lisanna is to me: undeniable.

She floats over—at least, that's how it appears—and brushes my hair back from my face. I pretend to be asleep until she gets to my lips, then I snag her wrist and kiss her there, just below her palm. She startles, her breath catching, then her face breaks into a happy smile.

"I didn't know you were awake."

"I thought you were supposed to be on that job with Elfman and Mira?"

A shadow crosses over her face at the mention of her siblings. "It got cut short," she explains.

"Did you talk to Mira about moving in here?" I prod.

Lisanna's lip warbles. "When I mentioned it, she said we were too young. I think she could've come around, though."

"Could've?"

She leans over the hammock and kisses me then. Her lips are dry and cold enough that my mouth burns with it. "Holy, how long have you been outside for?"

She shrugs and takes my hand. The skin there is cold as well.

"I'll warm you up," I say, and feel completely in my element; I can make Lisanna feel good in a lot of ways, but so can others. This… this is something only I can do. My only regret is my choice of bed. My hammock is comfortable, and it was cheap in a time when I didn't have a lot of money, but it's not exactly a chick-magnet, nor is it easy to get them in to. And do fun stuff in.

We settle for the couch. The floor is cold under my bare feet, but my burning skin warms it in no time. I flop back on the cushions, adjusting my shorts down around my legs, and spread my arms wide in invitation. Lisanna shucks off her coat and curls into me. She fits so perfectly in the hollow of my throat. Her skin is frigid and yet she doesn't shiver. We stay like that, me so hot that I'm afraid for my couch, Lisanna still cold. The only thing that seems to bring life to her is when I kiss the tip of her nose, and then find her mouth.

"I'm glad you're home early," I tell her and she smiles; it sneaks out and rests on her warbling mouth. She's trying not to cry. A stone drops in my stomach. "What is it?"

She shakes her head. "Just kiss me, Natsu."

I obey because for Lisanna, I feel like a slave. Finding her mouth, I kiss her more thoroughly than I ever have because while I can't explain it, there's a heavy weight on my chest, a weight that tells me if I don't do this now, it's going to slip right on through my fingers. I kiss her until she croons, I kiss her until her hands are on my body, colder than icy rain. That's okay; I won't ever push her away. Her hips start to rock; she breaks the kiss so she can begin unbuttoning her dress. It's the kind that has oversized black buttons sewn every couple of inches. It's long sleeved and blue and fitting, clinging to her waist, clinging to her legs. She gets the first few buttons undone and my heart beats hard. By the time she's at her navel, I'm sweating. This isn't the first time we've done this, but hell… every time I still get that brand new feeling. Seeing her body naked and kissed by moonlight will always be one of my favorite things.

She moves and its ethereal, her short hair brushing her chin softly while she leans in and finds my mouth again. I tuck the spidery threads back behind her ears and help her tug her dress away. Underneath, she's wearing my favorite kind of nothing. This rendezvous was well planned. Seeing her soft and perky breasts with nothing covering them sends a shock through my body, one that has me so hard, I can barely think.

Thankfully, Lisanna still remembers what to do. The last button of her dress pops open and I can and do throw the material to the ground. Her skin is absolutely uninterrupted. With shaky fingers, I touch her, this creature made of moonlight and snow, and endeavor to make her feel good, to make her shake and gasp. I play with her breasts first, because that's how she likes it, plucking and teasing, making her sigh. She's always beautiful, but when she's like this, pink cheeked and bright eyed, nibbling her lip gently for me, no one—absolutely no one—can compare.

I venture between her legs and find the swollen nub that makes her sob and carefully, methodically, swirl my thumb. This I've mastered—I want it to be perfect for her every time. I don't just want to do it well; I want to do it amazing. Not to be cocky or anything, but I'm pretty damn good. I know Lisanna's body better than she does and in just a few short minutes, she's a wracking, sobbing mess, her fingers in my hair, her lips on mine. And then she's pulling at my shorts. She doesn't even wait for me to lift my hips to get them down, she just pulls me out so it's good enough and positions herself overtop of me.

I grab her by the hips; her skin is snow; her hair is moonlight; and bow into her. Now she's hot, so hot, in fact, that even my skin is uncomfortable. I turn down my own heat, but Lisanna… she's a force to be reckoned with when she's in one of these moods. Usually I lead, but not tonight, and I'm happy to relinquish the control, it gives me the opportunity to appreciate all of the little things that I can't normally when I'm nestled between her legs, trying to be quick—because it's shitty for Happy that we kick him out—and trying to be good. I get so focused on those two things, I forget to appreciate all of her little intricacies, all of the things that I've become familiar with over the years. The hourglass swell of her body, the plumpness of her bottom lip when she catches and squishes it between her perfectly white and perfectly straight teeth, the pleasing bounce of her full breasts, the intoxicating gush of hectic breaths when she tries really hard and is just about to come. Even the little scar on her left shoulder where she'd been cut by a branch when we were kids has a special place. All of the things that make her… her.

I can't look away from her, even when she finds my mouth and moans against my tongue. She's so close. Her getting close pushes me to the edge. She knows; it's like our bodies are perfectly in tune. She squeezes my shoulders, nails biting in, and I whisper her name; it comes out all wrong, gravelly and hoarse, pinched. She loves it.

Her head and shoulders roll back, her hands find my knees, and she all but screams. Her body is shivering and squeezing me tight. I can't hold on anymore. I come inside of her like I said I wasn't going to, not until we're ready. I expect her to reprimand me, but she doesn't seem to care.

For a long time, we just sit there, her leaning her cheek against my chest, listening to my heart pound like I did much of anything to help, me brushing my hands over her moonlight-kissed hair, dreaming of all the days we'd do this and we wouldn't be sneaking. For now, Lisanna is afraid of getting accosted by her brother and sister. I'm always ready to fight though, and nothing seems more worthy.

"I want to tell Mira," I say.

Lisanna knows what I mean. She lays a kiss against my chest. "Wait until she finds you, okay?"

"What?"

She lifts her head. "I have to go, Natsu." The sadness is back in her eyes.

My heart skips another beat seeing her like that. "Tell me what's wrong, Lisanna, please."

She cradles my face and finds my mouth again; her lips are colder than winter. "I'm a greedy girl, always taking more than you offer." She finds her dress and slips into it while I ponder what she means.

"I love you," I say suddenly and don't understand why I've said it, though I do know that what I say is true.

"Oh... Natsu." This only makes her sadder and I wish I could take back the words, if she'd just smile again. But it doesn't work that way. I wait for her to say it back.

And wait.

She only does up her buttons, in a rush now.

"Lisanna…"

"I can't stay," she says again. "I'll… I'll find Happy and tell him he can come home."

I want to tell her to stop rushing, but there's an urgency to her I can't ignore; something is happening. "Lisanna."

She stops and looks at me.

"Is everything alright?"

"It will be," she says cryptically. "Believe me. It will be." She stoops and kisses me again, not just a peck, but a thorough thing that leaves me reeling and scrabbling to pull her back to my lap—that's the kind of hold Lisanna has on me. I just forget she didn't tell me she loved me back when she slips out of my grasp, a ghost in the fog, and goes to the door where she tugs on her tall leather boots.

"Can't you stay here tonight? We can talk to Mira tomorrow, together," I tell her in one final effort to keep her here with me.

With her coat over her shoulders, Lisanna rushes back to my side again; there is an agitation to her that I don't understand. One that works over my skin and makes me want to protect her. Her mouth finds mine, a kiss dripping with desperation. Then she's gone.

"Forgive him, Natsu," are the last words she says before she slips out of the door. It clicks behind her rather silently. I fix my shorts, then sort of my hair, and try to find some pants. Lisanna is acting weird and it's giving me a serious rash.

Then the door opens again and Happy totters through, a dazed and mystified and scared look on his face.

"Natsu…"

Why is everyone saying my name like that? "What is it?"

"Mira and Elfman just got into town."

It doesn't make sense to me, standing over her grave. They said there wasn't anything to bring back, but the girl I saw in my bedroom that night… she was real. She haunts me still. In my dreams. I wish she'd come back. Those last words make sense now.

Forgive him.

Forgive Elfman for killing her.

I wish my eyes are wet when I think about how I'll see Lisanna nevermore.

All my rage is used up, so I'm a hollow mess.