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English
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Published:
2014-08-22
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732
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1/1
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Touch

Summary:

It still struck him as odd, this way that they comforted each other. Years ago he wouldn’t have known how to touch someone in such a way that skin alone brought healing, but now it was all either of them needed.

Work Text:

Touch

 

His skin was smooth underneath her palm. Gently her thumb traced along the top of his cheek and back again and he leaned into her touch, letting out a low sigh, so quiet she could barely hear it. As cool tears leaked between her fingers and his skin she bit her lip. They couldn’t have two of them crying.

 

“I’m fine, Juvia.” His voice was rusty from disuse and his arm tightened around her waist, pulling her closer into him. Sat across his knees there wasn’t much distance between them as it was, but as always he managed to close some kind of gap. She sat up a little straighter, her right hand moving from his hair to his neck, smoothing over the skin there too, as if by her touch she could fix him.

 

Going to speak, Juvia stuttered slightly, catching herself and rectifying her language. “I’m worried about you.” She confessed. Tilting her head down a little she looked into his eyes, or tried to, he wouldn’t meet hers, and moved her hand up again, cradling both cheeks in her palms.

 

“You always are.” Gray murmured, finally meeting her eyes. Before he could look away Juvia leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, still wiping away at his tears. He couldn’t escape her eyes now, he never could. She didn’t realise it of course, she was just that sort of person, but it was true.

 

Juvia ignored his words. For a while in silence they sat there, tears falling and disappearing almost instantly, before Gray broke the peace. She didn’t mind; it meant progress, after all.

 

Instead of speaking he took her wrist and pressed a kiss there, turning his face so they were no longer touching. His lips lingered on her skin, her other hand running through his hair as she waited for him to compose himself.

 

“It was just a nightmare.” He told her, leaning back into the chair. Four hands fell into their laps, fingers half tangled, hers graceful and his weatherbeaten, though nonetheless beautiful.

 

“Mm.” Juvia looked away, somewhere down and right, an odd expression falling upon her countenance. Gray frowned a little.

 

“What’s wrong?” It was his turn to comfort her now, one hand sliding into her hair, cupping the side and back of her head. It still struck him as odd, this way that they comforted each other. Years ago he wouldn’t have known how to touch someone in such a way that skin alone brought healing, but now it was all either of them needed.

 

“Juvia feels guilty.” Honesty. After so many misguided attempts to protect the other through deceit, they had decided that above all they would have honesty in their relationship; no matter the cost. Often the emotional vulnerability of the situation caused Juvia to revert back to her old way of speaking and Gray to quieten, but they were working on it. “She wishes she could protect...you...from these bad dreams. She doesn’t want Gray-sama to be sad.”

 

After a moment Gray softened. He should have expected something like this what with it being Juvia, silly, selfless, beautiful Juvia, but somehow it took him by surprise every time. That was something she always chastised him for; expecting less than he deserved, particularly when it came to her.

 

“I’m not sad anymore.” Juvia looked up, the surprise in her taken over by gratitude and pure, unadulterated love, and the knot in her stomach lessened as she saw the beautiful, tender curve of his lips. She smiled, his ever cool fingers caressing her skin.

 

“I’m glad.” Leaning down again she wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling into his cheek with a contented sigh. He gave a soft chuckle and slipped his arms underneath her legs, standing with relative ease and finding some amusement in that she was no longer surprised, instead simply holding on tighter and pressing what he knew was a sleepy kiss to his cheek.

 

“Bed?”

 

“Mm.”

 

How it always ended like this she wasn’t entirely sure. She just knew that if she woke up and the bed was cold on the left hand side Gray would be sat in the tall leather armchair by a fire that they never lit. Sometimes it took hours, sometimes only minutes, but she would pull him in and they would go back to bed and he would sleep, finally peaceful.