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For once, Magna might've thought he had the upper hand. That is, until Luck proves him sorely wrong, as per usual.
"Giving up isn't a bad thing"
You always laugh while saying that
Luck has his hands clasped around Magna's wrists in a vice grip, caging him in with his legs on either side of his torso. Their chests are rising and falling, cheeks flushed and dirt staining their clothes from the fighting. Later, they'll toss their dirty clothes for Asta to deal with and race to the baths--it hadn't started out as a routine, but developed into one over the years of their friendship. They'll go on missions from time-to-time as the special assault duo, sometimes causing more destruction than actually completing the assignment, but it's difficult for Magna to focus when there's always an annoying blonde brat accompanying him.
But he'd be damned if he ever lost that.
He doesn't necessarily understand why Luck insists on bothering him, and him only. There’s a very thin line between best friends and borderline enemies. He hopes with all that he is composed of that it isn't the latter, but labelling their friendship is hard, and it only gets more difficult when Luck throws him into another fight or clings onto him throughout cold nights. Luck will take him by the hand and lead him spiraling down into whether or not they’re enemies, friends, or even more than that.
Luck’s smile begins to grow a bit more manic as he catches his breath, hands still gripping Magna’s wrists. Magna figures he's probably making a stupid face or his hair looks funny, judging by how his eyes seem to wander, though, never away from him. Luck's hair is sticking to his forehead slick with sweat and sprawled out over his eyes, so maybe he can't quite tell.
He's gotten so familiar with Luck's bright blue eyes; they're mischievous, predatory. Beautiful, he dare say.
You can reach if you stretch out
The threads up till now can't be wasted
Luck's hands can’t stay complacent, similar to his wandering gaze, beginning to toy with any stray strands of hair he can pick from Magna’s face or the fabric of his jacket that has been left in tatters. He knows better than to shy away from the touch, though, because Luck will simply ignore his cursing and bait him into another fight.
What he notices is that Luck’s hands are soft and untainted despite handling such devastating lighting, lightning that'll clad his lithe frame and hit Magna with deadly force. But he's known that since the day he first took Luck's hand in his and received a shock of his magic in response, so it's nothing new, really. Another thing he notices is that the blonde has locked his gaze onto Magna's--a gaze of curiosity and interest that's been solely reserved for him, for reasons he doesn't know. When he receives this look, words don't come so easily. He can't remember how to speak, or even breathe.
I've regretted many times
I've walked many times
Every time I was pushed away
"I win! Again!" Luck’s smile is beaming. It's a little blinding, brighter than anything he's ever seen, even as the sun beats down on them.
"I'm gonna burn yer ass to the ground, you moron. Just you wait.”
Magna doesn't know when he'd started to make hollow threats. He knows he's weak. He knows he'll likely never outdo, or even match Luck's strength, as much as he hopes to. Luck will probably be off to train with the best of the best by tomorrow, leaving him in the dust and without a real chance of ever catching up. He's not the person that will satisfy Luck. He'll never sate his desire for a strong opponent.
Luck is fleeting, just barely within grasp, yet set in his ways; he'll be annoyingly persistent for as far as Magna can tell. He'll never stop stealing his pudding. He'll never stop asking for a fight. He'll never leave him alone, but that's precisely what he doesn't want to lose. Magna thinks he must be crazy, but he's grown to love every second he has with Luck.
He's in love with his best friend, but he'd be damned if he would ever say it to his face.
He doesn't understand why Luck sticks around. Surely he'll get tired of him at some point, so he supposes it's better to deal with the issue now rather than later and only hold him back.
"Luck,"
"Hm?"
Let's journey to a world with no correct answer
You don't have to be afraid of change
"Don’t you want someone… better than me? I’m not the strongest, I’m- I’m not the person you deserve. Yer gonna be off
Luck looks at him, the same look he gives when he's said something stupid, the same look that's followed by a shock of lighting and a plethora of insults. The slight pout that's settled on his lips and the furrow of his brow, a look that he's quite familiar with.
Luck isn't so great at comforting people, but maybe that's what he's relying on. Even if Magna had poured out his heart and soul, all Luck would follow up with is a spar and call him a few names, and things would all go back to the way it was. Truthfully, he wasn't expecting much.
Toward an everyday life without any correct answers
There, I'm sure we won't be alone
" Magna , are you stupid or something?" Luck says rather earnestly. More serious than he's really ever said anything . For all he knows, Luck could call him a million variations of stupid and move on with his life.
But before Magna can object, Luck continues, “I stick around you because you’re the most fun, most interesting person I know. I… I wouldn’t get bored of you. I want to stick around. I want you to stick around. You’re… my best friend. And my first, too.”
He says it with such conviction that Magna finds it hard to doubt. He swallows hard; it was not something he’d been expecting, but something he knew he wanted to hear.
A real man should heed their friends’ words, right?
However, Magna isn’t sure how to respond, words caught in his throat as if boiling over but never spilling. All he can think of is three words, three words that would change everything. But Luck will sure as hell make him work to get the answer he’s looking for. Magna cannot muster the words “I love you,” as much as he wants Luck to know with all his being. But he's not entirely sure if those three words will suffice. It's impossible to ask him to condense all that he feels for his best friend into just a couple of words, but he'll never hear the end of the teasing if he recites some sappy love confession.
Only adding to his inner turmoil, he can’t interpret Luck's expression now. His smile is warm, warm as if he was pouring out the sun for Magna alone. There's a slight flush on his cheeks, though barely noticeable. And the pools of blue in his eyes--he could easily get lost in them with the faint glimmer of affection he sees, if his sight isn't deceiving him and that yes, this is all real.
Luck seems to relax, slumping against Magna's chest and wrapping his arms around his torso. He can hear the panting breaths coming from the blonde; it seems he's still trying to catch his breath from the fight before. Or, maybe, something different this one time. Maybe he’ll muster the courage to tell his best friend one of these days.
I'm sure this heart is screaming
If I'm here, I'm not alone
Sometimes, the unsaid words speak the loudest. When it comes to Luck, all actions and stolen glances speak for him.