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Natsu’s love language was physical touch; Lucy knew that. She had known that from the moment he smiled that beautiful smile at her, grasping her hand tightly in her own and painting her dreams into reality with such simple words.
“You want to join Fairy Tail, don't you? Come on! Let’s go!”
His hand felt warm in her own she recalled. Heat radiated off of him. From that moment on, she felt like they were constantly touching. A side hug, grasping her hand as he led her towards the job board. At night, when he broke into her apartment, they always ended up snuggled together beneath the covers.
It had gone on so long it felt odd not to have him snuggled up in her bed, lifting the covers with a grin to invite her to lay down with him. His smile radiated warmth, his entire being did.
She loved the touches, the little acts of affection. He got bolder with them when they started dating, resting an arm around her waist when they were side by side. Leaning close enough that their shoulders touched as they walked, holding her hand, intertwining heir fingers ever so sweetly.
Falling in love with Natsu felt as natural as learning to breathe. She looked at him and her heart melted, something more glinting in her mind the moment they met. That goofy smile charmed her.
She didn’t grow up with much affection. She tried making food to get her father’s attention, but she never really got the chance to see any of it through to a positive outcome. He was always angry, always pushing her away. Always glaring at her like she was the embodiment of a reminder of her mother’s death.
After they started dating, she tried cooking again, and that sparked something inside her. There was some proud little thing that glowed inside her when Natsu and Happy scarfed down the food she made, glowing with praise and thanks. She liked making him happy, and Natsu adored food, so she researched recipes, tried new ones, and improved her skills so even when they went on missions, she could make something out of whatever they caught.
She would say gift giving was her love language, but Natsu’s existence made it physical affection. There was something about being near him, feeling him hugging her, feeling the warmth radiating off him, the safety in his arms.
There was nothing like it. She loved hugs from her friends, but it was never the same as hugging Natsu. It never felt as safe, as inviting as when he opened his arms with that glowing smile, offering a hug he knew she’d never refuse.
The love she had for him felt like molten lava, twisting in her stomach and warming every part of her, as every time, without fail, she rushed into his arms, wrapping hers around his waist and burying her face in his chest.
She felt like she was on cloud nine in his arms, weightless, loved.
It healed something deeply broken inside her. Something her father had carelessly shattered, Natsu mended softly, slowly, until the cracks and seams she’d taped together looked brand new. Until the places she thought she’d break apart were as strong as the rest of her, as strong as the love she felt for him.
They talked about everything. She knew who smelled good in fairy tail and who smelled weird. Laxus smelled like burnt popcorn with a hint of electric notes, whatever that meant. Lucy smelled like vanilla and strawberries, he said that was because she ate them so often and had that vanilla body wash she loved.
Scent was a character trait to Natsu she learned.
Natsu learned all about her book characters in what she was writing or reading at the moment. He learned she mirrored a character after him and that she wrote him like a lovesick puppy sometimes by accident. He learned her favorite genres were romance and mystery novels, sometimes both. She liked the thrill of figuring out who the murderer was before the reveal came; she also loved watching two characters get together by the end of a romance novel, after all the troubles they’d gone through to get there.
Lucy remembered all they talked about, she remembered how their hands always brushed as they chatted. She remembered how when Natsu pointed to people and told her what they smelled like, he was always holding her hand or had an arm resting on her waist with that characteristic smile of his.
She lived for it now, she didn’t hide that. She started to whine when she wanted to sleep and Natsu wasn’t in bed yet.
“Get over here and be my personal heater,” she would gripe, Natsu prancing over with a wide grin and slipping under the covers beside her, instantly wrapping her in his arms, letting off a bit of extra heat to warm her. Like a cat she would bask in the warmth, humming softly, almost like a purr as she enjoyed the contact.
Natsu would whine too, pouting when they ate out instead of getting to eat one of her home-cooked meals, making sure to buy the ingredients for their favorite dishes as a little extra encouragement, writing a note on the fridge that read
‘Pasta my love?’ she always caved with a wide smile. He was just too sweet.
She remembered when he was worried about her or she was hurt, he always was cradling her in his arms, heat radiating off him as her body was wracked with pain. His presence was always a hopeful one, always one that made her know everything would be okay. He let off extra warmth then, trying to heat her body back to health.
She remembered the way her heart sank as he looked at her in that fiery battlefield, his hand slipping from hers, his smile sad as he turned back to the horde of dragons they must face.
She remembered she felt cold without his touch after that. She remembered she’d never feel his touch again.
And yet now, she felt it again, his arms wrapped around her, warm wet tears dripping onto her face as he cried.
Ah, that was right, she was dying. She supposed this was what was supposed to happen. It would be a problem for her present self if the future version stuck around, wouldn’t it?
She closed her eyes like that, feeling the warmth of his arms.
When she opened her eyes, she was holding his hand again, feeling that radiating warmth. The golden grass glowed softly, the hillside alight with their friends in the distance.
“I missed you,” he uttered softly, squeezing her hand.
“I missed you too,” she replied just as quietly.