request by anon: you have a tattoo of what your soulmate is most passionate about. prompt from here.
title: A Heart Half Open
words: ~1600
rating T for language
pairings: nalu & gajevy
“I don’t even know what this means still,” Lucy complained, prodding at her shoulder where a strangely shaped red marking stood. “Do you think we should ask someone else?” The last person she asked about the tattoo had laughed themselves silly when she told them it randomly appeared one morning, but Lucy was fast running out of ideas.
She couldn’t quite figure out what it was, not even when Levy had snapped a myriad of pictures for them to research. It had led to a whole lot of zilch. Notta. Error. In other words, every book they picked up mentioned nothing about random tattoos appearing in the middle of the night except for two. One thought it was an elaborate prank by a friend and the other suggested something absurd. Something that still made Lucy scoff days later.
Magic existing was as likely as poisoned water causing it or, or, or the Heartfilia’s somehow losing all their collective money. It was ridiculous, inconceivable -- impossible -- to even consider her new tattoo to have magical beginnings.
Levy didn’t respond, fiddling with the water bottle in her hand. Lucy fixed the strap of her shirt lest she flash a passing stranger on accident. That would only improve of her father’s mood, which had been irritable ever since he found the tattoo. He certainly hadn’t thought it was magic and even though she was twenty-one, she still cowered before her father’s disapproval.
“Levy?” She prodded after a few minutes of silence. Levy’s soft face was unusually solemn and contemplative; it was almost unheard of to see her bookish friend ignore a challenging research subject. The moment Lucy hesitantly told Levy what happened, she had tied up her blue hair and traded her plaid pajamas for jean shorts, demanding Lucy to recap her entire day as they hurried to the library. As their days of research came up more and more empty, Levy’s excitement had only increased to outrageous levels, but Lucy wondered if the lack of answers had finally dried Levy’s well. “Are you okay?”
“Lu, do you think there’s such thing as magic?”
“Pah,’ Lucy said, nose wrinkling. She smiled in thanks when Levy handed her a water bottle from the depths of her backpack, though she didn’t drink it. “If there was magic, someone would have found evidence of it. No, I don’t mean eye-witness accounts, we both know those can be biased very easily, but I mean cold, hard facts.” She smacked her hand into her palm for emphasis, but regretted it as a sting ran up her palm and to her elbow. They had just left the library after a grueling ten hour research session and her arms were sore from scouring book after book. Levy, used to devouring eight books a day, didn’t flinch.
“Your tattoo isn’t?” She asked, her arms crossed, tugging her elbow-sleeved shirt tight across her shoulders where Lucy could just barely make out the edge of a bandage. Levy dropped her arms a second later to allow an impatient gentleman to pass them on the sidewalk and Lucy forgot all about it as they struggled to escape the flow of people escaping the train.
Once a safe distance away, they slowed and stopped in the shadow of a book store. Lucy bit her tongue to keep from groaning as Levy came to a stop, hurriedly adding before Levy requested going inside. “No, one is coincidence --”
“But two might be true,” Levy interrupted, shifting on her feet. Her eyes darted around, waiting to see if someone might be listening or watching, and then put her back to the crowd.
Lucy narrowed her eyes, scanning Levy’s face for an answer to her friend’s strange behavior. Like all her attempts at research, she found nothing concrete. For all she knew, it could be Levy adapting to an unexpected shark week or the stress of school classes in the coming month. “We don’t exactly have two of these to study. Not unless someone else has one to match... for... me.” Her words slowed, mouth falling open as Levy tugged on her shirt, lifting her arm out of one side and shoving the top up. A yellow tank top shielded her from the world, but Lucy focused on a white bandage on her shoulder. “Levy, did you get a tattoo or something?”
“Or something,” Levy replied in a mutter, so low that Lucy didn’t think her friend had expected her to hear. She took a moment to unwind the bandage and Lucy stepped forward to shield her from anyone’s view, but quickly lost sight of her goal as a screw came into view. It was about two inches long in varying shades of grey, a stark contrast to the bright colors of her wardrobe.
“What the... Why do you have a screw on your shoulder?”
“Why do you have a splotch on your shoulder?”
“It’s a fairy,” Lucy argued, pouting. Where Levy’s had depth and shadows, Lucy’s could be described best as a paint splatter; if there was a shape to it, she wasn’t sure what it was yet. The only thing that possessed any depth was the cord of fire that jutted from one of the thinner, line-like splotches. Like a fairy dancing in fire. “And I don’t know it just-- Oh, no. Oh, no, Levy!” She grabbed Levy’s wrist, leaning closer to her. “Did it just appear for you too?”
“I found it a few days ago,” Levy admitted, fixing her top. Lucy had a sudden revelation about Levy’s unstoppable studying after weeks of confusion. It had little to do with Lucy’s own tattoo or a breakthrough on their part, but the arrival of Levy’s own weirdness.
“Like magic?” Lucy whispered, fingers digging into Levy’s skin.
“Like magic.”
“Well, shit.”
Lucy unscrewed her water bottle and -- to the befuddlement of Levy -- dumped it into a nearby planter bush.
And -- to both their astonishment -- a pink-haired figure yelped midstride and yanked the near empty bottle from her hand, dumping the remaining water onto his flaming sleeve. The water doused the small fire, a black singe and the flabbergasted look on all three of their faces the only evidence that it existed.
His face twisted into a snarl and he whirled around. Levy and Lucy took a large step back, grasping hands. The look on his face was almost feral, but when his voice came out, it was more akin to a whine. “What did you do to my lighter, huh?” He demanded of a long black-haired man who had approached in those brief seconds of Lucy’s inattention.
“Nothing. You’re just an idiot,” he deadpanned in response, a smirk curling on his lips. The words were cold, but his eyes were alight with excitement that the pink-haired man echoed.
“WHAT?” The pink-haired man sprang into action, leaping at his friend, and in the sudden blur of fists, Lucy spotted a pink splotch on his hand. A splotch with something like a quill resting beneath it. Like a fairy holding a pen.
She squeezed Levy’s hand so hard that there was an audible creak from her fingers. Levy squeaked, wiggling her fingers. “Lucy,” she whispered, taking a large step away from the brawling boys. “Let’s just go...”
The pink haired man stiffened, his fingers clutched tight around the collar of his friend’s shirt. The shirt rode up and Lucy spotted the edge of a tattoo with a sharp blue edge and a script that Lucy couldn’t translate.
She shook her head. “Levy, he’s...” She didn’t finish because both men dropped the other like they were burnt, eyes wide with shock.
“Natsu--”
“Gajeel--”
Lucy flinched at the sudden flash of knowledge, not in words, but in feelings. The type that crashed over in slow moving waves, washing over her, a roar in her ears consisting of his name. She blinked rapidly, her lips parting till the feeling disippated as quickly as it arrived and she knew, without needing to say it, that their tattoos matched just enough to matter.
She let out a shallow breath and broke into a disbelieving smile. “So, pink hair huh? Is that why your tattoo is pink too?”
Natsu snorted. ‘It’s salmon. -- and only if yours is yellow.”
“It’s red, I’m afraid.”
He grinned -- and she would be a liar if she said that it didn’t make her want to smile as well. “Red’s my favorite color.”
“And pink’s mine.”
And before they could say more -- though what they would stay remained a mystery to Lucy to this day -- they heard Levy began to chortle. A great big laugh that brought tears to Levy’s eyes and a frown to the other man’s face as he studied her with such an intesnity that it wouldn’t surprise any of them if she suddenly combusted.
“What are you laughing about?” Lucy asked, a warmth filling her cheeks as she broke eye contact with Natsu.
“I have an unexplainable screw tattoo on my shoulder now.”
“At least ya don’t have a damn book with words you can’t even read,” the man -- Gajeel, Lucy remembered -- grunted.
Without any qualms of where they were, Levy tugged the bottom of his shirt up to stare at the tattoo on his stomach. Like Lucy suspected, it was a blue book, upright with a peek of white pages, and words that Lucy didn’t understand. Levy did, a wide grin spreading across her face.
“Well?”
“I don’t know what it says,” she said cheerfully. “So I guess it means we’re going to have to find out. To the library!”
“Oh, no. Not again.”
With glee, Levy dragged the reluctant trio towards the library, whose tiled roof was visible down the street still. Lucy laughed as Natsu’s fingers caught hers, pulling her along in a race with Gajeel, and mentally considered a trip to the library well-worth it if it meant it would be with new friends.
