"Laxus, I would prefer if you did not aid your mother in the kitchen." I find myself blinking up at the form of my father, sitting rather leisurely on the couch, arms behind his head, eyes closed, and a frown firmly placed on his face. His voice is nasal to my ears and while it did not ring with an echo as my mothers, it almost vibrated with a sting. Myself, I sat on the soft cushions next to him, rather calm with his presence as he was beginning to drift off- I was playing with little blocks not doing much with them but matching each coloured one with each other. Now I had my gaze staring at him, waiting for a reason. "Real men don't work in the kitchen like that." Young as I was, I can't remember understanding what he meant, the concept didn't make sense to my innocent mind, and really there was nothing wrong with helping my mother right? I believe I just pouted up at him without a notice payed to me as I resumed to play with my toys.

He was softly snoring beside me when the door opened and my mother bent down through the doorway as always, a small smile on her face. Her hair was tied back in a ponytail, and she wore a red dress that reached her knees with cute little pockadots scattered about on the fabric. She gave me a tender smile as she set the plastic grocery bags on the table. "Hey sweetie, want to help mommy in the kitchen? We've got a nice dinner to make." she wasn't facing me as she spoke, and the bow at the back caught my attention far easier then staring at her hair. I felt myself pouting, even as I had been smiling at her return mere moments before.

"Daddy said I should not." My speech was still ripe with young age, I wanted to help in the kitchen, though I could not do much else but hand her ingredients. Her frame froze in place, her hands shaking as she held a large tomato. Before suddenly it burst, and clear juice splattered over the counter and down her arm, I stared at her as she shook slightly without a proper movement, she hissed loudly and the sound made my small body shutter, feeling uncomfortable I automatically shrank away. However, it was only a moment before I saw her tense entirely and then ease, turning to look over at me from her shoulder, a small smile on her face but I could see a twitch on her brow and her eyelids closed far too tight. But at the age I was, it seemed entirely irrelevant.

"Well, daddy is asleep, so lets keep it our little secret okay baby?" I grinned, and felt the soft carpet under my toes as I jumped down from the couch.

My mother directed me easily as we both integrated with our usual routine while cooking. However, in the joy of the moment I stumbled slightly, hitting my elbow on the counter and thus dropping the cucumber I held as I lost control of my arm for a moment. It was loud on the laminate and I heard my father snap to attention, waking with a snort and rising from the couch with a groan. Whence he looked to me helping my mother, his eyes hardened down and he glared at me with a minor frown formed on his lips. I bit at my lips I was very small and a little scared.

"Leave it be Ivan. He's allowed to help his mommy in the kitchen, theres nothing wrong with that." My mother made no move to look at her husband, still cutting into the meat I could not see over the counter. Completely calm as she maneuvered herself, my father did not seem as relaxed as he crossed his arms and sneered in response.

"Its a matter of masculinity dear." He emphasized his nickname, his voice with the bite of annoyance as he spoke. Mother stopped her task and turned to face him, I was looking at her, though I could not properly see her face- it was shadowed because of the lightbulb behind her head and her bright yellow hair nearly glowed because of it. She was glowering, staring down at my father, and I have no doubt her irises were glinting, hands fisted at her sides. Because of her size she loomed over my fathers figure; he was only a meager 5'7.

She was high above him, a heavy rasping breath making her chest slowly fall -too large,- near growling. "I said. Leave. It. Be." She took a step towards him, her one foot fall loud against the flooring. Appearing even taller above him at the close distance, proud and daunting at 7'3. I could barely see my father wince behind her stature, but I know he nodded, turned, and left the room.

Mother was always intimidating.

.o0o.

Chopping green onions while waiting, boiling potatoes in a pot nearby, letting only the thoughts of my impending dinner hold my focus, the soothing sight of my blade slicing through the vegetables. Dusk had already come and I was late with the meal after a day of attempting to figure out an issue with my grandfather, there was only a small amount of light in the room, and complete silence surrounding except for the soft bubbling of the pot. Luckily I did not jump at the sound of the doorbell ringing twice throught my apartment, a loud knock following quickly afterward, and a light scoff escaped my nose at the sound, I shook my head- I know the only person that could be, as I open the door. Looking down at a head of ruffled, night darkened, pink hair, his head being only at my pectorals when at reasonable distance, his eyes once again were glimmering with the moon and the smile on his face was radiant. Despite his brash announcement, he was shuffling about with nerves. The smirk curves easily into place.

"Whats the matter Natsu, nervous?" Immediately, as predictable, his soft mouth turns to a pout while his eyes narrow down ever so slightly. Yet, his body doesn't tense as normal, nor does he cross his arms in indignation.

His denial comes out as a mutterance instead of an outcry. "So what if I was you jerk?" I move myself to the side so he can actually enter, as usual he semi-stomps in, not actually slamming his feet on the hard floor, but attempting to appear as he is, more then likely to look tough. Regardless of his brash demeanour, I do feel my lip twitch upward. Humourously, my table stands partially above his chest, making him appear even smaller then he truly is, he glares at the fact- I roll my eyes. Nothing is actually ready on the stove, though the salads are ready in black ceramic bowls still on the counter, though to be certain Natsu is no conscious healthy eater, I have seen him eating the occasional semi-healthy protein bar, well, he will have to pull his panties up and eat something good for him now. Walking back to finish dinner I can see him sniffing the air trying to conceal his actions, I cannot say I know what he smells to make him relax his muscles- either the food I'm cooking or something abstract; its Natsu, knowing is a challenge. I focus myself on the red soup I'm stirring, thick and near finished.

"Your home is actually nice- big too." The sound of the chair being pulled in and out follows, just as I put the finished potatoes into seperate bowls. I choose not to answer, there is not much to say in response as it is- the only reason I have a large apartment is because I had actually bought the unit from the owner and it was actually mine- instead of renting. Not that it would matter if the guild board didn't get some good jobs- I certainly wouldn't be able to pay fees. Pouring the tomato soup over my cooking to finish dinner. He's hardly paying any attention, to busy glancing about with sparkling alert irises and the softened expression on his face which he only gains when not shouting all around the place or talking to someone. I manage to snap his gaze back to me however, as I place the bowl in front of him, I can't help but smirk at the tiny pout he makes for the sudden distraction- even with all his bolster, power, and aggressive demeanour; he is really fucking cute.

"That's because I actually save my money, you idiot." Instead of the common objection, I gain a blush, though he still holds a minor glare on his face as I sit down beside him, with elbows resting on the table staring at me, he almost looks inquisitive- and I do grant, maybe he is. To my surprise though he goes first to his salad rather then the starch in front of him, eating eagerly.

"I'm jealous of you." He speaks first, once again taking away the burden of the knot in my throat with his smoothened voice, no shame nor true contemplation in what he says- he just speaks his mind without a thought. "Your father is gone right?" I know he doesn't mean dead, because everyone within the guild is more then aware of my father's banishment, it had been an open topic, though the reason why was kept ardently behind sealed lips under a stern order of secrecy- and for those old enough to remember, to know, it remained a sickening memory. I don't bother answering, I raise my eyebrow because I can't see his direction, and I cannot understand why he would be jealous either- so was his father after all. "I mean, I know he's gone, but at least everyone believes and knows you have a dad." he speaks with no emotion, simply smiling near melancholy down at his food. It makes me pause, again, I don't understand his meaning, though I can scrap together the pieces to some logic which I refute.

"Are you saying the guild doesn't believe you Natsu?" Finishing he reaches for the other part of the meal, not truly facing me, the exact same expression on his face as I have stopped eating to stare at him. I'm bland in asking because its such a strange conclusion. Unlike with the salad he doesn't eat it immediately, pausing in his actions.

"They don't, not really, they think I'm either lying or confused. I know that. I understand it." Then he turns to face me with a smile, a fake smile, with closed eyelids and tears peeking through at the corners. It makes me think, turning away from his scintillating irises. As I have never looked closely to whether I believe his claim or not, my fork tightens in my hand, and I automatically take a bite- it tastes bland under the coil of my thoughts and pressure on my chest in my consideration. "Do you?" I heave as I look to him again, he's still smiling, something light in his expression, something that makes my chest still momentarily, because I know, I know for certain; that regardless of whatever answer I give, he will still love me- and that remains a revelation in itself because I can tell he does, and that knowledge burns warm in me. Yet in knowing that fact, my hand fists tighter around my utensil, I cannot lie to him. So there, the silence dances around us, neither of us are eating, just staring frozen in place and staring into each others eyes. I consider all of what I have seen in him when he's spoken of his father, their relationship, what tales he's told the guild which that would be impossible for humans to accomplish- the emotion and exuberance in which he's told them.

"Yes." I suppose I cannot be certain if I completely do, but mostly, yes, I know I do- because although it does not make complete sense in any way, some of what he has told doesn't fit normal humans either. On top of that, despite his idiotic front -and at this point I do think its a front, the idiotic part anyway,- Natsu is honest, and his emotions from what I can tell are so vast and bright, I cannot ignore the intensity he possesses on the matter, so doubting him simply seems stupid. He blinks at me, before once more I am granted the most radiant grin in all of Fiore, again, it burns into my heart, and something warm spreads over my cheeks at the very expression cast my way.

"Really?" Maybe it is my smile that stops me from properly speaking, the warmth coiling around in my chest, and the comfort making my heart feel like cotten balls are surrounding it. Even so, I know that my brows are furrowing already, a slight glare fermenting both in mind and deed, because it bothers me to acknowledge that he's been thinking no one believes him- and the irritation in knowing that he might feel abandoned therein.

"Yes." I do believe him, even if some of what he claims sounds odd to me; thats unimportant. Natsu is a loyal person, and he displays that well throughout all the friendships he holds within -and I imagine outside of the guild.- I can acknowledge my own actions, as it stands these days, being welcomed back home after the chaos I caused makes me both content and nervous. Even moreso in knowing that Natsu is sitting across from me as a date; rather then a begrudged guildmate glaring in disdain at my return. It makes my hand twitch and a scowl crest my face to understand that even during the Festival Natsu hadn't thought that I would actually kill the girls in their stone state, and he did not believe I would destroy the town with my Thunder Palace. With that knowledge weighing heavy on me for a long time now, I know that Natsu has trusted me, and seemingly still does. Its not something I deserve, his or anyones loyalty and trust at this point. Therein however, I believe him, because he's so faithful to everyone I find it very difficult to imagine he would lie about something so important. Its very sentimental to consider, to think.

"Thank you- Laxus-" Even while grinning wide, his eyes curved upwards and closed a lightened tone in his voice, he breaks himself off. There, he looks down to the table grin slanting down but certainly not gone. A blush dusting over his cheeks, though I can't tell what for, it gives me a smirk to see, perhaps it always will to see Natsu drawn out of his normal bolster and just be completely exposed in his expression. "I- I always thought-" he pauses yet again and with the atmosphere so much less strained I throw my arm over the back of the chair, far more comfortable. His lips twitch, before he throws his arms up in the air somewhat scowling, somewhat pouting. "Well! I just always thought you were nicer then, you know!-" Arms crossed over his lean muscled chest, cherry red blush -cute- obvious on his face while his irises flicker back and forth from me to the wood table- his finished bowls.

"I wasn't Natsu." Honesty is best here, even if the want to simply go along with his words stands obstructfully in front of my rationality. "I know who I was, and I cannot say I'm that changed either. I don't see the guild the same way no, but my opinions on other people haven't shifted away, my morality is more clear, but my ideals haven't really changed. Really Natsu, I'm just letting myself be a little more candid with myself on who I am, instead of throwing up a wall that I don't want to acknowledge or look over." I find myself staring away from him too, shrugging minorly because I don't really have a better way to describe how I see who I am. If he thinks that I have turned into some type of saint, or that I always have been a kind man, I don't want him to be deluded.

"I know you're a jerk." The soft voice broaches past my thoughts though, dancing as a little vibrancy against the way my thoughts had beginning to turn. I look at him, and I know I'm not smiling, scowling, or anything, I can't find it in myself to force an express in not understanding what he wants to say- after having expected one thing and getting another. "I knew then, it was pretty obvious- you were always a dick to everyone who didn't acknowledge you and to those who did. It annoyed me, a lot, and I just wanted to sock you because I knew you were doing it for a reason, but I couldn't understand why. It hurt me really, because I couldn't change it, because you were still my guildmate, I wanted to do something. But I knew that you were still kind, maybe hidden a lot, but it was still obvious to me." Farce, I know that Natsu is no profound genius, he does stupid things all the time and doesn't consider consequences well, but I know- because I've always seen him look into a person, and disect who they are. Even if he has only known them for a short time, he can see through any hole in the wall a person might have and comprehend whatever faults or assets they have. It isn't a farce, his manner, who he is around people, the smiles, the hardheadedness, the aggression, but he definitely doesn't show nor tell others just how comprehensive he is about other people.

I can only find it in myself to scoff at the understanding, its endearing- strange to think that it is attractive to know that he'd seen past me, if only slightly. Gratifying to know that even back then he had cared to glance closer, even if it hadn't been romantically or even platonically, it soothed a growing ball of disgust for myself congealing at the back of my mind. "So yes, I know you're still a jerk. I know you haven't changed who you are." Again he pauses yet again. "I- If you had, I probably wouldn't- I wouldn't have these feelings for you, because I- I lo- liked and like all of you, even when you can be an ass, you're a good one, and you were just hiding that fact for awhile." He isn't grinning, not quite smiling, his expression isn't blank either, soft- its soft. I don't understand him; how he can see me and see positives in who I am regardless of what I've done.

"Power." It what I end up saying, its not a thing I regret, though it is tearing at my throat to say, admittance in all its reluctance. "Power is comforting, so knowing that I was more powerful- or thinking that I was...was placating, at least with the growing bad memories I could- can never get rid of. Gramps tried to help me for awhile, but only until I was of age, then it was just expected I could solve it all- get everything, every memory, out of my head. Maybe forget, maybe get over it. As if as soon as I became a real man, then all weaknesses, all bad experiences were simply to be solved with age. So getting more powerful gave me the feeling that I was overcoming it all, that I could beat them back if they became intense." Looking to him isn't an option, the side of my fist is digging into the table and I know my eye is twitching as I stare to the hardwood, scowl firm set- because I don't like thinking about it. The words had clenched my chest, my neck, to speak; I had never told anyone my opinion on the matter, the reasoning.

"I don't think less of you." My hand uncoils, my eye stops twitching, but I don't look away from the differing colours in the shadows on the flooring. Its gentle at first, the tickling feeling of the tips of his fingers against my arm, shifting my shirt ever so slightly. Before he grasps onto my forearm, his hand not managing to go fully around the muscle because of our muscle difference. "I still-" I can hear him swallow, its so loud even with the heartbeat in my ears, his hand tightens. "I still love you." For a moment my breath lingers so speaking is impossible, but I can lift my gaze I can see him staring at me, a type of smile on his face that doesn't seem happy but apprehensive, uncertain. I'm surprised I'm not twitching away from his touch, that sweat isn't breaking over my brow, that my lungs are still working properly and I'm not hyperventilating, that I'm not scared. However, I do know why; his aura is so luminant, radiant, joyful around everyone, but I think I'm really the only one who allows it to affect me as it does. I am in love with such a bright person.

Its pure selfish desire, unprepared after two dates, that I run the hand that had been in a fist moments ago over his cheek, I can see its too large over his rather youthful cheeks and jaw -too familiar.- I pull him as gently as I can, slowly, to allow him time to understand, to withdraw. But he doesn't, as I put my lips to his. They're hot, as expected from such a man, they're soft and welcoming. His hand grasps to my bicep, and he pulls me a little further in slowly. We're slow, and neither of our eyes are closed fully.

Its a good date, even with the heavy topics spouted out in some type of dark impedance, even with my dreams still prickling at the back of my head. I have Natsu's lips on my own, and he doesn't fucking mind. I don't mind.