Melting Gray [Gratsu]

33

Chapter Thirty-Three

☆ Natsu Dragneel ☆

A/N: THERE IS SO MUCH FLUFF I WANT TO DIE

My bare feet padded loudly against the carpet of my new bedroom as I paced back and forth the next evening. Frustrated, I turned back to my wide-open closet, glaring at the pile of clothes. Just twenty-four hours ago my clothes were perfectly hung up on hangers, now practically everything was on the floor after I pulled it off in a raging frenzy.

"Why can't I find anything to wear?!" I shouted at myself, deciding to dig through the mess again and maybe somehow scrunge up a decent outfit for my date with Gray.

"Itoko-chan, what's with all the racket?" I heard my cousin, Wendy, say irritably from the top of the stairs. I had no bedroom door, so the moment you went up the steps you were in my room - which, I soon realized, was not the most private place. "Your room is a mess," She deadpanned, sounding slightly amused.

I rolled my eyes. "Yes, thank you for that stellar observation."

"What are you doing?"

"Trying to find an outfit for my date tonight. It's in less than an hour and I'm panicking."

"Nah, really? If you asked me," Wendy flicked her traffic blue braid over her shoulder, "I'd say you were totally calm."

"Can you help me?" I begged her. "You know fashion, right? What do I wear on a first date?"

"Well," Wendy thought as she moved closer to the pile of clothes, "You've already been dating Gray, for like, almost two months, right?" She confirmed.

"Yeah, but this is the first proper date we've actually been on. He's been sort of busy with his surgery and all the treatment and rest that came afterwards," I explained. "And before that, well- I had dinner with his parents when I stayed over there that one time, but that's it."

"Sounds like your relationship's order of events is totally out of whack," Wendy snorted.

"We're going on a date now though, happy?" I told her. "Better late than never."

"If you say so..." Wendy turned her attention to the clothes, muttering to herself. I watched her every like a hawk as she picked through the articles of clothing. "I've never been on a date myself, do guys really care about their appearance this much? Guess so... um, how about this?" She lifted up a white dress shirt.

"I'm going on a date, not to Bible Study," I glared at the shirt in her hands.

"Not by itself, dummy, it's too cold for that," She shook her head like I was some kind of idiot - in her eyes, I guess I kind of was - and grabbed something else. It was a forest-green sweater, a basic one that wasn't too flashy but not boring either. "Wear this over it."

"Okay, this looks alright..." I nodded in approval. "But what about the bottoms?"

"Takes one to know one."

"Oh my God, Wendy, shut up!" I shoved her into the pile of clothes. She was laughing hysterically at her own joke, the cries of hysteria being muffled by the clothing. "How about khakis?"

Wendy shot up from her face-plant into the mess to give me an astonished look. "You're kidding right? Khakis?"

I blushed harder. "What's wrong with that?"

"Nothing, if you want to be some rumpled, business-casual, un-sexy loser!" Wendy gasped. "God, don't you read Match.com?"

"You're passing me advice from an Internet source?" I narrowed my eyes, but brushed her semi-hurtful remark off. "Fine, whatever. What does your Match.com," I practically hissed the word out, "Say for pants?"