Chapter 16

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This chapter is mostly just I guess "bonding" between Gray and Acalia. 

Gray's P.O.V.

Acalia follows me out of the guild and we walk to my house.

"So, what do you want to eat?" I ask, stepping into the kitchen. The marble counter tops are perfect, just as I left them. The clean white stone reminds me of home, the fresh white blanket of snow every morning. 

"You can cook?" She asks surprised.

"Hey, I'm not just a pretty face." I say washing my hands in the marble sink. 

I hear her soft laugh from the living room. I can only see the back of her head from where I'm standing, but I can imagine the cute small smile that sits on her structured face when she laughs.

"What about some pesto chicken?" I ask, as she walks into the kitchen. 

"Sure, go ahead chef boy. I'm helping out. But for the record I've never had pesto chicken or cooked in my life." She says washing her hands under the sink. 

The normal tap water seems to glow when she touches it. 

Some dragon slayer shit right there. 

"You've never cooked?" I ask while taking the food processor out of the cupboard.

"When you're homeless and alone, you don't exactly get the luxury of making and eating whatever meal you want." She says, her voice laced with a twinge of sadness. 

I look around me. I never realized that. Even though my parents and teacher died and I had no one to go to, I still had some where to call home- Fairy Tail. They fed me there, and I did jobs, earning money and spending it. I bought this small cabin two years ago when I was seventeen. But Acalia didn't have a home to go to, someone to confide in and was alone. 

"When you went out on you're job, you got money so easily..." I tried asking. Erza told me she was the Sea Green Ranger, a mage that does it's job then leaves as soon as it gets it's money. 

"I'd find an abandoned house or a tall tree to sleep in, but in the morning my things are always gone." She rolling up her sleeves, an annoyed look flickers in her eyes. 

Shit. I'm getting too personal. 

"Well, we'll have to make your first pesto chicken good then." I say striping my shirt.

She looks at my bare chest then my abs and a faint blush sits on her cheeks. 

"Um... Aren't we going to cook?" She asks looking away. 

"Uh...Yeah sorry. I have a habit. It's not necessary at all, it's just... a habit." I ramble trying to explain my weirdness. 

She stares at me for a moment. 

"Okay." 

~~~

We sit at the small table, well dinning table, but not really a dinning- ah fuck it.

Anyways, we sit at the table for dinner. Therefore a dinning table. 

"Well, take your first bite of pesto chicken." I say placing the rounded plate of pesto chicken in front of her. 

I sit on the other end of the table, with my plate in front of me. 

She takes her dinning knife and twirls it around, her fork playing with the sauce. 

"Are you okay?" I ask, putting my fork and knife down. 

"Why do you do this for me?" She asks suddenly.

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