Tempest. // gruvia au

5

Gray

The sound of each drop of rain on the ancient tin roof faded into the distance as Gray was lulled to sleep.

Sleep forced his mind to rest, and a state of lucidness made all his earthly worries blow away in the wind.

At least when he woke up to leave Makarov's little joint to join Ur and Lyon in the village, it wouldn't be to the rude sunlight penetrating his eyelids. No, Gray enjoyed dawn much more.

Dawn was when the stars were drunk from twirling, twinkling and dancing across the sky all night.

When the stars were too drunk being lamps in a morning lit sky to tell Gray to stop dreaming. That was what the sun, quite rudely did every morning.

Yes, Gray appreciated dawn, even though he spent it sleeping. The morning sun was too intrusive and rude to be amiable.

Gray had spent the late hours of the night after talking with Juvia and Makarov over tea trying to fall asleep. He tossed around in his tundra of blankets. They usually would seem like a cozy and welcoming cave, full of warmth from his body. But tonight, despite Winter's early frosts, it was irritatingly hot.

Maybe what kept him up was thinking of the blue-no, azure haired beauty curled up in her own warmth like a centipede. Or, more like if be was going to decide to take this woman with him to travel with Ur and Lyon around the region with them.

Gray logically didn't want to admit that Juvia was the Ocean Goddess Juvia she said she was. He didn't even believe in these celestial beings every one seemed to pray to. However, he couldn't shake a few things off his mind, like the amethyst necklace he could have sworn he saw her wearing for a split second.

Also, if blue was a natural hair colour, he certainly hadn't seen or heard of it before throughout his travels.

Not to mention she knew Gray's name before he introduced himself...?

Lying in the attic, squished between his cave of Makarov's musky old blankets and a body warmed floor, his thoughts began to flood through as he had nothing to listen to except the steady breaths of Makarov and Juvia sleeping on the floor nearby. They had all camped out in the attic, since it was the warmest point in the house and the cold chill of early winter had started to invade the house.

Gray wondered how the man survived the cold in the dead of winter.

Regardless, it was cold at the moment. In his restlessness, he began counting the cracks on the ceiling, and then pictured the veins running down his arm as painted lines of a map. The solace of the dark did not allow him to actually see his arms, though he could trace with gentle sweeps of fingertips where he thought they were.

Sleep was not taking him a prisoner tonight.

Without warning, an excruciatingly bright light flashed through the attic room, a painfull white blaring all the way to the back of his skull.

Lightning?

Gray bolted up into a sitting position, bracing himself for another flash. The brightness burned his eyes, and felt like it was probing his mind. These damn storms had been raging almost every night, and Gray just wanted to wake up to some sunshine.

Rubbing his eyes and casting a glance over his shoulder, he saw Makarov and Gray's limp bodies in their sleeping bags, chests rising and falling dramatically with every breathe. If they didn't react to the bright burst of lightning, they must really be asleep.