Chapter Eight: Uncontrollable

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When she arrived at the Guild Hall, it was the normal bustle of members staggering about and drinking. When they noticed her outfit-a man's outfit- several whispers farted in her general direction. Once up at the bar, she bugs her work and Kinana looks at her concerned.

"Wardrobe change up?" Her sweet eyes look Mira over and Canna decides she'd like to know the details as well.

"Did you finally get some?" Her beer breath intrudes on Mirajane's air and she wafts it away.

"No- to both questions. I borrowed these from..."

"Your mysterious lover you hide away in your basement?" Cana laughs, but the joke falls on deaf ears.

"That's not funny Cana." Her voice is sharp and the Guild hushes so they can hear the fight.

"I...uh...you know, I meant nothing by it. I was trying to be funny." The brown haired beauty waves her hand from side to side- claiming it was no big deal, but Mira doesn't find it humorous.

"Some people actually live their lives away as prisoners to people they think love them. You need to watch what you say, Cana." The sharp snap turns the Guild sour and Makarov makes his appearance before something bad happens.

"Run along Cana. I believe Laxus is looking for you."

"I...I...I don't get why she's so mad right now." Walking away, Cana asks a bear by Guild member what she did and they shrug.

"Mirajane. Can I speak with you in the back?" Knowing that tone of voice, she knows it's either important or a scolding. She follows him in the back and sits down in the arm chair in front of his desk. He sits on the desk top and looks down at her. "Would you like to explain a few things? You seem, out of sorts today."

"I'm fine, Cana just needs to watch what she talks about." Mira stews in her seat and Makarov studies he a bit more.

"Anything happen last night or this morning?"

"Last night...I got attacked by a vampire, fell into the river, and Freed took me to his hotel to get dry."

"What?!"

"It's fine. He was composed, mostly- and we got to talking this morning about his passed and his nature and we..." Makarov is fuming mad.

"I told you to stay away from him! And you end up sharing a room together! A bed!"

"It's not like we did anything. I don't get what the big deal is. He controlled himself." Crossing her arms and her right leg over her left, she stares at the side wall.

"Mirajane, he's unstable. Uncontrollable! He could have killed you!"

"But he didn't."

"But he could have!"

"But he DIDN'T!" She snaps at him. And he sits back. She's never spoken to Master Makarov that way.

"Did you take your potion today, Missy?" He scolds her like a child.

"Yes, and it burned like hell. I think I have pneumonia from that river last night." Makarov shakes his head and looks at Mira with sour eyes.

"It's not pneumonia that's not making the potion work. Your attitude, the outbursts- the potion isn't taking affect on you. How's your magic today?"

"It's...well..." Makarov throws a lamp at her and she just barely dodged it. Looking at it smashed behind her on the floor, she gets mad. "What the HELL!"

"No satan soul for an attack or defense...your magic is drained, isn't it?" She calms down and lowers in her seat. "You've been too exposed to him. He's draining you like a bee taking pollen. You...your...your going to be uncontrollable. You and him...uncontrollable."

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