Twilight (Fairy Tail Version)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Natsu's magic couldn't be described.

The best way I could explain it was like watching a fireplace, seeing the flames pop and sway on top of wood.

Only... Natsu was the wood.

When he stepped into the meadow, it was as if someone lit his body on fire, starting at his feet and ending at the ends of his hair. His eyes blazed through the flames, bright and striking. As he strode through the high grass and flowers, the flora should have been singed and turned to ash. But it wasn't. He controlled it.

My eyes bulged at him as he walked to me in a slow pace. The flames licked at the places he stepped, but as he continued, the evidence of the fire was nonexistent.

I should've been afraid. A normal person would've been afraid. Yet as I watched him approach me in that elongated moment, I couldn't help but think that the magnificence of the meadow paled in comparison to his.

He was so incredible, I feared he would vanish into thin air and take the beauty of this place with him.

He finally got to me, "Lucy." 

I breathed the breath I didn't know I held when my name left his lips. 

"Do I scare you now?"

I gawked at him, the flames continuing to dance around his face. I reached a hand out to touch it. He stiffened when my hand came in contact with his flames... or at least I saw my hand touch his fire. However, I felt nothing. As if I was simply grasping the air around me, I didn't even feel a change in warmth.

I looked up at him in confusion and curiosity, and he returned my gaze with piercing focus.

"No." I answered softly, retracting my hand. How odd. "No more than usual, anyway."

A smile broke out on to his face, his pearly white teeth gleaming as bright as the flames. In next second, his fire was extinguished, and I blinked at him in shock.

"Wow." I gasped, and he chuckled.

"A Fire Dragon Slayor manipulates fire." He explained, crouching down to sit in the small field, "I breathe it in, roar it out, sling it... eat it."

I gaped before sitting down with him, "Eat it?"

He nodded, "It's how I rejuvenate my magic. Mages can run out of it when they've used too much, so for me to power up again, I eat a flame."

"Or a soul?" I inquired, and his smile fell a bit.

"Or a soul." He whispered, and I nodded, mumbling an apology that he accepted. We were quiet for a moment, and when I looked back at him, his eyes were closed.

I bit my lip, gazing down at his hands that rested on the grass. Without thinking, I gently trailed my fingertip along the back of his hand. His body heat was a clear reminder of his fire, and it added to my confusion. How could I feel his immense heat and not his visible flames? He must have been able to choose whom or what it burned.

I looked up to him to see his eyes open and staring at me. I directed my attention back to his hand and trailed my finger up his forearm. My hand trembled, and I doubt it went unnoticed by him.

"Do you mind?" I asked softly. His eyes were closed again.

He hummed, "Not at all." He whispered, "You have no idea how nice that feels."

I hummed in response and continued to trail my finger tip along his perfect muscles, following the pale-bluish pattern of veins that slightly sat up. I reached to turn his hand over, and in a blindingly fast motion, he turned it over himself. I froze at how disconcerting the movement was.