“You’re my favorite creative,” Natsu said. If Lucy had ever felt swayed by his blunt declarations, she hadn’t let it show. She hung her smock on a hook behind her. His soft masculine laughter ran up her spine like fingertips. Objectively, a muse was a conduit for inspiration that she used daily. Subjectively, if Lucy remained in his presence for much longer, she’d break the one golden rule. No creative could touch their muse. One soft brush between them, and it was bye-bye inspiration. At the height of her career, she couldn’t risk losing the one thing that got her there.

“I’m your only creative.” She moved to the stone sink at the back of her studio. The water was cool against her skin and ran murky with the clay that caked her fingers.

“You don’t know that.” His warm breath brushed across her ear, but when she glanced over her shoulder, he stood in the same position far from the sink. A trick of the gods and Natsu was nothing if not a trickster.

“I told you not to do that.”

“Do what?” He held his hands up and leaned away from the table. She turned back to her sink as to not give him anymore fuel to his fire. His footsteps fell light against the hard floor. “The eyes are right.”

“What?” Lucy took the small towel on the serving tray and wiped her hands dry. Natsu stood in front of the unfinished clay version of himself. He leaned forward with a hand resting at his chin to stare his imitation in the eyes. At least she’d gotten the height correct.

“The eyes.” He pointed to the sculpture’s face. The crooked nose distracted her from the observation he made. “They’re perfect. Don’t change them.” Lucy stood beside him to see what he saw. When she made a sculpture, she worked on the face first. This was the first piece she’d ever done that clearly resembled Natsu. All the male figures she painted resembled him in one way or another, but she had concealed that fact well enough. When during the process of this project had she decided to sculpt Natsu completely? “Why did you stop?” He gestured to her freshly washed hands. They stood close enough that if she leaned, she could press her arm against his. The warmth of his skin sliding against her palms. Her fingertips tiptoeing across the valleys of his tanned muscles. His hands lazily navigating her body. Only a daydream.

“I don’t feel like having an audience.” She twisted away from him, keeping her focus on the material she used to wrap the sculpture, to prevent the clay from drying in her absence.

“That’s a shame.” His head tilted to the side and unabashedly examined her. Like a child observing an ant under glass. The casual way his long rosy hair fell to the side of his head made the youthful flush of his skin stand out. “I wanted to stick around longer.” He shrugged and shoved his hands into the pockets of his tan pants. “Guess I’ll see you around.” If those around them could see Natsu, they would surely know he wasn’t mortal. Power clung to his unblemished skin like embers on coal. The unfinished sculpture loomed over her. What a fool she was to believe that she made anything near the real thing. She threw the drape over the clay and tied it securely. The room still enough for her to know he’d disappeared. In Natsu’s absence, the room no longer felt vast like the sky— just another room in the long rows of studios. Her bag lay by the door where someone lightly knocked and peeked into the room.

“Oh, you’re already done?” Gray ran his fingers through his jet-black hair. An awkward habit, though not as awkward as his sporadic nudity.

“I feel uninspired.”

“The muse didn’t show up?” Gray chuckled and stepped into the hall. She closed the door behind her as if by seeing inside, he’d know Natsu had stood within. To everyone else, a muse was a mythical being. Speaking of divine assistance would put her job in danger.

“I wish,” Lucy said.

“I figured we could eat something.”

“I thought you had a class?”

“They canceled, so I picked up a job. I’ll have enough time to eat beforehand.” They fell into step together through the pristine hall. Each intricately carved door was a studio with an artist within. The royals collected them the way one would collect art itself. Lucy never complained—thankful she had a job and a place to stay, a small boarding room with all the other students at the adjacent university. Gray was in a similar boat, and while he didn’t like to talk about his past, she knew he’d come out of tough times. He pushed open the tall heavy doors to the gallery. The nobles displayed the artists’ works inside.

“Sometimes I wish your medium weren’t ice. Your work deserves to be here just as much as the rest of us,” she said. All her sculptures and paintings remained here, one-of-a-kind pieces. She eyed a painting she’d completed a month ago. A male back spread bare across the canvas. His tan muscles contorted while swathed in pink silk fabric. No one would know the subject was Natsu. Not even the muse himself knew. Lucy painted the torso alone in fear that his blossom hair would give her away.

“Why? So, the nobility can display my work and keep it from the rest of the world like pack rats?” His face scrunched in a scowl.

“I honestly don’t care what happens to my pieces.”

“I never understood that about you.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve always felt attached to my pieces.” He squinted at another one of her paintings. The portrait was tall and shrouded in dark colors. The man in the piece wrapped his arms around himself, gardenias peeked out between his clenched fingers, and red carnations bloomed in place of his face. The darkness wrapped around his bare body like an intruding force. She named it Vulnerability. When she painted this one, she had suspected the nobility would hate it, and Natsu would know it was of him. Thankfully, neither of those things happened. In fact, this was Natsu’s favorite painting. She often caught him gravitating toward it when she left the studio late at night. Lucy only ever met him in the art building. When the crickets sang their lament and the world lay still, she’d lie in her cupboard-sized boarding room and question whether she had imagined the muse. Then, she’d find him there gazing at a portrait that she chose not to say was him.

“That’s the thing.” Lucy paused in front of the painting. As much as she wanted to have a strong connection to it, she didn’t. The work merely paints on fabric compared to the real thing. “I’m attached to the act of creating, not the creation.” He shook his head, and they moved to the door that led to the outside world.

“What kind of job did you take?” she asked. The summer heat whipped her in the face as soon as they left the building. The daylight kissed her skin like a familiar whisper at her ear.

“I’m posing for some art students at the university.”

“Nudes again?” She worked to keep the smile from showing on her face while Gray scoffed at her.

“I do more than nudes, Lucy.” His brows came together in a look of indignation.

“But they are nude poses, right?” She jabbed him playfully with her finger.

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point.” The farther away they were from the palace, the more her mind cleared of her work, and of Natsu. She’d return as she always did.

________________________________________

If the daylight whispered to her, then the moonlight howled. Lucy’s feet brought her to the studio like an obsession that evening. The studio remained the way she had left it trapped in time, waiting for her return. She lit the room and pulled the cover off her work. While Natsu’s impromptu visit flustered her into destroying a part of the sculpture, she had a chance to see the real thing as a reference.

With a carving tool, she scraped the abomination from the sculpture, sat at the table to remake the nose, and attached the clay to the face. Of course, Natsu was right. The nose rested perfectly with the rest of his face now that she had redone it. Lucy stepped back from the clay figure and eyed her work. He’d told her not to touch the eyes as though he knew she’d thought of changing them. Why? This version of Natsu loomed dark and pensive. The real one radiated mischief and stood bright in her room, in the sky. Yet, he’d told her they were perfect. She would keep them, if only for his confirmation of his likeness. Lucy dipped a brush in water and smoothed the surface of his clay face, an intimate gesture as if to caress his skin. She had a tune stuck in her head and hummed it as she worked. Her body relaxed into the familiar rhythm of creation, and her fingers made light guiding markings for a mouth. Natsu wore a smile the way others wore clothes. His upturned lips in a guise of charm. Her sculpture told another story. The story of a man who peeled off his smile at the end of the day and gazed at a world in which he wished he belonged. With another wet brush, she worked to mold the lips in a way that she imagined. They came easiest to her. Once the eyes told the story, the rest of the face followed. She mixed more clay, sat at her workbench, and went about shaping the ears. Her body hunched forward in full concentration, so she hadn’t noticed another presence until she heard the tune she’d hummed earlier. Natsu sat across from her at the table. His forearms rested on the wooden surface, he hummed soft enough that she had barely heard it before, and his eyes fixed to her work. He didn’t appear playful like the afternoon, but his face lacked the pensive look her sculpture wore.

“When did you get here?” Lucy’s hand hovered over the clay ear with her detail brush. She sat up straighter and prayed she didn’t look a complete mess.

“The better question is, have I ever left?” The grin returned in full force, and he slouched into his arms to lay against the table. His eyes flicked up to the figure behind her. “Looks good so far.” A surprising sense of relief washed over her. He liked it. She took great interest in the half-formed ear in her palm as to avoid his gaze.

“I left the eyes.”

“I see that. I like the mouth.” She glanced behind her at the pensive mouth she’d made.

“Do you have to be present to give me inspiration?” she asked. He tilted his head and raised a brow.

“Yeah.” No explanation, no flowery language, and a look that told her she was ridiculous for asking.

“Then you really are always here?” Somehow, Natsu trailing behind her without her knowledge didn’t disturb her the way she knew it should.

“Yes and no.” His eyes flicked to the night sky out the high windows. “You know, this building doesn’t have a lot of windows.”

“Well, there’s one there.”

“The only skylight in the entire building is in this room.” A fleeting frown dashed across his face until a fixed grin took its place. “Sometimes I want to burst out that window and set the world on fire.” While an alarming confession from anyone else, from Natsu it felt free and harmless.

“You can’t leave?”

“None of us can.” Her hand froze amid a brushstroke down his clay ear.

“There are more muses here?”

“Yeah, you’d like them, Lucy.” He said her name with a cheerfulness that gave her a false sense of endearment as if she could believe he truly felt fond of her. She held the clay ear at arm’s length to see it next to the real thing. Just focus on work, Lucy. Other muses are none of your business.

“Move your hair back.” Lucy focused on the ear in scale and overall shape. Natsu propped himself on the table so that his face hovered next to the back of her hand. If he wanted to, he could lean in and press his cheek against her. Her heart perched at the base of her throat humming at the beat stuck in her head. He slid his fingers through his hair to expose the naked curve of his ear.

“This better?” he asked. The soft warm breeze of summer breathed through the room and brushed against the back of her neck. A shiver ran through her like static.

“I told you not to do that.” Her voice dropped lower than she expected it to. How bothered was she by this little game he played? His eyes traveled over her face and down her neck. He allowed his hair to fall forward and sat back in the chair. She expected the seat to creak under the adjusted weight, but the only sound in the room was her own breath. The absence of noise the reminder of what he was, what they were. When he stood from the table, the room chilled.

“I hope I helped you.” Natsu shoved his hands in the pockets of his pants and left through the door. Had she done something? The weight of his absence pressed against her chest. Her brush hovered over the clay cradled in her hand. Her inspiration had evaporated along with him, like a slap in the face that said they were different. A creative and their muse. Without Natsu, her progress slowed to a crawl. She agonized over her work, and her brain screamed for her to start a different task. She couldn’t work without him.

“This is ridiculous. One ear. I just need this one ear.” Her brush made all the wrong moves, all the most undesirable shapes, but she made progress. That was enough. “I’ve made art without him before. I can do it again.” How long had she relied on his inspiration for her own motivation? And like a muscle unused for years, she stretched.

________________________________________

“Lucy, wake up.” A warm hand shook her shoulder. Lucy pealed her cheek from the table. When had she fallen asleep? Her hands clutched the clay ear. She’d redone it a million times. The rim of the clay had lightened overnight from drying. Her stomach dropped sharply, and her body burst with adrenaline. Dry clay meant the end of her project, yet she found her work covered and tied. The spray bottle of water sat beside it. Relief washed over her body, her legs turned to mud, and she slouched back in her seat. “Whoa, are you okay? You weren’t here all night, were you?” Gray asked. He sat across from her and leaned against the table. The position reminded her of Natsu that evening. Everything reminded her of Natsu.

“If it makes you happy.” She set the clay aside and stood to retrieve more.

“You should take a break. What’s got you working all day and night?” His attention snapped to the draped figure, and he pointed to it. “This?” She brought the clay to the table and nodded.

“What do you think so far?” she asked. Gray’s brows shot up and he rubbed the back of his neck.

“I didn’t see it. You really should get some sleep, Lucy.”

“You covered it for me. You must have seen.” Movement caught her attention. Natsu leaned against one of her shelves covered in art supplies. His interest remained on a tube of paint she’d left uncapped and planned to dispose of. Gray followed her gaze.

“I didn’t, I promise. You sure you don’t want to go home?” he asked. She shook her head. “You do look tired.” Of course, he didn’t see Natsu.

“I appreciate the concern, but I’m okay, really.” She kneaded the clay between her fingers.

“Do you need help with anything? I can at least come to check on you from time to time.” Gray leaned over the table to brush some hair behind her ear. How long had it been since she’d felt the warmth of someone’s skin? If he hadn’t pulled his hand away, she feared she’d lean into it. He apologized softly, lifting one of his dark brows. Natsu’s attention pulled from the paint and he moved to stand beside Gray. He leaned toward Gray’s head.

“That won’t be necessary,” Lucy said. These were the moments where the lunacy of having a muse sank in. If no one else could see Natsu, was he real?

“At least come to my studio for a bit.” He eyed her kneading fingers with a grimace. “A break or something.” He placed his hands over hers and the clay. Her fingers relaxed from their task. She grappled with his offer, as the sculpture loomed behind her and called like a siren. With Natsu in the room, it felt like a dam had broken. The object of her strange obsession stood beside Gray with a mirrored frown. Natsu tilted his head to Lucy and grinned. Oh no. If she acted out now, Gray would think her crazy. Natsu pursed his lips and blew a silent stream of air at the side of Gray’s face. Gods made no small gestures, so the gust of wind from his lips blew strong enough that Gray toppled from the table and lay on the floor. The artist sat up and held his cheek. While Natsu filled the room with laughter, Gray’s eyes widened as he scanned the room. Lucy dropped the clay and ran around the table to help Gray up. “What was that? Lucy, did you feel that?”

“Look, I’ll come by your studio this afternoon. I appreciate the concern.” She held out her hand to help him to his feet. His hand remained on his cheek as he spoke.

“Did you not feel that just now?”

“Feel what?” Play dumb, kill Natsu later. His hand dropped and he squinted at her. Natsu sat in the seat Gray ejected from and leaned his chin against his palm, watching the show.

“I’ll see you then; I guess.” Gray gave her a polite nod and scanned the room before he left. Lucy turned on Natsu as soon as Gray’s footsteps disappeared.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What? You didn’t want him here either.” He stretched as though he also took a nap at her art table. She went back to her spot across from him. “You have to admit his reaction was hilarious.”

“He was terrified.” Lucy worked the clay with aggression.

“He’ll be fine.” He waved a dismissive hand at the door and nodded toward her hands. “Lucy, you’re going to destroy that clay.” She slapped the clay against her work surface with a loud smack.

“I don’t need you interfering with my life.”

“Okay, then next time, I’ll leave your sculpture out to dry.”

“Gray covered it.”

“He told you he didn’t,” Natsu said. Lucy shook her head, picked up her clay, and carefully molded it into a new ear. When she completed them, she removed the cover from the sculpture and fixed the ears to Natsu’s clay head. She smoothed the clay with water and added clean details of the first strands of his hair that snuggly fit next to his ear. The flow of work kept her mind busy enough to ignore Natsu’s presence.

________________________________________

The bright afternoon sun soon flooded into the room and bathed the studio in warm light. Natsu had moved below the window and gazed up at the cloudless sky. His stance tense with hands wrapped in fists. His mouth tightened to a line and his jaw visibly clenched.

“I’m going to take Gray’s advice and take a break.” Her voice cut through his thoughts enough for her to witness him visibly relax. His scowl replaced with a sharp smile.

“Taking that ice queen’s advice?” He gave a clipped laugh. “I can’t believe he fell over like that.”

“What do you have against him anyway?”

“Nothing.” Natsu tilted his head away from the window. “He’s fun is all.” While his face appeared genuine, Lucy hardly believed his words.

“Muses are strange.” She washed up and covered her work to keep it from drying out. Her fingers slid her apron over the hook by the door. Natsu moved back to his seat, his leg bounced below the table, and his head turned back to the window. “Thank you.” His leg stilled.

“For what?”

“For keeping my work safe,” she said. He turned around in the chair, so that he straddled it, and studied her.

“Where are you going?”

“I said I’d go visit Gray.” Lucy held up a finger to stop him as he stood. “You are not coming.” His eyes glinted the way they did when she challenged him. “Natsu, I mean it, you’re just going to upset him.”

“It’s not like he can see me, Lucy.”

“I won’t be long. I’m coming right back here anyway.”

“Why do I feel like a dog that you’re leaving home for the afternoon?”

“Maybe, that is what I’m doing.” She closed the door as his laughter filled her ears. The sound made her stomach flip, and the feeling lingered all the way to Gray’s studio.

In the hall’s silence, she wished she’d allowed Natsu to go with her. Anything to liven up the cold dead air as she descended toward Gray’s place of work. She stood before his tall studio door and rapped at the metal entrance with the heavy knocker. When no one answered, she allowed herself in. The room dim except for a set of professional lights in the back. The room filled with the sound of tools on ice. His studio, half the size of her own, remained at a low temperature with dim lighting and no windows to preserve the piece.

“Gray?” The sounds stopped, and a chair moved behind a partition.

“Lucy, you made it.” Gray came to greet her, glancing behind her toward the door.

“It’s just me,” She said. He held his hand out for her to sit on a stool beside him. “How are you always shirtless in here? It’s freezing.” Gray laughed as he pulled away the partition to reveal the massive slab of ice behind it.

“Well, what do you think so far?” Gray stood next to her, eyeing the sculpture from her point of view. His fingers cradled his chin as he glanced between Lucy and the ice woman before them. Lucy had never seen this woman before. She lay on the ice like a mermaid basking on a rock. Her legs curled beneath her, one arm lay on the ice beside her, while the other hand slid through her hair. The dress she wore flowed beneath her. A slit on the side revealed ample hip and slender legs.

“Gray, this is amazing.” Lucy stood from the stool and walked around the sculpture. Sure, the fabric was still rough, and the ice beneath her needed work, but the person atop was beautiful. “Who is she?”

“Don’t smirk at me like that.” Gray reverted his gaze to the tools across the table beside the sculpture, but not fast enough for Lucy to miss the flush of his cheeks. Did he know this woman outside of work?

“Well? How long have you been dating?”

“It’s complicated.” Even without explanation, Lucy understood the feeling. Gray’s smile fell into a scowl at something behind her.

“What?” The room remained empty except for his equipment and other sculptures he’d worked on, all abandoned for this piece. From the moment she entered the room, until now, she felt another’s unfamiliar presence. Could it be?

“Nothing. I’m glad you like it.” He picked up a detail pick and went to work on the fabric of her dress.

“Hey, Gray?” Lucy’s mind swam with questions, but only one rang out for an answer. He acknowledged her without looking up. “Do you believe in muses?” His hand lingered over the ice.

“Muses are myths.” Even as the words left his lips, his hand remained still.

“I believe in them.” She crossed her arms over her body and shook in the icy room.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“Gray, is this your muse?” She pointed to the sculpture in front of him.

“What if I said yes?” Gray twisted the pick between his hands and pursed his lips in the way he did when he bit at the inside of his mouth. Lucy placed a hand on his shoulder and felt him relax beneath her palm.

“Then I’d say—”

“Calm down, Lucy is just visiting.” Natsu leaned against the door with arms crossed over his chest.

“She’s all over him!” The woman stood behind Gray and shouted to Natsu. Her long, wavy blue hair fell over her shoulder as she leaned forward to point in the direction of Lucy’s hand. Natsu rolled his eyes. The woman huffed with hands on her hips, glaring at her.

“You’re his muse,” Lucy said. Juvia’s eyes widened, and her arms fell.

“Now you’ve done it,” Natsu said.

“Who are you?” Gray asked, noticing Natsu for the first time. He pulled Lucy closer to him and ignored the protest from the woman behind him. Natsu’s eyes narrowed on Gray’s hand on her waist. “What are you doing in my studio?”

“Well, now that she’s seen Juvia, I better introduce myself.” Natsu bowed low and gave Gray a shark’s smile. “I’m Natsu, Lucy’s muse.”

“Why can I see her?” Lucy asked.

“Probably because you guys were discussing us.” Natsu shrugged casually but tightened his grip on his upper arm.

“What do you want with Gray?” Juvia asked. She stood tall in the same dress as the sculpture.

“Juvia.” Gray’s voice warned, but he let go of Lucy.

“Want? He’s my friend.” Was his muse jealous? “Are you guys together?” Gray sighed.

“No, we work together,” he said.

“Juvia will change your mind!” the muse cried and blinked out of the room.

“Sorry about that, she’s—”

“Passionate?” Lucy said.

“Clingy,” Natsu added. Gray glared at him from his seat.

“What about you?” he asked. Natsu raised a brow, his smile remained planted firmly on his face.

“What about me?”

“Are you together?” Gray said.

“Gray, don’t do this.”

“No, I want his answer, Lucy.” Gray placed his pick on the tray and stood. “What is she to you? Just an artist to play with?”

“Are you not doing that with Juvia? Playing?” Natsu’s feet firmly planted to the ground as Gray took a step forward.

“Whoa there.” Lucy held an arm out in front of his chest. “I’m going to leave now.” She didn’t want to have them fight with each other. She also didn’t want to hear the answer to the question that Natsu avoided. She and Natsu weren’t together, she knew that, yet she feared hearing this from him.

“See you in the studio.” With that, Natsu disappeared.

“How have you not told me about him?”

“What is with that tone? I could say the same about Juvia, but you already know the answer to that.” Her frustration simmered, and Gray eased off.

“You’re right. It just all came out at once.”

“I know.” Lucy gave his hand a squeeze and pulled away. “I’m going back to work.” She hesitated in the doorway and gazed inside. Now that her friend stood alone in the room, he appeared so small. “Hey, Gray?” He glanced back at her. “I love the piece. Please, finish it.” He smiled as she closed the door and paced back to her own studio.

Her door slammed behind her as she entered. As she thought, Natsu stood under the high windows, gazing up at the vast sky.

“I told you not to follow me.” The frustration she thought she’d extinguished lit up.

“You know me better than that.”

“Yes, always meddling in my life.” Lucy pulled the smock over her and secured her hair on her head with a tie.

“How was that meddling in your life? You were talking about art and us.”

“What do you mean us? You and Juvia?” she asked, convinced he didn’t mean him and her. She pulled the cover away from her sculpture. How could she work on this while she fought with the very person she sculpted? I don’t need a muse to make art. Could she believe that now? All her success was due to the man standing in her studio. Somehow, the thought only infuriated her more. “Did you pick me?”

“What?” Natsu leaned against her art table, as she worked on the clay hair that fell around the sculpture’s face.

“Did you pick me to be your creative?”

“No.” Blunt as always. No hesitation. A part of her always imagined that he had chosen her specifically, that she was special to him. “Lucy, look at me, please.” Had she ever heard his voice this soft before? She turned to find him leaned off the table and in front of her. Lucy stood sandwiched between the art and the imitation in clay behind her.

“What? Have something else to add?” Her lip quivered. He no longer hid behind the veil of a smile.

“You’re crying.” He reached out, as if to brush away a tear, paused just before her skin, and pulled away. His brows came together, and his mouth set in a frown. “I can’t help you the way he can.”

“Gray? How?”

“I can’t touch you.”

“How would that help me?” she asked, wiping away at her cheeks. She took a breath to calm herself. Don’t fall apart, or he’ll leave. “Why are you bringing him up?”

“He can comfort you, can leave this building with you.” Natsu rubbed at the back of his neck and stared back up at the afternoon sun. “Can kiss you if he wanted to.” A warm breeze brushed against her skin, across her cheek, and down her neck. Her heart raced, and she worried he’d hear.

“Do you want to?” she asked. Natsu leaned forward so their lips hovered next to each other. Lucy closed her eyes and relaxed her mouth. The warmth evaporated, and when she opened her eyes, Natsu was gone.

Lucy sat at her studio table and stared at the sculpture swathed in fabric. Her finger slid over her lips as she pictured Natsu kissing her. She slumped against her worktable and shifted to see out her window. The afternoon sun had dropped away, and the studio tinted in purple and pink. Lucy stood and stretched. I can’t sit around forever. She stood before the piece that had taken so much from her already, uncovered it, and began to work.

________________________________________

“No peeking!” Lucy guided Gray into her studio with his hand firmly over his eyes.

“Can I look now?”

“Just stand here.” She positioned him far enough away that he’d be able to see the sculpture fully. “Okay, open your eyes.” Gray dropped his arms, his brows rose, and he gave a low whistle. “Well?”

“Lucy, this is incredible.” He stepped closer to the finished work. The clay stood dry and varnished. “The level of detail is amazing. Lucy, the clothes alone are immaculate.”

“So, you like it?”

“Of course! I mean, I wish it weren’t of that asshat, but I like it.” Gray’s smile allowed her shoulders to relax.

“I’m glad. And he’s not an asshat.”

“How long has it been since you’ve seen him?” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“Since our fight,” she said. He shook his head and let out a long breath.

“I mean, I’m one to talk. I haven’t seen Juvia.”

“Really? I thought she’d be all over you when I left.” Finding out about each other’s muses felt like so long ago.

“Not like we can really be all over each other,” Gray said.

“So, if you could, you would?” She nudged him with her elbow. His cheeks warmed and he nudged her back.

“I want her to see my piece once it’s finished, but I don’t know where she is.”

“Natsu told me once that he never really left. When I’m inspired, whether I see him or not, it is because he’s there.”

“Do you believe him?”

“I do. I never lost inspiration while I finished this piece. Something drove me that could only be described as supernatural.” Lucy had stared at the sculpture far longer than she’d like to admit, yet she still found her eyes gravitating toward Natsu’s face, his lips. “Did you ever resent her? Did it feel like you weren’t good enough without her?”

“Did I resent her for inspiring me? No.” Gray slumped into the seat beside them. “I have always been grateful to Juvia. I think of a muse as someone who boosts the talent we already have.” He shrugged and pointed to her piece. “Hard to resent them when they have us make things like this.” She couldn’t blame him for feeling that way.

“I miss him,” she admitted.

“I know.” Gray stood from the chair and made his way toward the door. “Let me know if you see them. If you need me, I’ll be finishing up downstairs.” Lucy nodded and sat down in her usual seat.

She stared at the door, out of focus, long after he’d closed it. Her thoughts swirl back to her own question. So, if you could, would you? She’d asked him that question without asking herself.

“They chose you for me.” Lucy nearly jumped out of her skin from Natsu’s voice. He leaned against the statue of his likeness and inspected his own face. Her heart twisted in his presence and her stomach lighter than air. When had she begun to feel this way for him?

“Who?”

“The fates. They told me you were important to me. I hadn’t even met you yet. Weird, huh?” He grinned and ran a hand through his rosy hair. “But I get it now.” Lucy still had to process the fates when he stepped forward and pressed his palms to the stained worktable. “Sorry that I haven’t been around to talk to.” His laughter bounced off her studio walls. Was he joking with her?

“What are you talking about, Natsu?” Lucy moved around the table and stood in front of him.

“I needed time to think about what I really wanted.” He eyed the statue of himself. “I realized that I need something from you first.”

“You’re not making any sense.”

“It’s perfect, Lucy.” Her name on his tongue sounded sweet, and his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Looks just like me.”

“I’m not so sure.”

“Are you? You’ve done it before.”

“I haven’t sculpted you before,” she said. Natsu felt different as he stepped closer. Desperate, maybe? She wasn’t going anywhere, so what was he doing? She shook her head. “Are you okay?”

“You’ve painted me perfectly. Every single time. Like you looked inside and pulled me out.” His eyes softened and his hand reached out to her. She sucked in a breath as his hand hovered over her cheek, her neck, and down her arm. While he never made contact, somehow, she still felt him against her skin.

“How did you know those paintings were of you?”

“I always knew. I assumed it was because I’m a muse, not because you cared. I still gave into that. I shouldn’t have.” He stared down at his open palm. “I keep thinking how selfish I am. A god with nothing to lose, and a woman who could have everything taken away.” This time, Lucy held out her palm. Her hand lingered just above his face, fingers traveled over his lips and hovered splayed over his chest. She could see his jaw work and his muscles tense, allowing her a moment to pretend. To have this power over a god. Intoxicating.

“Natsu, do you love me?” she asked. A warm feeling brushed over her hair and traveled along her jaw. His eyes softened, focused on her lips.

“Every day.” His eyes widened as he searched her face. “I made you cry again?” She shook her head.

“Damn the gods and the games they play.” She inhaled and willed herself not to break. “I want to be with you, to touch you.” She gladly took a gift from the divine, and this was the price she paid.

“Let me.” Natsu hadn’t wavered, as stone still as the statue that stood beside them. “Tell me and I will.” What was more important to Lucy? Could she live without the career she had worked tirelessly for? If she told him no, what would they be? Like a ghost, he’d linger. No amount of paint could give her what she really wanted. She’d forever wonder if she didn’t take the plunge.

“Please,” Lucy begged. Natsu pulled her to him like she was sand through his fingers. Quick enough and they’d never part. His lips pressed firmly to hers, softer and warmer than she ever expected. Her hands splayed against his chest. Then the world turned cold. Her hands grasped to nothing in the chilled air. Her eyes opened and she was alone. “Natsu?” Her blood turned icy in her veins, and her heartbeat pulsed in her ears. Just as he said, one touch and he disappeared. I can fix this. Her palm pressed against the worktable for balance. But how?

Lean tan arms wrapped around Lucy’s shoulders, a warm chest pressed to her back, and lips dusted a light kiss against her neck. She whirled around to face Natsu and the empty platform where her work once stood. “How?”

“I don’t know. I opened my eyes and stood in your art’s place.” Natsu’s gaze darkened and roamed across her body as if seeing her for the first time. She’d created a form for him, for a god. The relief welled up inside her chest. Lucy gripped the front of his loose shirt and pulled him to her. This time, she smashed her lips to his, hot and wanting. He wrapped his arms around her as she threaded her fingers through his silken hair. Natsu explored her mouth and pressed her back against the worktable. She nearly lost her breath when he pulled away, gazing down at her against the familiar wooden surface. The sun created a halo of light around his hair, and his lips flushed from their kiss. She reached up and finally pulled down his shirt. His tan skin chiseled like the god he was.

“Wanted a peak?” He grinned and pulled her hair down from her tie. Her blond hair fell around her head. He hovered over her and gave a long exhale.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trying to calm down.”

“Why?” Lucy tugged at the loose fabric at his waist, tossed the shirt to the side, and worked on his pants. Her sex clenched at the look he gave her.

“I want to savor this.” He trailed his fingertips against her cheek, a whisper of contact against her skin, and her body arched up into his divine touch. So starved for him, her body responded. Natsu took his time to lazily trace her curves with his fingertips. When he moved around her most sensitive places, she groaned. Her skin going up in flames from the lack of what she really wanted. Lucy slid her fingers against his growing erection. Natsu sucked in air sharply through his teeth and grabbed her hand. He pulled her arm over her head and pinned her there. He feathered kisses down the base of her throat to her awaiting chest. Her nipples hardened to sensitive peaks through the fabric of her top, and his eyes flicked up as his lips surrounded them in heat. She wiggled her hips beneath him and pushed her breast against his mouth. The corner of his lips raised, as he pulled her button top open with a pop. Instead of pulling off her bra, he slipped the fabric around her breasts, pushing them up toward his mouth. He groaned as he suckled her nipple, running a thumb against the other in a languid tease.

“God.” She groaned and clung to him as he feasted.

“You called?” he said with a mouth full of her and skimmed his teeth against the flushed bud.

“Fuck.” She groaned when he slipped his hand to the juncture between her legs.

“I will in a minute.” Natsu flicked his tongue against the other nipple. The one he left cold without the warmth of his mouth.

“Will you quit joking.” The whimper left Lucy without her consent, dragged out by the long stroke of his tongue and his fingers that worked her folds over her pants. Natsu leaned back and pulled her body further on the table so her legs straddled him. He worked her pants and underwear from her hips, dropping them to the ground. With one swipe, her bra pulled from her body and into the heap of her clothes on the floor. “Natsu, please.” She reached out for him, her voice husky and lost. He worked his own clothes from his body. Heat pooled to her core with the full view of him, hard shaft freed and eager, and the tip glistened with precum. Instead of plunging forward, the way she thought he would, he kneeled before her and spread her bare to him. She raised herself up on her elbows unaffected by the slight embarrassment in the position. When he pulled her legs over his shoulders, her heart raced. Natsu’s deep green eyes met hers as he spread her folds with his thumbs and lowered his tongue to her damp arousal. Lucy’s head lulled to the side, her eyes half closed, as the pleasure rippled through her body. His name left her lips in a rush, and his tongue plunged deep into her heat. One of his thumbs swirled around her clit, and her body ached for more. She felt herself building up as he pushed further, stroked her faster, and made her legs shake at the sides of his head. She shoved her fingers into his hair. His eyes still locked on her face like a jungle cat. The look alone sent her into a frenzy of lust. The euphoria of her climax made her cry out. As soon as she thought he’d stop, he dragged another from her. Her body dropped against the table when he slowed. He moved her legs from his shoulders and rose with his mouth glistening from where he devoured her. Natsu buried his fingers inside her and pulled them out to slide them over his cock. His hand making an erotic squelch sound as he lubed himself with her. The anticipation built with each jerk of his hand, and she wiggled beneath him. Natsu grinned at her movement and clutched her thigh to still her.

“You’re not going to let me last, are you?” Natsu asked. She shook her head and opened her legs wider for him. He placed the head of his cock against her drenched vulva, and slowly sheathed himself into her, filling her with the length of him. Her moan resonated inside the studio, and his eyes rolled back with delight as he fully sank into her. He sat there for a moment inside her, breathing long and steady before he pulled out to the tip. Lucy almost protested until he surged deep into her with a hot smack of their skin. This time, it was his moan that filled the room. “Fuck.”

“I thought that’s what you’re doing,” she said. His hips moved, keeping any other joke from leaving her lips. He positioned his hands on either side of her head and moved his hips in a delicious rhythm inside her. Her hands clutched him for dear life, and she lifted her hips to meet his thrusts in exquisite pleasure. He slid a hand beneath her and pulled her hips up higher in just the right position. Her cries louder, faster than before as he rocked against her sweetest places.

“Coming for me, Lucy?” The teasing tone replaced with the husky sound of his voice, and the absolute ecstasy that she saw in his face. He slammed into her, as she rode her climax, and leaned back with her thighs in each hand. His lip caught between his teeth as he positioned himself. His cock visibly impaled her tight core. The sensual sight of him forever engrained into her mind.

“Come for me, Natsu.” Her voice, husky and raw in her own ears, spurred him on.

“Lucy.” Her name rolled off his tongue as he came deep inside her. His thrusts slowed and his chest worked to catch his breath. Natsu dragged out one of the chairs, sat, and pulled her to his lap. She straddled him and wrapped around him with her lips pressed into the crook of his neck. Warmth surrounded her in his embrace. Lucy slid her fingers through his tousled hair as they breathed. Natsu’s hands caressed her back in an intimate gesture that reminded her this was real.

“Don’t leave me again,” she said. His warm breath at her shoulder as he spoke.

“Never.” He enfolded her in his arms. She glanced at the pedestal that once held her work.

“You stole my sculpture.” Lucy felt his laugh against her.

“Would you like it back?” Natsu asked.

“No, you can keep it.” She sat back and cupped his face in her hands. Her thumb skimmed his skin. “I want to thank the fates.” Natsu placed his broad hand against the back of her head and pulled her into a deep kiss.

“Holy shit.” A voice came from the door followed by a click as it shut. Natsu’s boisterous laugh shook her. Lucy felt the heat spread instantly to her cheeks and playfully smacked him.

“Stop laughing. Someone saw us.”

“It was Gray.” Natsu barely got the words out. Lucy stood up quickly and moved around the table toward the door. “Hey, don’t go out like that.” He tossed her his long button up shirt. She wrapped the fabric around her and allowed it to hang to her knees. She peaked out of her studio and found Gray with his back against the wall beside the door. His hands clasped over his eyes.

“Stupid, stupid,” he said. She moved into the hallway and hugged herself tighter.

“Gray?” The man jumped from the wall and took in her appearance. His blushing cheeks darkened with the sight of her.

“I’m sorry. I should have knocked. I only came to tell you that I found Juvia.”

“Oh, well, I, uh.” What could she say to make this any better?

“Damn, I’m sorry,” Gray said again.

“This is a weird question, especially now, but did Juvia become your ice sculpture?” she asked.

“I freaked out, couldn’t say anything. I told her to wait, so I could tell you.” He wiped a hand across his face. “But, apparently, you didn’t need me to tell you.” The guilt of not having thought of Gray sank like a stone, and the embarrassment rose again.

“Shouldn’t you be going back to your girl?” Natsu opened the door wider. He’d pulled on his pants and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. Gray glared at him.

“I thought I’d tell my friend the good news, asshole.”

“Well, congrats. You better get to her. Hope everything works out for ya.” Natsu wrapped an arm around Lucy and pulled her into the studio. “Bye, ice boy.” He closed the door and pressed her back against it. “Thought he’d never leave.”

“Natsu! I was talking to him.”

“He’ll thank me later. I’m sure Juvia is losing her mind with jealousy since he came all the way over here for you.”

“You were helping him?” she asked. He shrugged and pulled her into another kiss. His hands snaked into his shirt, cupped the weight of her breasts, and slid his thumbs against her sensitive skin.

“I think we have a problem,” he said.

“What?”

“Now that I can touch you, I don’t want to stop.” Natsu pressed his forehead against hers and grinned.