#naatsus

          Nonchalance embodied each and every passenger aboard the tremendous train, as preparation for departure was taken. The customary commotion from the notorious Dragon Slayer plagued with motion-sickness had disrupted the entirety of the atmosphere, however people were pretending to overlook it. Eyes belonging to every age group leisurely glanced over to their direction; discreetly prying from adolescence and elderly alike, inquiring to one another regarding the boisterous calamity to emit from two individuals bearing the prominent insignia of Fiore’s pride and joy, Fairy Tail. Incoherent grumbles and profanities impulsively escaped in order to silence his companion, but all attempts proved futile until the train actually began moving, as much to Natsu’s apparent dismay, he shut right up. Aggravation amalgamated with embarrassment, having to endure the awkwardness alone, since their typical teammates were absent. Naturally, accompanying that absurd assortment, was withdrawn, and unvoiced condolences.

          Benevolence shrouded underneath annoyance took its tole yet once more. Such an occurrence had been uneasily resting upon the surface of expectancy since the last time; anxiously waiting to emerge. Hence forth, the total lack of astonishment from Gray’s being, and the intact facade exposed not even a traceable ounce of sincerity through visible features. Albeit, a small portion of the apparent indignation was genuine, the vast majority merely presented itself since it was practically brimming with tendencies. If he’d displayed otherwise, it’d likely cause a commotion amongst the duo, evoking unbelievable barrages of emotions yet to be dispersed during the course of their interactions. Much to his appreciation, by this point in life, concealing heartfelt thoughts is second nature; done thoughtlessly, like a reflex. With the exception of embarrassment and flustered discomposure’s; those have yet to be fully conquered. Even so, it’s a mere matter of time.

❝ Natsu Dragneel? What brings you to Sabertooth? If you're looking for Master Jiji, he's not here. ❞

ask-thebluehaired-bookworm

  celestial-lady

lovelyfairytail

  fulmen---s

naatsu-s

     A tremendous quantity of tribulation shot inward. That abrupt contact of teeth resembling daggers, or more accurately acute fangs, clamping down to graze of the frigid surface of his flesh. Before oculars confirmed the culprit, that unmistakable aroma of familiarity was inhaled, prompting no need to glimpse over. Nostrils subtly flared from the overwhelming intake, as that whiff of curiosity was voicelessly treasured. Nonetheless, without thinking, he hastily turned his head in vehement reluctance, ensuring direct eye contact with the obvious fiend. It wasn’t especially astounding for his adversary to approach in an absurd manner, but biting wasn’t within expectancy at all. Playful or otherwise, it was bewildering. Notwithstanding the immense aggravation incorporating into his immediately flushed visage, coral hues would dauntlessly embark into appearance overhead of the habitually ivory cheeks. A pastel complexion manifested as eyes narrowed deliberately, evoking a conspicuous demeanor to become unconcealed.

     ”What the hell’re you scraping those fangs against me for?!” Gray exclaimed. A clear struggle to comprehend that ludicrous course of action began, as he unknowingly refused to further recognize that lingering trace of warmth which had been emitted to his flesh. Albeit, not all physical contact between the duo of adversary’s would go by overlooked as casual or even desirable; this mere collision merely agonized him, despite the absence of actual pain. Thoughtlessly expanding the footing between them, he upheld a weak stance of composure less than a foot away. “Jeez, I can’t even imagine what else has been in that mouth of yours. You’ll really go on tastin’ anything without a second thought, won’t you? Frigging bastard,” he humorlessly spoke before willfully taking a petite step forth, and shamelessly slamming his fist down upon the others remarkably stiff noggin. A solemn scoff escaped briefly parted lips as his hand would quizzically raise in pursuit. Without warning, a gentle flick of his index finger would contact Natsu’s forehead.