How does one describe her?
Elegant and proper?
Her skin sparkling like an enchanted chandelier, her movements those of a slow waltz. Her gaze always kept and a bright smile stuck in place.
Kind and endearing?
Her heart bigger than life and always reaching out for others. Her words lifting the spirits of even the broken and her touch as gentle and light of a silk feather. Chocolate could be envious of her, her rich laugh echos through the halls, soaking up everyone in sight.
Maybe mysterious and unique?
Her eyes holding countless question like the stars above, bringing you in, begging for a glance from her. Something out of a novel is what she is, a fantasy come to life, one you must see to believe.
Everyone would describe her as joyous, kind, unique in every way.
But for him.
She was much different.
She was the way the waves crashed against the rocks or the way dew dropped from the morning flowers.
She was the North Star in every room, hard to miss and you just wanted to follow her anywhere.
She was the slamming of a door, hurried kisses and pants, begging for pleasure.
She was sweatshirts and coffee. Comfort and cozy. Something that you couldn't get enough of. She was there in the morning frost and the nighttime fire.
She was everything to him and he was her world.
"Gray-sama?" Juvia asked. He looked up from his journal, putting his pen down.
"Yes?"
"What are you writing about?" She asked and took a spot next to him on their comfy couch.
He looked at her as she read his writing, she was in her favorite sweatshirt, that once belonged to him, and the smell of coffee wavered off of her, tempting him ever so slightly.
"I was writing about you." He said. Her head looked up and she was met with his lips, a blush spreading on her cheeks.
"You think Juvia is the North Star?" She giggled as they pulled away.
"I'd follow you anywhere, so yeah. You're my North Star."
She kissed him again, the taste of coffee lingered on his lips and he knew for certain that she was definitely his comfort.