She's upset again. Dammit. He hates it when she gets like this. His dark eyes track the lines as they appear dark and vivid against his own tan skin. The design crawls from wrist to elbow on his left arm and he watches raptly as the images bleed together into one cohesive picture that made his gut clench uncomfortably. So dark and sad. His fist clenches as he tears the jacket sleeve back over his bared arm and covers the lines before taking a deep, semi-calming breath. He wanted to fix it. Gods did he just want to grab her and make whatever upset her disappear. But he doesn't even know who she is and that knowledge infuriates him.

It's a Kraken. She'd read a story once and there had been pictures of the monster and as her world seemed to crumble under its own weight and her name seemed to drag her under like an anchor around her neck she'd done what she always did and grabbed a marker. She'd gotten used to covering her arms at all times and staying to small images to keep her father from noticing but as rarely as he bothers to look at her anymore she gets lost in the drawing. Tentacles wrapping a glistening ship, masses broken and hull shattered, crashing waves beginning to swallow into inky depths. Her name is like the Kraken.

Gods, they'd gotten so sad. First that squid thing, tentacles crushing a ship and making him sad and then a crumpled castle, turrets shattered and covered in creeping ivy like it'd been forgotten and now this. Its a masterpiece to his eyes, awe inspiringly vivid for a sketch done in marker on an arm that isn't even his. The dragon had a tear trailing from his eye which was trained on a woman. She was reaching out towards the beast from where a knight held her aloft, like he was taking her away. Their faces, both the dragon and the woman''s heartbreaking. He just wants to fix it.

She's drawing a bird. It's been so long since she'd drawn anything remotely happy but as she looks at the phoenix flying towards the sun on one dainty forearm a giggle escapes pink lips as the train horn blows loudly. She'd drawn a bird.

They are tears of relief. He'd been waiting for her to draw something that wasn't all sad and gloomy for months now. The intervals where she hadn't drawn at all had driven him mad. When he'd felt the familiar tingling on his skin, the ghost of her pen moving, he'd ripped up his sleeve and felt his eyes water. She'd drawn a bird.

Sometimes he would draw back to her though it was rare and the skill was somewhere between an infant and a prepubescent child. She'd always, at least as far back as she can actually remember, always left her right arm bare for him. There was no skill but he drew back. She'd tried to write words on her skin but they never took like everything else seemed to, just like legends said. But sometimes, he draws back and those stick figures kept her from drowning.

Flowers, fairies, sunsets...she's pretty much been drawing everyday now and his heart has never felt so light. Her drawings are always so amazing but now they breath life. He'd taken to wearing clothing that bared his arms despite the superstitions because these deserved to be seen and he was proud to bear her marks on his skin.

She might have been overdoing it just a bit but she'd been so happy and free and her black and white sketches had evolved into full colored pictures just because she could. They cover her whole arm sometimes and she absolutely loves it. Loved that she had the freedom to do it. The little smiley face or even a crudely drawn flower once made it all the better.

He wants to meet her. Everyday he'd wait for that first line and watch dazzled as the pictures formed. He wanted to know what had changed. He wanted to know everything about her. He wanted to find her.

He may be a genius. A crappy artist but a genius anyway. She hoped that's what it was at least. It took her awhile to figure it out and even longer to build up the nerve to circle the continent where she was. Nerves sucked. When a red circle appeared around her own yellow she grinned hugely.

Her's was better than his. Not that he was shocked by this. He wasn't even sure she would be able to figure out what he'd meant to convey let alone answer him but he'd somehow always known she'd be brilliant. He marks an X on the map of Fiore she'd drawn then drawn near it what he hoped she would recognize as a church considering the cathedral was huge and famous so she'd have to know about it right?

A church? Because there aren't a million of those. OK so maybe he isn't a genius. But the X was what she really needed in any case and unfolding a map she easily finds the city he'd marked. A place called Magnolia.

There's a train on his arm. He's actually pretty damn annoyed about it cuz looking at the thing makes his stomach turn but realization quickly overpowers the thought provoked motion sickness and he jumps and yells which causes quite the scene in the guildhall. She's coming!

She isn't sure what he's drawn this time. Its a symbol of some sort she can tell but it's done so messily its hard to decipher what its meant to be. With an amused snort she quickly draws an X over it right as the train slows at the station. When the doors open she is trembling but finds a bench and does a quick outline of the station. Then she waits. Doodling absentmindedly for the first time on her right arm nerves settle and her heart pounds like a drum even as she gets lost in her drawing. Bold lines form a dragon, tail curled around the shape of a woman protectively. She seemed happy enough to be there if the look of love on her face was any indication. She wasn't sure why she was always drawing the dragon and the woman but they'd featured almost exclusively when she thought about him.

She doesn't notice him. He'd been dreaming of her since her could remember, wanted her with a single minded intensity since before he'd even know what want was. Wanted to see what she looked like when she covered his skin in her claiming marks. His arm tingles with every stoke of her pen and that seemed to cement the knowledge that yes, he'd found her and he almost purred. He'd found her. Or she'd found him. Either way really.

A hand enters her field of vision. A strong hand and her heart begins to race wildly. The lines she'd just drawn snaked up the wrist and she nearly choked on a whimpered cry. The hand cups her jaw with a tenderness she'd never known and encourage her to lift her face for that first meeting of their eyes. The bond forms like a physical chain linking them and tears fall as she takes in dark eyes so filled with everything she'd ever dared dream of. She doesn't even mind the possessive claim he makes instead of greeting her normally.

"Hey. I'm Natsu. And your mine."