You don’t get the chance to

You don’t know how long you stand there dealing with your inner turmoil, but before long the door you’ve spent so much time staring at suddenly opens and smacks you right in the face. After falling to the ground, you focus all you willpower to drown out the pain in your nose. Lucky, it’s not broken, but that doesn’t change the fact that it hurts like hell.

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry! I didn’t know someone was there, are you okay?”

Once enough of the pain in your face has dulled, you open your eyes to look at the unintentional assailant. You were surprised to see it was a small, slender girl with her blue hair tied up with a colored ribbon. She wore an orange dress with a short skirt that had a white ribbon tied to the front that acted as shoulder straps for the dress, while her arms had separate sleeves that were tied to her arms just below the shoulders. She had breasts that were maybe A, B-cup, but her main appeal was her perfect waistline/hip relationship. She didn’t have the same curvy figure as Mirajane, but she was still sexy, in a cutesy sorta way.

“I’mb phin” (I’m fine) you said, still holding your nose with one hand.

“Oh my gosh, I hit your nose when I opened the door! Are your alright, is your nose broken?” she asked as she took your free arm and tried her best to pull you up, although you were too big and she was too small to effectively lift you up, you thought it was kind of adorable how she’s putting so much effort in trying to help you up all by herself.

“Ithz awite, mha noth ithnd bwokn” (It’s alright, my nose isn’t broken) you respond as you “assist” her in lifting you up from the ground.

“Are you sure? Let me look at it” she says as you’re up on your feet. She tiptoes while pulling your head down close enough for her to examine the damage to your nose.

From that position, you can see down her dress to glimpse her small, but perky breasts before you look up in fear of getting caught. She’s so focused on examining your nose from several angles that she doesn’t notice you staring at her face. You admit she certainly is cute, if a little naïve. The fact that she so readily positioned you both to where you could peek down her dress shows she hasn’t considered the possibility that you could be some random pervert inches away from **** her.

After a few minutes of gingerly examining your nose, she finally takes her hands off your face, although you’ve grown so accustomed to their soft, warm feeling that your face feels bare without them. You quickly catch yourself before you cast a disappointed face just as she starts trying to brush off some dirt from your shirt and pants.

“Hey, it’s alright, miss…?”

She quickly bolts up with a shocked expression.

“ohmygosh, I’m so rude! Here I am touching you all over and I haven’t even given you my name! I’m Levy McGarden from Fairy Tails Team Shadow Gear. I’m so sorry!” she says with a flushed look on her face that does little to restrain your chuckle.

“It’s alright. My name is John Doe. I’m a freelance mage. I was just about to apply to the guild before I zoned off in front of the door.”

“I’m so sorry!” she cried out, her face still tinted pink with embarrassment.

“It’s alright. That’s what I get for zoning out right in front of a door,” you chuckle.

She eventually stops apologizing and offers to lead you to the guild master. Once you pass the door, you find yourself unprepared for the atmosphere inside.

Contrary to the serious and stern guild you had pictured in your mind, everyone in the guild seemed to be partying. Mages ordered food and drinks from waitresses who wore uniforms with the Fairy Tail logo on them. While some were dancing around drunk others were going into what at first looked like a bar fight, but was treated as a minor playfight by the mages who spectated them. You found yourself constantly off balance as Levy practically dragged you by hand through the building showing you where everything was before taking you to a bar area in the main hall where a small, old man sat on the counter next to a tall, muscled man with orange hair completely slicked back who wore a high collared black cloak that covered most of his body except for his left hand and leg which looked like they were covered with armor.

Levy introduced the bigger one as Gildarts Clive, whom everyone in the guild affectionately referred to as the “old man”, and explained that the smaller of the two was their guild master, Makarov.

After introducing yourself to both of them, they both smile wickedly and turn their backs to you before carrying out a conversation in hushed whispers, which does nothing to ease your nervousness, although Levy just looks at the two with embarrassment.

They soon turn back to face you with stern, disappointed looks before the one called Makarov cleared his throat and began speaking.

“Now, young man, you claim you want to join our guild, but we get requests from mages to join our guild all the time, but we turn most of them down. Do you know why that is?”

“Umm…” you nervously stutter in response.

“The answer my boy is commitment! I remember when it took guts and a backbone before someone could properly call himself or herself a mage. Nowadays, you kids think a few small magic tricks makes you a mage. All that makes you is a parlor trick magician, and ‘mages’ like that have no place in our guild. If you are a genuine mage, you gotta be willing to work at it from the bottom up. No matter how hellish the treatment is, you gotta take it all with a grin on you face and beg for more before you earn the right to even think about being called a mage by us. Think you can live with that, you brat?”

You proceed to nervously rock your head up and down as fast as you can. You swear Makarov’s demonic smile grows even more sinister…