Recovery

Chapter 21

"I'll be there in a minute," I call, tossing my razor under the bed. I grab a dirty shirt and pressing it to my wrist to try and stop the bleeding. It works for a moment, but then the bleeding starts again. I curse under my breath, and press my other hand to the wound.

"Grace, I'm getting worried. Let me in," Avery says, knocking on the door again.

"Patience is a virtue," I retort, a bit annoyed. Why is he even here. I thought he wanted nothing to do with me now.

I lift my hand, and notice my palm has blood covering it. I groan and press my palm back to the cut. Its so shallow, why is it bleeding so much?

I take a deep breath and unlock the door, before crossing my arms over my chest and going to sit on my bed.

"Come in," I say, praying that he doesn't notice.

He opens the door and looks around suspiciously, before his gaze falls on me.

"Hey," he quietly says, an air of awkwardness surrounding us due to the events earlier today.

And by events, I mean me trying to kiss him in an act of stupidity, and being promptly rejected.

"Hey," I reply, my voice quieter than his, if that's possible.

"Look I'm so-" we both start simultaneously, before snapping our mouths closed.

"Let me go first," I say. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you in that position, I was just sad and having a bad week and I didn't really think about what I was doing. I promise that's all it was. Really. It will never happen again."

An indeterminable emotion flashes over his features, but its gone before I can place my finger on it. A hardened expression takes its place.

"Its okay. I just wanted to say I'm sorry I reacted so poorly- I'll still help you with Trigger if you want me to," he quietly replies, his voice almost monotonous. Who spit in his coffee?

I ignore his expression and flash him a smile.

"Thank you so much!" I squeal, wrapping my arms around him in a hug- its not until after I've already made the mistake that I realize what I'm doing. I quickly recoil and cover my wrist- but he's already seen it.

He snatches my injured wrist from me and examines it, his face turning red in anger.

"What the hell Grace?" he snaps, throwing my hand down again. I flinch- he never callse me Grace, always Grey. He must be mad.

"It was an honest mistake, I swear," I reply defensively.

"Yeah right," he snorts.

"It was! I was considering cutting, but I changed my mind at the last minute- and then you knocked on the door and scared the shit out of me. The razor slipped! I didn't mean to," I hastily explain, rubbing my wrist.

"Back up a minute- why were you considering cutting?" he asks, his voice softening a degree or two.

"I've- had a bad week," I whisper, reaching up to grab my locket, an action he notices but doesn't question.

"Was it because of me?" His voice sounds remorseful, almost scared.

"Oh yeah- I get rejected and decide to go slash my wrist. No, mister self-involved, it wasn't because of you," I snap, offended that he thinks that little of me. "I have had a really bad week. Stuff happened back home that I'm not happy with and can't do anything about. Ivy hates me. And then I thought I'd have to stop training Trigger. I was stressed- I had a momentary lapse. But I didn't go up to my room with the intention to slash my wrist because of a little rejection. You forget that I've been through a lot."