Perfectly Wrong | Grayson Dolan

14

Brooklyn

I could feel Grayson's gaze on me as we sat in my bed. I was doing my homework, and Grayson was keeping me company.

Glancing at my boyfriend, I smiled. "Why are you staring at me?"

"Because. I'm happy that you feel safe again. It was killing me to see you uncomfortable."

I leaned over, kissing Grayson's forehead. "I love you."

He smiled. "Look at you being all cute and open about your feelings. I love you too."

I smiled. "You bring out the best in me. I never felt safe enough to share those kinds of things with people until you came into my life. I'm so grateful. Obviously it's still difficult for me sometimes, but every step of the way is progress for me."

"That's right," he said. "And I'm proud of you, B."

Closing my eyes, I pressed my forehead against Grayson's. He kissed my nose, and then took my textbook and set it on the nightstand.

"Whatcha doing?" I asked as Grayson laid his head on my stomach, wrapping his arms around my waist as he laid on top of me.

"Using you as a pillow."

I ran my fingers through his hair as he pretended to fall asleep. "You are so cute," I said. "How did I get so lucky?"

"Brooklyn, you're the strongest and most resilient person I've ever met. You're so smart, and I've seen the way you pick yourself up and dust yourself off when things go wrong. You never let anything defeat you, and that amazes me every day. I don't know how you do it, but you do."

"Grayson, if it weren't for you, I would probably be out on the streets right now, just trying to hide from my father and his army of monsters. You gave me a place to go when I didn't have one. You put people in my corner that I never would've had if it wasn't for you. You gave me a place to feel safe, and people to feel safe around. You gave me a place to call home. When I used to live with my dad, I used to cry myself to sleep every night until one night when I was about thirteen or fourteen. Suddenly, I couldn't bring myself to cry anymore, and I simply couldn't feel anything. Then when I was fifteen—I. I was taken advantage of by someone my father knew. I tried to tell my dad, but he just told me it was all my fault. Even if he believed me, he didn't fucking care. That's why I started sleeping around in school, before you and I even met."

"Brooklyn, I'm so sorry that happened to you. It really wasn't your fault. At all. You can't blame yourself for someone else's perverse nature. You didn't deserve that, and I hope whoever did that to you is either rotting in jail, or six feet under."

"And there were a few times when he pushed me and I landed against the wall, or against the floor. He'd kick me when I was down every time, and he'd punch me in the face. I would lock myself in my room every day because I was scared he'd come home and snap again. It was like I couldn't escape because I had no where else to go. I could tell anyone, because every adult I knew only ever told me I was ungrateful for the only family I had left. Then I got a couple tattoos to cover up some bruising and some scars, and everyone at school acted like I was a terrible person. They judged me for never having a smile on my face, but if they only knew what I had been through, don't you think they'd realize that I didn't have a reason to smile? I had nowhere safe to go, and no one on my side. If my dad wasn't hurting me, he was always trying to control me, belittle me, or scare me. He came home drunk with a gun one night, and that's the night I left. A week later was when you found me. I was so scared that someone was going to turn me into the cops, and I'd get placed back into the hands of my father, or that I'd get placed into some shitty foster home. Then I met you, and you were the first to believe me, and the first to not judge me, and the first to make me feel welcome, and safe. I don't know what the hell I would've done if you never had found me. I didn't have a plan back then. You gave me hope when I needed it the most, and I'm always going to be grateful for that."

Grayson crawled up, gently kissing my lips as his hand cupped my face. "I love you so much, Brooklyn. I'll always be here for you, and I'll always do everything I can to keep you safe, and to make you happy."

I smiled. "You've been such a light in one of the darkest times of my life. When I decided on that tattoo, I knew it was because you, Grayson, were the light that guided me home. You're my person."

He kissed my nose again. "I'm so happy that you're my girl."

"I'm happy that you chose me."

"Wanna know when I knew I was in love with you?"

"Tell me," I said, giggling.

"We were watching a movie together, and it was probably like three in the morning. I had told myself I wasn't going to fall in love with you, but we were laughing so hard together, not even paying attention to the movie. Just talking. I realized how happy I was while hanging out with you, and I realized it was too late for me to stop myself from falling for you."

"Kylie brought it up to me one day because she told me that she had never seen two people look at each other the way you and I do. I realized she was right, and that no matter how emotionless I thought I was, or how anti-relationship I taught myself to be, all of that just vanished, and suddenly I knew I'd never felt this way about someone before."

Grayson smiled. "I've never felt this way about anyone either. Not until you."

Placing my hand on his cheek, I stroked my thumb back and forth. "Grayson, I love you to pieces."

He tightened his arms around my waist, giving me a warm hug. "I love you so much. Always, Brooklyn."

I kissed the top of his head before playing with his hair again. Grayson could've had any girl he wanted, yet he somehow picked me. I'll never understand, but I'll be eternally grateful.