tricks of time ― grayson hawthorne [the inheritance games]

020. WHO ARE YOU?

That smell of cologne and beer. I fit in against his body perfectly, my head level with his shoulder. I was dizzy and I needed to lay down but everything was blurring and spinning together and I couldn't see straight. I laid my cheek on his chest. He wrapped one arm around my back. His other hand slid down to my butt.

I couldn't figure out how to tell him to stop.

He tilted my face up to his. He kissed me, man kiss, hard sweet and deep. The kiss nearly knocked me off my feet. He kissed me again.His teeth ground hard against my lips. It was hard to breathe.

I was on the ground and he was on top of me. His lips lock once again on mine and I can't say anything. I twist my head away. Is he a boulder?

Shirt up.

Shorts down.

The world feels dark.

The world feels cold.

Then he leaves me there on the floor.

I need to scream I need to scream I need to scream.

I can't and why does the world feel like it's collapsing and why can't I get out of here?

I need help and I think everyone's forgotten about me and I can't understand why nobody is coming to help me.

And I'm dying but maybe not; maybe I'm dreaming.

I'm dreaming, aren't I?

How do I get out of here?

Oh my god oh my god oh my god I can't get out of my head and I'm trapped in here and nobody knows and nobody is coming to save me.

I am on my own.

A jolt and I'm awake. My eyes snap open, and both me and the sheets are covered in a cold sweat. I'm shaking and my heart is pounding out of my chest.

I sit up and look around the room, suspicious and paranoid that the horror of James may have followed me out of my head and out here. I get up cautiously, shivering. It had already been almost two weeks since James had...done that. But I couldn't get him out of my head. He was everywhere.

I stumble to the bathroom and I look in the mirror slowly and cautiously, not sure of what exactly I'll see. The moon shines bright through the window, and it doesn't wash away the vestiges of the horror.

I jump when I think I see a shadow. He's here. James is here. I know it. I can feel it.

I start running down the corridor. I'm think going crazy.

Grayson emerges out of nowhere and I bump straight into his chest; a hard wall of skin to me. His eyes catch mine. I looked over at him with my lips parted and I stare blankly at him for a few moments. Then, I quickly turn on my heel and stumbled away on my feet.

"Hey," he called out, taking my wrist in his hand to stop me from moving away from him. "Leah, you okay?" He asked me when I turned to look at him. Grayson's expression was intense, everything in him focused on me.

"Am I okay?" I asked back while Grayson took probably notice of how glossed over my eyes were. "Am I okay?" I accompanied my question with laughter this time. "Oh my god, Grayson," I looked to either side of me as I sigh escaped my lips. "I need to go-" A strangled sob that left my throat interrupted my sentence. Grayson was shocked when I turned back to look at him with tears in my eyes. I could tell by his expression. I'd only ever cried in front of him once, and that was because I was talking to Alisa, not him. I'd never cried directly in front of him.

I felt myself leaning backwards and I felt him slip an arm around my waist to hold me up. When he did this, he must've felt me struggle in his grasp, squirming as actual silent tears spilled down my cheeks. "Jesus, Leah, just— relax, alright? Breathe, come on, breathe."

However, I'm not as vunreable as I usually am today. Right now, I'm mad. I'm scared. But the anger is flowing through me like molten hot lava and I feel energized: I feel alive.

"Breathe with you? Get your hands off of me first," I fume. I clutch his shirt, realizing he isn't going to let go of me. I push him away and he drops my wrist. But then I see a flare of anger surge through him and he grabbed my wrist again and wrenched it away from my face. "That hurts, Grayson," I say. The tears in my eyes had dried out and had been replaced with panic.

"Believe me, I know what hurts and what doesn't." He glowered as he tightened his grip on my wrist. "You think you're so much better than me, huh?"

"Get off me, Grayson!"

He realized what he was doing and let go of my wrist, as well as removed his hold around me. He kept his eyes on me as I cradled my wrist against my chest and rubbed it with my other hand. My eyebrows pinched together.

"You know, I have you all figured out, Leah? I know what you are. You're a dam. That's what you are." He licked his lips. "And when I break through that concrete, and trust me— I will, I'll destroy you. You know I will."

His eyes are piercing when I meet his eyes again, disgust clear on my face. "Who even are you, Grayson Hawthorne? Who are you?"

He doesn't speak, so I do instead. "Grabbing me like this? Torturing me with your words and harassing me for everything I do? Hating every fiber of my being? Who are you? What is that pretty show you put on for the rest of the world? The perfect boy with the face that is too pretty? What..." I trail off. I'm so pissed the words I have memorized about him aren't coming to me.

"What is all that? Is this the real you? Is this how you really are? Because if it is, Grayson, you should be ashamed of yourself. You're all kinds of fucked up."

authors note

n/a

word count: 1067 words