Wilting Flowers

14: The Clock Doesn't Stop

"Wha- Grim?"

Immy looked at Grim, stunned by his actions.

"I'm- I'm sorry. Let's go home, yeah." Grim turned away and looked at the ground in shame. He began walking.

"Wrong way." Immy huffed.

"Right- erm-"

He took a step back and waited for Immy to start heading in a direction. She sighed and turned around.

"Come on."

Shit- why'd I do that? He wondered, following her. He had pushed her and swore at her. Grim was just as stunned as Immy when he'd done it. Not to mention he had already lied to her, even if it was for her own good.

I'm gonna lose her, and I act like that?

Guilt clawed at his chest.

Immy had stopped the cracking, but his panic attack hadn't blown over fully- all he could really do was internalize the emotions.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have done that." He apologized under his breath.

"I'm fine. I'm more worried for you than mad." She whispered it back, as if the words were a secret held within her.

The rest of the walk back was in mutual silence. The cold, melancholy air of the void filled Grim with even more sorrow.

The warmth and light of his- their home made him sigh in relief.

He shut the door behind them both and locked it.

He hadn't considered his house a home since he was in reaping school. That changed when Immy filled it with her radiance and charm.

He wouldn't have that for long.

He fought back tears and sat on the couch. His face began to ache again.

Fuck, fuck- No!

Grim scratched at his eyes and grunted, his panic only worsening the cracking. He choked a sob.

The pain felt as though someone had taken a knife and carved the cracks into his skull. The wretched noise of it rang through his mind.

He felt Immy sit down next to him. She did nothing.

Out of fear. I scared her. She doesn't know how to comfort me now. He thought.

"Um- so I'm guessing it didn't go well?" Immy stammered.

"What?" He sniffed, looking over at her.

"The- uh- therapist appointment. Did something happen?"

God, only if you knew.

"I... I guess you could say that, yeah. Just- processed some things. I'll be fine."

"No you won't! Stop saying that when you know it's not true!" Immy blurted, tears welling up in her eyes. "...Those crack things- did they get bigger?"

"Y-yeah. My body sometimes takes mental stress and turns it physical. Y'know- magic. Happened to all of the skeletons in my family."

"Damn- so... when you screamed before, was that-"

"Yeah. It's hell."

"Oh god."

"God can't help me."

"Um- I don't know what to do. How- how do I-"

"-Help me? There's not much you can do. Distraction works. Just keep talking."