Wilting Flowers

29: I Know. I'm Sorry.

"Grim," Immy protested. "I can't. I told you, I already tried." She looked back and forth at his face and his hand.

"I know," He responded. "Trust me, this'll do better. I'm sure of it."

Grim was not sure of it. The only thing he could be sure of is that he could provide at least a little comfort to her. In the end, it wouldn't matter. Grim was still about to break her down.

She took a deep breath in and took his hand.

"I'll try," She muttered, allowing him to pull her to the stairs.

He paused at the top and took both of Immy's hands into his own.

"You know I love you, right?" He glided his thumb across her palm.

"Yes?"

"And that I would never do anything that I thought would harm you?"

"Yes...?"

Thank god, He thought. Hope that doesn't change after this. It's for the best, but...

"Good."

He took a step down and squeezed her hand. Her other arm, the one in the cast, searched for the railing. When she found it, her knuckles went white as she gripped it. Slowly, she lowered her foot down.

Her eyes widened and she attempted to pull herself back up.

"Immy. Immy, wait—" Grim stopped her and went down another step.

She tried to go up, only for Grim to clutch her hand tighter, pulling her back down.

Pure fear flooded her face as she stared at him. She was caught.

Grim took a deep breath. I'm sorry, He thought.

"Let go of me," She laughed anxiously. "Seriously, let go." She pulled his hand.

"Take another step, Immy."

"No, I'm tired. I'm going back to my room."

"No, you're not."

"Yes, I am," She insisted. "Let go."

"Another step."

"No."

Grim sighed and took another step himself. He pulled on her arm.

"Stop," Immy asserted, trying to get her hand out of his. She refused to budge.

"Another step, Immy."

"Shut up,"

"You're gonna be just fine, Immy. Come on."

"No."

"Immy."

He watched her breathing stop and then speed up drastically, the panic setting in.

Fight, flight, or freeze. Here was the hard part.

First came flight. She initially tried to run, but was stuck in his grasp.

Fight. She tried to pry his fingers away. He winced at the pain, but held his ground.

She alternated between the two for a solid minute before giving up.

Freeze. Despair set in. She gazed at the wall behind him, her body still tense.

Grim decided he hated this part most. She wasn't struggling; she was giving up. It made him feel sick.

He took a deep breath and pulled her a little more. She straightened up a bit.

Turning to face her fully, he took a gentler hand and place it on top of hers.