IGNITE

thirty-three

੭୧ 𝐩𝐢𝐩𝐞𝐫 ੭୧

I sat on the couch, my eyes glued to the windows as leaves softly fell outside, the sky darkening as dusk set in. It was quiet, the soft hum of the TV the only thing interrupting the silence in the living room. The coffee table in front of me was littered with snacks, ranging from Jell–o to cookies, courtesy of Kai.

The house was warm, and I leaned back into the cushions, allowing them to swallow me up and give me some reprieve from the aching throb that seemed to take up residence in the base of my skull. Despite the fact that my ribs had significantly improved in the two weeks that I had been home, the constant sitting was enough to send my brain into a fit of rage as I struggled to keep still, desperate to keep myself from doing further damage to my injuries.

My gaze was still fixed on the windows, watching the light slowly disappear from the sky and leave me with the stars, when the front door opened.

The sound of footsteps grew closer, until I turned and found Grey walking into the house, his face a stoic mask of indifference as he strode down the hallway and slipped into his bedroom.

Grey had only spoken to me once since I had come home, and even then he hadn't even bothered to look at me. The interaction was less than a minute, and the most words that passed between us had been 'I'm glad you're okay', with me responding with 'thank you.'

His behaviour didn't make sense to me, his distant attitude and refusal to talk to me hurt worse than any injury I could have sustained from the crash. He'd barely even been at the house since we got home, his presence more a memory than a reality, and it was killing me inside.

The idea that Grey wanted nothing to do with me made my chest ache, a hollow, empty feeling replacing my heart, the emptiness settling into the base of my soul.

My hands trembled as I struggled to my feet, the throbbing pain radiating from my ribs through every muscle, every bone. The house was suddenly too cold, and I found myself stumbling into my bedroom in search of a sweater.

Bracing my hands on my dresser, I struggled to catch my breath, knocking down a picture of my brothers and I in the process, the glass shattering at my feet as it landed face down on the wood floor. "Of course," I breathed, crouching to clean up the mess when my entire body protested the action, pain erupting across my torso, forcing me onto my back as a whimper left my lips. "Crap."

I had only a moment to catch my breath and steady the racing of my heart before realizing that I was stuck. My hands were too shaky, my entire body too weak and exhausted, my pain too intense to stand on my own. "Grey?" I called, hoping he was near enough to hear me, that he cared enough to help me.

The door to my bedroom slowly opened, and Grey stepped inside, his face twisted in confusion as his eyes darted from the broken frame to me, helpless, on the floor. "What the hell happened, Piper?" He was by my side in a second, his touch featherlight on my body as he assessed me for new injuries.

"I was cold so I came to get a sweater, and then I broke the frame, and then I tried to get it, but it hurt so...I'm stuck." The words left me in a rushed breath, stumbling over each other. I could feel tears brim in my eyes, frustration welling inside me—a wave of fury, of pain and confusion.

Grey's eyes softened for a fraction of a second before hardening again just as quickly. "Stay still, I'll clean it up." I watched him clean up the mess I made in silence, the emptiness I had felt moments ago replaced by a new, bitter sensation. "You can't be moving around like this on your own." His voice was hard as he reached over my head to put the frame back in its spot on the dresser, his gaze flickering to me.