Grim and Mory

Chapter 6

The instant Mory is back in her apartment, she dashes from room to room turning the lights on. She doesn't want even a corner of shadow, not now. Not ever again. Twice now she has been attacked, helpless to do anything substantial about it. So if she couldn't beat the shadows, she would avoid them at all cost. She is busy turning the light on in the bathroom when she hears Grim sigh.

"You're safe here, Mory," he tries to soothe her.

Mory purses her lips, not in the mood to talk. Sure, she was grateful he had saved her, but he was hiding something. He has always been evasive--steering the conversations away from the shadows, why he has chosen her, and what he does while he is away. She would chalk it up to his desire to separate himself from his work, so gain some sense of normalcy. Now she knew it was purposeful. She is being kept in the dark, and she--quite literally--is sleeping with the lights on for the rest of her life. "Doesn't hurt to be cautious," she snips. She then turns on her heel, locking herself in her room.

Mory jumps into bed, fighting with the comforter as it tangles around her legs. She kicks it onto the floor after several minutes of struggling, fighting back tears. Everything bubbles up inside her all at once: anger, fear, disappointment, confusion. Mory takes pride in her ability to learn, the ease in which she can adapt herself to a situation. But this was all too much; she almost died tonight. Again. Mory angrily swipes her cheeks, her eyes tearing up against her volition. She needs a break from the constant stress, the constant feeling of not belonging. She doesn't belong in school, she doesn't belong with her classmates, and she doesn't belong with the shadows.

Mory has grown attached to Grim--maybe too much, she thinks to herself--but she doesn't belong with him either. He is distant and guarded, finding the smallest diversions to evade answering just what he is doing in Mory's life. He might appear like he is assimilating, that he is understanding and acting like a human, but it could all be a facade. She doesn't know him, not truly: not his past or his present. The thought breaks her heart, a new wave of heartache threatening to overwhelm her. She has grown used to him in the apartment, puttering away at different machines, a welcoming face when she wakes up in the morning. Yet, with every gleeful greeting there is an evasive answer, a watchful eye. It's as if Grim remains in order to gain something from her. Not being able to trust him, not understanding why or what he is hiding, makes her sick to her stomach.

Mory lays back in bed, taking deep breaths to calm down. Crying has made her thirsty, but she doesn't want Grim to know. She gets up begrudgingly, going to her closet. She changes out of her party clothes and into her favorite fluffy pajama bottoms and a worn tank top. Wearing normal clothes makes her feel a little better, a little closer to her normal skin. She scrubs her eyes with the palms of her hands, hoping it's not obvious how upset she is. Her anger hasn't dissipated, leaving her irritated and agitated. She hasn't decided how she is going to talk to Grim, if she even wants to see him right now. Everything is too much, so much, all at once. She just wants a glass of water and then a good nights sleep. It was too much to ask for, apparently, because Grim is in the doorway to the kitchen as soon as Mory had turned on the water dispenser.

"Are you angry with me?" Grim asks bluntly, never the one for delicacy. There is hurt in his voice that Mory takes great effort to ignore. She isn't going to stop being angry because he got his feelings hurt.

"Yes." Mory puts the water down and crosses her arms, staring him down. "Is that a problem for you? Is your experiment not allowed to be angry with you?"

Grim gapes at her, taken aback. "Mory, you're not an experiment." He is gentle, a startling loneliness lining his words. He takes a step towards her, stopping when his movement is met with further tension in her shoulders.