ｃｈｒｙｓｓｉｅ

ｄａｒｋ

It was storming outside.

Chryssie could hear the thunder.

She tried to ignore it, sinking under the water and letting herself stay there until her lungs felt like they might burst from a lack of air.

Maybe just a minute longer -

And then she re-emerged, breathing heavily. She allowed herself to just breathe for a moment or two, gasps of air going into her lungs.

Stupid thoughts.

For a while, she just sat with her head between her knees, staring down at the few remaining bubbles, her hands in her damp hair. A soft sigh escaped her lips.

Maybe if she just ducked her head under once more...

In one swift moment, she had unplugged the bath, and the danger was gone as she stood up, feeling the water drain away from her. The frigid air hit her thin frame, clinging to the droplets that were sliding down her skin.

Reaching over, she took a towel and wrapped it around her shoulders, stepping out onto the mat. She dried off, then started to pull her clothes on.

Her fingers fumbled as she buttoned up her thin shirt. They were stiff with cold. Her hair was wet, dripping down her back. It soaked through the pale blue cotton.

Eventually, she got all of the buttons, walking out into the main room, where Grayson was writing something down in a small, black book.

"Oh good. You're out. How was your bath?" he asked, looking up at her, his pen not leaving the page that it was on.

"It was alright."

Though it would have been better if he hadn't came in halfway through.

Leaning over, she took a comb from her bag and starting to brush through her hair.

"I think that we'll change hotels after tomorrow. We've stayed in this one for much too long, and it's starting to look suspicious," Grayson remarked, patting at the bed next to him, beckoning her over.

"Alright," she murmured, sitting down beside him.

He closed the book that he was writing in, tucking it away in the drawer, then pulled her close. His nose pressed against her neck.

"You're so beautiful, Chrysanthemum."

"Am I?" she asked quietly, looking up at him. "There are a lot of girls prettier than me, Grayson. Why didn't you go after any of them?"

"Looks aren't everything. And they're all rotten on the inside," he replied smoothly.

"Not all people are like that."

"I know. You aren't. You're nice and sweet on the inside. Like a caramel chocolate."

She almost laughed at the comparison, pausing the raking of her hair.

"If I'm a caramel chocolate, then what are you?"

A smile graced his lips. "Poisoned."

She didn't reply to that, because it was true.

"It's storming like mad," she stated after an awkward few moments of silence, glancing out the window. The gutters were overflowing with water, crashing up onto the pavement. Rain clung to the panes of glass desperately, only to be forced off by bigger droplets.

"Aren't you scared?" Grayson asked, leaning over her shoulder to look out as well.

She gave a slight shake of her head.