"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.
"Immy," He murmured. "Look at me, and take another step."
Her glossy eyes met his. She stepped down with a pained expression. Then, the other foot stepped. Just like that, she was down a second stair.
"Good." Grim smiled slightly. "It's all okay."
Immy shook her head and sniffed. "No. I hate this."
He sighed. "I know. I'm sorry."
He let her take a breather.
"Together?" She asked.
"Of course," Grim assured her.
"Go slowly, please."
He nodded and counted down.
"Three, two, one."
Immy drew in a breath as they stepped down simultaneously. She looked down the railing.
"Don't look down." He squeezed her hand. "Keep looking at me, okay? Three, two, one."
Another stair. It seemed Immy was gaining confidence, which Grim was thankful for. He didn't think he could take another fight, and she couldn't take another scare.
"Three, two, one."
And another! He was ecstatic, but couldn't help the feeling that it was going too well.
"Three, two, one. Amazing!" He exclaimed, grinning at her. She cracked a smile as well. "Three, two, one."
This step was easy, Immy practically did it on her own. Good news! Grim thought. Maybe she'll go back to normal.
He should have known better. That this wouldn't happen so easily.
"Three, two, one."
They took another step down, but Immy misplaced her footing and stumbled into the railing. Grim almost fell backwards, but stopped himself by holding onto his side of the railing. Still, he struggled, because silk doesn't stick to wood.
When they had both regained their bearings, Immy stared off the rail once more. She glanced to the top of the stairs.
No point in that, we're too far down.
Looking back down, Immy must've realized this, because panic set in quickly. Grim watched her face turn to horror.
"Immy," He soothed. "Look at me. No use in that, it'll just make you more scared."
Her eyes seemed to look miles away. She didn't react to him.
"Immy."
He got closer and placed a hand on her shoulder. Nothing.
Sighing, he turned her head to look at him. She gazed back silently.
He could imagine the kiss vividly. In his mind, he thought it would solve all his problems. The present Grim had more sense than that.
I should teleport her down.
I can't. She's made so much progress!
Is it worth it? This has gotta be scarring for her.
But it'll all be for nothing.
Who cares! Look at her, she can't handle it.
She can.
He brushed her hair behind her ear and ran his fingers across it.
"Immy," He said, his tone grave. "Do you think you can deal with this?"
She looked down.
"Genuinely, I want to know," He pushed.
She shook her head, trembling. She looked off the rail again, her hair blocking her face.
"Immy."
He took her face in both hands and looked at the tears welling in her eyes. She tried to cover them again, but her efforts were futile. She sobbed.
That was what did it. Grim wrapped her arms around Immy and teleported to the living room.
Despite knowing she would no longer descend the steps, Immy stayed in his arms, weeping.
Grim pulled her to the couch and sat down, waiting for her to do the same. Instead, she climbed into his lap.
Shit—
Grim was not anywhere near prepared for that.
He was burning again.
Scorching flames lapped at him from all sides. He slowly drew in a breath, letting the lavender fill his lungs. He had come to relish the feeling.
The sensation was smothered out. He came to his senses.
He rested a hand on her back, trying to gauge what she was thinking. She buried her face in his shoulder, muffling her sobs.
He crooned to her, rubbing his hand back and forth.
"Grim—" She choked out.
"What is it?" He spoke softly.
She looked up at him and opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, but clamped her jaw shut quickly, looking back down.
"You can tell me," He insisted.
"...I'm so sorry."
"I'm so sorry." He whispered. He pulled away and nudged Grim forward. Grim, confused, walked up to the platform.
Grim froze a little at her words before shaking himself of them.
"For what?" He asked.
"I'm acting like a goddamn child, Grim! Aren't you annoyed?" She cried, gathering the fabric of his hoodie in her hands.
"No," He hushed. "Of course not."
Immy stared at him, her eyes narrowing.
"Why not?"
"Because you're trying to challenge deep anxiety every day," Grim answered. "I know that's awful. However irrational they are, your fears still exist." He wrapped both his arms around her torso. "And that's okay."
Immy sniffed and attempted to dry her face.
"I'm tired," She whispered.
"I know, baby. I know."
More tears came and she returned her face to his hoodie. Her body shook with every sob that came out of her.
He refrained from asking her any more questions.
Grim tossed and turned in his bed for the millionth night in a row.
He had every reason to get up. Immy was out in the living room, probably doing the same thing he was. He was desperate to be there, next to her, even if he wouldn't sleep. She needed the support, at least.
She had sobbed in his arms for a bit, but she didn't leave when she stopped. She stayed there, unmoving. He was beginning to think she had fallen asleep, but she spoke.
"You stayed home!"
The words came out as a weak laugh. Of course he did. That much was necessary.
When he saw her passed out, clutching a pillow, he knew it was a problem. This was reinforced by her red cheeks and eyes.
He thought he wouldn't talk about it with her, because she obviously wouldn't want to. He'd just give her any support she needed. It was the only thing he really could do at the time.
When she never got up, Grim knew he had to.
Now, he was worried sick over her.
He wanted to make her happy, more than anything. The bucket list was still on his nightstand.
Star Wars, done.
Dragon fruit, easy.
Butterfly sanctuary, done.
Cocktails, seven more to go.
Absinthe, done.
Arcade, easy.
Cat cafe—maybe not the best idea anymore. Think over with her.
Library, one at HQ. Easy.
Lucy, in progress.
Parents, in progress.
Am I missing anything? He wondered, going over the list over and over.
There was a knock at his door, startling him.
"Come in," He enunciated, sitting up in bed and turning on his lamp.
The door creaked.
Grim watched Immy walk in. He waited for her to speak.
She didn't, and Grim almost thought she was sleepwalking.
"What is it?" He asked, shooting her a smile.
"Um... I'm not sure," She laughed awkwardly. "I don't know why I even came, honestly."
Grim snickered at her. His face formed a sly grin.
"Not sure, or just flustered?" He asked, unsure of what possessed him to be so confident.
Her lack of response gave him more of an answer than a real one would. He took his gloves off his nightstand and pulled them on.
He got out from under the blankets, instead sitting on top of them. He scooted over and patted the space beside him.
All the air left his body as he saw her eyes light up. She crawled in next to him and sat criss-cross on the bed.
He tried to hide his utter desperation to touch her, but she intertwined their hands. Suddenly, it didn't matter.
He pulled her closer, sighing.
Immy resumed her position in his lap—something she had apparently grown fond of, and Grim swore internally for ever even considering holding her in such a way. He ached.
Once more, he thought of kissing her. Of course, this would be the perfect setting. The setting didn't really matter anymore, as long as she was the one who haunted the thoughts.
She looked at him with eyes that drew him further into the hell of his own design. He made a mental note to kick himself for being such a fool when he was alone.
His hands were trembling with want.
He took deep breaths, knowing that Immy would know if his thoughts wandered any further.
Their faces were dangerously close together, leaving little room for error on his part. Hoping to gain a safer distance, he took her face into his hands and gently pushed her farther back.
"What if I just—" Immy cut herself off, her eyes widening.
"What?"
She shook her head in response.
"No," She breathed. "I couldn't. It doesn't matter."
Grim took her word for it and didn't ask, although he longed to. Instead, he asked a different question.
"...Having trouble sleeping?" He laughed, his voice breathy.
Immy smiled.
"Guess so," She mumbled. Her cheeks warmed.
His hands moved to her hair.
Immy sighed and mumbled something he couldn't quite hear. Her eyes fluttered closed.
"Hm?"
"I love you."
Grim froze, the words shocking him.
"I— I love you," He replied.
She loves me.
Of course she does. She has for years.
But it's different. The context adds a whole new meaning.
Don't overthink it. She loves me. It doesn't have to be romantic.
It felt romantic. Grim was struggling to comprehend why.
To his fear and utter delight, Immy's body pressed against his even closer.
"Immy—"
His hands slid towards the back of her head, intertwining with her hair.
While her face remained a safe distance, Grim had a dangerously strong urge to close the gap between them.
He begged himself not to think about kissing her more than he already had. This was already torture, why terrorize himself any more?
The thoughts still came. He let his head fall back against the wall.
"Are you sleepy?" Immy asked.
Grim didn't respond, scared she would take it as a cue to leave.
"...Not very," He finally answered.
"Don't you have work tomorrow?"
"I do," Grim laughed. "Aren't you going to the cafe tomorrow?"
"Yeah. You need sleep, or...?"
"I'll be okay. Sleep deprivation is a small price to pay."
Immy smiled.
"Price to pay for what?" She asked.
"Being with you, sleep be damned." He pulled his hands out of her hair. "Assuming, of course, that's what you're suggesting."
The smile turned into a grin.
"You talk about it like it's some big deal," She spoke.
"It feels like it. Want a cocktail?"
"Of course."
Grim hated that the morning came.
His screeching alarm went off at the same time it always did, 6:30. It felt so much sooner than normal. Maybe it was because he hadn't actually slept until three hours ago.
He had crossed four more cocktails off the list, now he only needed another three.
Turning off his alarm, he sat up in bed. He glanced over at Immy, who was bundled up as if it were snowing. Scarf, jacket, winter gloves—of course, it was just for safety. Upon closer examination, she was shaking.
Grim got out of bed and walked to the other side of the room, trying to see her face. He couldn't no matter the angle. She was curled into a ball, and her arms hid her.
She whimpered something.
He shook her shoulder as gently as he could.
"Immy," He murmured.
She looked up, her eyes wide.
"Nightmare?"
She nodded.
"Which one?"
"It's new," She breathed.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
"No."
"Okay. Can you go to work today?"
She thought for a moment and shook her head.
Grim sighed and patted her shoulder.
"I'll call you out. I can't stay, you know."
Immy nodded and closed her eyes.
He was scared. Terrified, even. He hoped her mental state wouldn't worsen in the time he was gone.
I don't have much time. I'm running out of time and she feels awful. Goddammit, why is this so hard? She's not happy. I need her to live happily.
He shoved the panic out of his mind and looked up at the clock. He swore and proceeded to his door.
"I love you," Immy called.
Grim turned the words over in his mind, as if a new perspective would make them joyful.
"I love you too," He replied.
~~~
END OF ACT II BITCHESSSSS
I BREEZED THROUGH THIS ACT FR I'M HOPING TO FINISH THE BOOK BEFORE JULY
WISH ME LUCK FOLKS!!! HAPPY ST PATRICKS DAY
IF SOMEONE TRIES TO PINCH YOU, BITCH SLAP
-Alice/Craz <3