Grace
Dropping my luggage onto the hotel room floor near the bathroom I kick off my shoes and put them onto the plastic, see-through boot mate. Following behind me was Will, and I could hear him let out a grunt as he drops his own bags onto the ground near my own. Bending down I zip open one of my suitcases, rummaging through it until I find a loose fitting t-shirt and some baggy shorts.
Heading into the bathroom I shut the door, quickly stripping out of the clothes I've been wearing for a day and a half. Putting on the outfit I had picked I step out of the bathroom and through my dirty clothes into the laundry hamper that stood beside the Mahogany desk that looked more like dining room table.
When I finally look up, taking in my surroundings for the first time, I notice that I'm standing in the average hotel room. Instead, I was standing in the entry way of what could've been a mansion. To my right I expected to see a kitchen, but in its place was a spiral stair case, and it was only going up. On the walls hung different types of mirrors and couple of paintings that most likely cost a fortune.
I walk around I see a whole bunch of interesting things. Like in the lower level there were two big flat screens; one for the living area and the other for the kitchen. I counted three closets, one bathroom, and two guest rooms on the bottom floor. But when I stepped up the stair case, I find out there's so much more that this place has to offer.
Finding my way wasn't that hard on the upper level as the only thing up here was the master bedroom. In the middle of the room was the bed that looked to be a king and could fit six people, maybe even eight. I knock on the bathroom door before entering, wanting to make sure Will's not in it first, and when I don't get a response, I crack open the door.
Letting out a short gasp, I take everything in. The bathroom was huge! Inside was a shower that had see through walls on two sides, could fit maybe five people, and a bath that looked more that a hot tub. The sink had two places at it for two people, and lying on the counter was the complimentary bar of soaps, four bottles of shampoo, and four bottles of conditioner; but of course they were all fun size.
The toilet was average, but had this weird button on the side that at first I thought was the flusher, but was actually the seat warmer. In the wall was square window, and when to look at the view, I had to step back in fright because of how high up we were. The hotel almost had as many floors as the Empire State Building.
When I'm done checking out the bathroom, I head out and see that the two, gate-like doors to the walk-in closet were open. Peering inside, I find Will standing there, hanging up his clothes on the hangers. I honestly didn't see the point of wanting to hang your clothes up, but I guess I'm just lazy that way.
The floor beneath my feet is cold, and glancing down I see white marble tiles instead of hard wooden flooring or carpet. Wiggling my toes, wondering if I should paint them or not, when Will speaks for the first time since we've got off the plane.
"I brought your luggage up while you were checking out the place, just in case you wanted to hang them up or something." He tells me, and first I'm confused, but then he catches on to my confusion and points over to the corner in the closet where my two suitcases are.
I purse my lips, glancing between my stuff and Will. "You didn't have to that. I could have just done it myself."
For a second I thought we weren't going to argue and that maybe things can go back to how they were before this whole situation started, but then his jaw clenches I know there's no possibility of that happening.
"You can't just say thanks?!" He asks, barking his words out loudly.
I cringe, gazing back down at my feet, trying to find the right thing to say. " ... I'm sorry... Okay? What do you want me to say, William? A thank you?"
He shrugs, listening, but still hanging things up. "Yeah. I'd just like to hear a thank you once and a while."
"Well then thank you, William! But I'm not handicapped, and I can get my own shit!" I yell at him, glad there are two floors to this Suite.
He turns around, facing me. "I was just trying to be nice! But, no! You, Grace Thompson, can't take a fucking favor! Because if you do, you feel like a damn charity case! But maybe you are charity case!"
I feel a painful pang against my chest, but ignore as I glare at him. "Yeah, I am! I'm a goddamn charity case who feels like she's only bringing you down! I don't want your money! I don't your help!"
"If you don't want anything do with me, then why don't you just go?" He asks, sounding both sad and angry at the same time. "The doors waiting!"
"That's perfectly fine with me! Adios, Reed." I say, ripping one of his jackets off the hanger and holding it under my arms as I walk away from him and towards the stair case.
My bare feet slap against the floor as I walk, my emotions running wild inside of me. My hands were clammy, my face was hot from suppressed frustration, and all I wanted to do now was punch something. I also wanted to eat an entire pepperoni pizza, curl up on a couch and watch horror movie. I just wanted to forget about everything.
The pain hurt like hell. I didn't want to feel it. Wishing it away wouldn't help. And I could always cry, but I still didn't want do that either.
Everything is just so screwed up!
Why can't my life be normal? Happy?
Everything that had happened over the last two days had just left me exhausted. Completely drained of energy. In the back of my mind, the crazy part of my mind, told me I could just blame this all on Will. But it wasn't all just him. It was me, too. I couldn't even remember why we had started arguing in the first place.
As I come out of my thoughts, about to step down onto the stairs, I hear Will call my name.
"Grace!" He shouts, and I stop, sucking in a deep breath.
Maybe I should go. If he just wants to fight some more, I'm not interested.
"Grace...," he repeats, and this time it sounds more like a plea. "Grace .... Grace, please don't go."
Tears well up in my eyes, but I don't them fall. Balling my hands up into fists, I try and think of what to do. But nothing came to mine; I couldn't think. The only thoughts I had were of him and I yelling the other day. And then the good parts over came the negative. They were like flashes, coming back to me like scenes from a movie.
"Your laugh."
I look at him, confused. "My what?"
"Your laugh; it's one of the things I like about you. You laugh and it makes me imagine hot summer's day, relaxing at the beach." He explains, and my eyes widen in realization.
"And your smile. When you smile, Grace Thompson, I completely forget about my troubles. About the things I was worrying about. You make me happy."
And those were just the bits and pieces that my brain showed me. And then it skipped. It skipped to me.
"Will, I'm right here. And running away from me, from what you don't want to talk about, isn't going to do you any justice."
I couldn't out run my problems. I couldn't run from them, and I certainly couldn't run away from Will. I had no idea what I was going to say to him when I turned around to face him, though. He looked at me, with begging eyes. And suddenly, I knew exactly what to say.
"Your eyes." I tell him, taking slow steps towards him. He looks confused for a second, but then finally gets where I am going, just like I expected him too. "I like your eyes, maybe even love them. I look into your eyes, William Reed, and I see the moon. Looking into those big, shinning, gray eyes of yours reminds me that I'm not alone. And when they twinkle in the light, I think of the stars.
Your warm, like the sun, but the moon describes you better. I like to think of you as a guiding light; like a light house. You save me, remind me that I'm not alone, and that what I've gone through, isn't all for nothing. I've seen a lot of people live, but I've also seen a lot of people die as well. I have no family. But I have you. You're my friend, maybe even my best friend, and you're also my guiding light. I have no home. But with you, in that apartment, I have a home. And maybe someday home will become a person, instead of four walls. You're the moon, Will. And I really, really like the moon."
"Grace...," he says, his voice coming out just above a whisper. There's tears in both of our eyes, and I realize now that I'm standing right in front of him.
He reaches up with his hands, placing them on my cheeks and then pulling me close. Myarms fall around him, and he plants a kiss to my forehead. Looking up, he looks down, and our lips are only a centimeter apart. We both close the distance instantly, letting our lips touch, but never letting it become a full on kiss. Our lips just linger against the others, brushing together and then falling apart to only meet in the middle again.
I pull away first, looking him in the eye. "I'm sorry."
He nods, a hint of blush creeping up onto his cheeks. "I'm sorry, too. I was cranky and upset, and I shouldn't have taken my frustrations out on you."
"Its okay-"
"No, no its not okay. I was being the bad guy."
"And I was being the bag girl. I was being stubborn and uncooperative."
"We'll never get anything done."
"Were totally screwed up."
"Well, then let's be totally screwed up, together."
And maybe that's how it was meant to be between us. Maybe we were supposed to totally screwed up. Our whole relationship was based on an agreement. But maybe, it could it more than just an agreement?
I feel like is a filler. But it's probably not. As we get closer to chapter twenty, you'll start to see both Will and Grace come to terms with the agreement that they had laid out. They start having thoughts of "It was just supposed to be an agreement, nothing else." and "It could be more than just an agreement, right?"
I might take a short break, but only for a day, to figure out how the rest of the story should play out. I saw this quote on Pintrest the other day, and went a little like this: "If your characters have to kiss for you to feel likes it true love, then you're not doing it right."
And I feel like I'm doing that. If I am, please tell me.
~xoxo Alexa