September 30th, 2019
Sagittarius (Grayson) Horoscope:
You may have a very busy day ahead, but you might not be able to concentrate. Too many issues could churn up from the past. Old emotional traumas, money problems from years ago that still haunt you, even past dreams could be on your mind. Don't fight it. This is a healing process. Clear the psychic space to make way for more positive input.
——————
"What's he like?"
Sam paid little attention to your words, her blue eyes sparkling as she stared up at a lacy pink number that was quite a contrast to the glossy black mannequin that modeled it, "hmm?"
"Grayson, what's he like?"
The way you were fiddling aimlessly with a pair of underwear that was two sizes too small told your friend everything she needed to know about your state of mind. Not only did the plans for the evening have your stomach twisting, but you had been displaced from your comfort zone in the lingerie section of Victoria's secret — the side where the underwear was a lot less revealing, and the hoodies were the centers of attention was more your cup of tea.
Sam smirked, "you should know, you've seen some of their videos."
You rolled your eyes, "you know what I mean, people aren't what they post. What's he really like? He's a douchebag, isn't he?"
A laugh was the only thing that came from Sam's mouth, so you brought out bigger guns, "I'll cancel this blind date if you don't give me more of a heads up. And you know I will, so don't test me."
Sam shook her head, her tightly curled auburn hair moving in sync with her body, "Don't cancel, E said Gray is really looking forward to this! What do you want to know? He's super sweet and single, and according to E, lonely."
Your laugh and scoff coincided cynically, "lonely? I don't think a guy like that would even know what that word means."
"Whatever, he's fuckin' hot, that should be all you need to know."
Sam plucked a black one-piece from a rack; it had been dazzled with white crystals sewn under the wire bra, and the lace had been designed to look like a flower pattern. You inwardly cringed at how revealing it was, basically sheer that would leave nothing to the imagination.
"He doesn't date a lot," she held the outfit in front of her chest, "what do you think? I'm gonna get it, Ethan likes black."
Samantha and Ethan met at a party where Ethan busted his ass in a backyard because of an overly enthusiastic game of beer pong and a poorly discarded can. Despite his bruised skin and rolled ankle, it was lust at first sight— you weren't ready to label it anything more than that just yet. Yours and Sam's story began way before boys came into the picture, tied at the hip ever since you two teamed up against other girls on the basketball court in middle school. Sam's outwardness was suitable for the introvert that dwelled inside you; she pushed you to be more outgoing, while you reeled her back in when things got too crazy. Complete opposites that surprisingly clicked into a friendship that has lasted through high school, heartbreak, and now college. You have never met Ethan, but Sam was crazy over him and kept him close, usually behind locked doors and when others were nowhere in sight.
You weren't sure why Sam picked you of all people to set Grayson up with; she is in no short supply of more beautiful and outgoing girlfriends. She said it's because he was your type, but you know it's more likely she was just choosing the person she trusted the most. That, or she pitied your lack of romance. You agreed to the double date after hours of her begging, but you weren't going into it expecting much... especially knowing who he was and what he did for a living.
"S'pretty," you finally hummed, following along as Samantha sauntered over to the counter where pictures of almost intimidating tall blondes and brunettes with angel wings had been hung behind the cashiers– you weren't sure if those images helped or stumped their sales.
Sam stopped suddenly, and you collided into her back with a humph. Sam picked up a bra set and flipped it to check the back, tossing it your way with a smirk when she found the confirmation she wanted, "it's your size, you should get it. Ethan also says Grayson hasn't been laid in a long time."
You gasped, hands rising to clap around the free-falling material. With crimson cheeks and wide eyes, you did a circle to make sure no one heard what Sam had so freely put out into the world.
"It's a first date!" you cried.
But despite your words, you didn't put the garment back.
-
You looked at yourself one last time in the mirror, your right pointer finger fidgeting with the studded earring you pushed in at the last second. The diamonds embedded in the silver were fake, evident by the way it didn't glisten in harsh bathroom lights. You considered changing them, worried that a man of such wealth would be able to point out the difference between a real and a fake. However, before you could unscrew the backing, you were interrupted by harsh knuckles connecting with the door.
"Y/N? They're parking, they'll be inside in a minute."
You huffed out a harsh breath, humming to let Samantha know you've heard her. Suddenly your stomach was reduced to a fisherman's knot; the spaghetti strapped black dress that firmly hugged your hips felt even more uncomfortable. You noted the open bathroom window, curtains fluttering with the afternoon breeze — hopping out of it felt like your best option, even if the fall did result in a sprained ankle. You ignore your fantasies of escaping and smooth your hands over the fabric of your dress.
The deep breath you stole wasn't as soothing as you hoped it would be leaving the bathroom.
Samantha eyed you up and down, smirking at her own handy work. The dress was something she insisted you buy, and the six-inch pumps were from her own closet. High heels did magical things for any woman, but your legs looked unusually long and toned, ready to be touched and admired. Your hair was also her doing, loose strands pinned away in the back while the rest was curled and sprayed to last. You could see the inappropriate comments pooling on Sam's tongue, but by some grace, you were spared them as the door to Sam's apartment moved with the force of someone's hand.
"Don't worry, he's gonna like you," she said over her shoulder as she moved to answer it.
With a click to unlock and a twist of the knob, the door was opening to the hallway and in walked two of the most handsome men you'd ever seen. Stood there in front of you was probably the closest to Greece you'd ever get, as the one with the mole on his chin was no doubt in your mind the nearest thing dy his the modern world had to Adonis. It was a wonder mythologists hadn't preserved him in a lab to study with the way his chiseled jaw rivaled those of marble statues in art museums, where features always felt a little bit exaggerated. His hair was nicely styled, but it was nothing to mull over. His eyes, however... people always talked about drowning in blue hues, but his brown ones were like the undertow, yanking you in and keeping you there. A video could never do beauty like his justice.
You didn't even notice the bouquet of flowers in his hand or the way Samantha and Ethan's lips smacked together in greeting until he was walking towards you with a sheepish smile. The light hit him at a different angle and you noticed his eyes weren't as dark anymore, little bits of green and yellow coming out to play.
Sam pulled herself from Ethan so she could sit on the sidelines with a smirk plastered on her face, "Y/N, this is Grayson."
The fluster to his cheeks took you by surprise when he talked for the first time, "it's nice to meet you," he handed over the flowers, white and red roses mixed together and wrapped neatly in brown paper. With the flowers no longer working as his anchor, one of his hands rose to the back of his neck, where he rubbed at his hair, "Samantha didn't know which color you liked better.. so I got both?"
Your heart fluttered, and your lines softened, pulling the flowers flush to your face to get a smell of their sweetness. They were still fresh, you could tell by the way the pedals hadn't started to wrinkle, he must have just picked them up.
Ethan chuckled, "I told him he was going a little overboard with those."
Grayson turned redder than a bushfire, and you were at a loss of how someone could be so handsome and big, yet they were riddled with such an adorableness that made you want to kiss their cheeks.
"Bro—"
"No, no, they're perfect. I love roses. Thank you, Grayson," you smiled, sidestepping only so you could move towards the kitchen, determined to preserve the roses in whatever way you could — Which came to be in the form of a vase you found under the sink and water. You would have to remember to take them home, so Samantha didn't claim them as her own.
You smelled the roses one last time before you returned in a somewhat more relaxed manner, no longer able to feel your heartbeat against your rib cage. Everyone stood in their same place, Grayson fiddling idly with the watch on his wrist, while Sam said something about getting the show on the road.
-
Grayson's nervousness helped stunt your own, that's until all four of you descended the complex's stairs, and the twins lead you to not only a luxury car, but a baby blue Porsche that was a stark contrast to your 2010 Honda Civic bought off the facebook marketplace. You kept your mouth shut, held back the urge to stutter and ask if it was actually his, hoping to not sound like a complete idiot, but your wide eyes kind of gave it away.
What should have been a ten-minute drive was turned into a thirty-minute one with the bumper to bumper L.A. traffic; the deafening silence that filled the car started to make your ears ring, and your leg bounce in a way that matched your heartbeat. The longer you sat there and took in the interior of the Porsche, the fine leather, the rich smell, the harder it became to ignore the fact that you were not meant to be there.
Grayson caught the way you shook your head and closed your eyes in the rearview mirror, like you were willing away bad thoughts. Grayson used his hand to motion for Ethan to give him the aux.
"You guys like Cudi?"
The gruffness to Grayson's voice brought your eyes back from the yellow lines on the highway, "I don't know much of his stuff?"
Grayson's eyes widened, and Ethan dramatically flipped in the passenger seat to face you, "you don't know Cudi?"
"Ok, we have to listen to some!" Grayson exclaimed, opening his phone and quickly tapping on a title.
Your eyes rolled when the intro to Day 'n' night started playing, "of course I know this one! Anybody born before 2005 knows this."
The whole car laughed in sync with one another, and for a second, you felt lighter, like if you guys weren't from different worlds, maybe you all could have been friends.
Grayson held up the hand that wasn't glued to the wheel defensively, "Alright, alright, I'll play a different one."
"One of our favorites."
Whatever that man ain't wearing leather pants
I diagnose my damn self, these damn pills ain't working fam
In my spare time, punching walls, fucking up my hand
I know that shit sound super crazy, but if you had my life you'd understand
But, I can't fold, some poor soul got it way worse
We're all troubled, in a word of trouble
It's scary to have a kid walk this earth.
Well.. you weren't expecting that.
-
You could tell the restaurant would be fancier than your regular places as soon as Grayson veered over to the curb, a man in a suit promptly stepping into the street as soon as the car engine stopped humming. Instantly the outfit you had dropped a fair amount of money on seemed inadequate, and even more so when Grayson opened your door for you to be eye level with the Louis Vuitton belt that was snug against his waist, and Gucci loafers to match. You wish you could have shrunk and disappeared into the storm drain like summer rain at the realization that your dress had coast only forty dollars, while the guy you were set up with was wearing shoes that were easily a grand. He was wearing your monthly rent, and never have you felt so misplaced or misguided. You were used to guys picking you up in their shitty mustangs they took way too much pride in, taking you to Applebees as you stared at the mess of bottles and cigarette ashes littered about. And then bringing you back home where they expected too much for picking up a forty-dollar check.
You hated those dates, but that still felt more comfortable than this.
Sam had said many times these boys were humble, but you just didn't think anyone with that much money could be.
However, Grayson continued to surprise you by pulling out your chair when you were escorted by a small blonde woman to your table, and then when he leaned over to speak, his voice gentle and soothing, "I know first dates can be awkward... especially set up ones, but I hope we can get over that and have a nice dinner."
You smiled, hoping everything you felt wasn't presenting itself on your face, "Sorry... I just feel a little out of my element," you laughed nervously, using your right hand to gesture towards the restaurant around you, where there was a wall full of high priced wine, a ceiling that was intricately designed to look like a honeycomb made of stained wood. And then the gorgeous skyline of the city that sets the place apart from the rest, a wall that was entirely made up of glass so you could admire it in the way in deserved to be. The dim lighting coming from the rustic fixtures in the wall and the small candles on the table wrapped it all together to be romantic, only working to make the man next to you glow, like he belonged to the heavens and was defying the odds by being next to you.
You could imagine coming in here alone and the hostess laughing, saying they were booked despite numerous empty tables.
Grayson smirked, trying to suppress a chuckle that threatened, "Can I tell you something?"
You gulped and nodded, resting your chin on your palm so you could watch him.
"I don't feel like I belong here either."
Your eyes narrowed in on him, incredulously. You didn't believe it for a second. He walked and talked and smelled of money.
This time he allowed himself to laugh; his bright, straight teeth making your heart flutter. "No, I'm serious. I mean... E and I didn't grow up poor, but we also didn't grow up with all this," he mimicked your previous action by gesturing towards his clothes and then to the walls that surrounded, "I know our lives didn't blow up overnight, but it does feel like that sometimes. It's like we closed our eyes and had all these nice things.. and sometimes it's still hard to wrap my head around. I still don't feel like I really deserve it."
"Hmm," you hummed, maybe Samantha was right, something was tying him to the ground, keeping him level headed. Somehow, with just a few words, you didn't feel so misplaced, or too far from your comfort zone, though you were still wary.
"Then how do you look so... like you belong," you were thinking out loud.
"I usually go with the fake it 'till you make it method."
"Mm, I'm not good with faking it, you can usually tell everything I'm thinking by my face."
"I can see that. I think it's your eyes," he agreed.
"It's fine, you can say I have resting bitch face," you were kidding, but it was fun watching him struggle with the suggestion, like the whole sentence made him wildly uncomfortable.
His shoulder relaxed at the realization you weren't serious, or testing him, "I would never ever say that! And that's not what I would call it, like at all."
A beat passed before you changed the subject.
"Well, at least we can both relate to not coming from much," you laughed, "now that I'm here, in school, that takes most of my money."
Grayson's eyebrows raised high, "Samantha didn't mention that you were in school, what are you studying?"
At the mention of her, your eyes flicked towards your friend, finding her in her own bubble with Ethan on their side of the table; his arm was slung around her shoulder, his hand gently caressing the bare skin of her arm. She looked happy, and that made you smile as you turned back to the man stealing your attention.
"Second year of nursing school."
"Really? That's so fucking cool! Wow, look at you," he was louder than he needed to be, and that realized came with the sharp glare of an older couple adjacent to your table, the apples of his cheeks turning pink once again.
He tried again, with what he hoped came off as smoother, "so could you tell me why I've had these bad headaches every day?"
"Hm. I could definitely take a guess, but nurses don't make diagnoses, sorry," you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth and giggled.
Something about that, your laugh, your full cheeks, your hair cascading down your shoulder had him feeling bold. And it really was coming out before he could stop it, "maybe you'll be around to bandage me up next time I fall," and he regrets his decision only two words into his atrocious sentence, mentally facepalming when he laid out the last verb.
Grayson groaned at himself, his head dropping in anguish, "I'm sorry that was- oh my god, that was awful. I'm sorry."
His original words had set you through a loop, but you couldn't help but soften at seeing how much he regretted what he said. You were unsure if a cuter person existed, and you have met a lot of people in your twenty years.
"No, no, It's okay. You're cute when you're nervous," you confessed, more forward than you were used to being, quickly deciding it was worth it when Grayson looked back up with sparkling eyes.
"You—"
"Hello, I'm Robert, I'll be your waiter tonight, can I start you off with something to drink?"
Pop goes the little bubble you guys had floated off into, falling back down to reality where cheeks burned, and nervousness presented itself with shy sentences and second-guessing.
-
An impressive array of fish platters and perfectly cooked steaks sat untouched, turning cold as the minutes ticked by, the whole table fully immersed in continuous giggles.
"Wait, so you both kissed her?!" Samantha yelled, not even trying to spare other diners of the conversation, her eyes wide as saucers. You were sitting there laughing with your hand covering your mouth, imagining a smaller version of Ethan and Grayson pining over the same girl.
"We were like twelve!" Ethan protested, convinced his words made the story less ridiculous. To you, it only made it funnier, almost snorting out the water you had started sipping on to soothe your dry mouth.
Grayson rolled his eyes, growing louder and louder as the discussion went on, "I kissed her first! You totally knew I liked her, and then you made it your mission to get her because I got a stain on your favorite t-shirt."
Ethan shook his head, not making eye contact with his twin as he refuted his claims, "that's not true at all." The silence only lasted as long as it took Grayson to send a pointed glare, prompting Ethan to go on, "but if you did ruin my favorite shirt, then you deserved it."
Samantha elbowed Ethan in the ribs, "you're a pig, Ethan!"
Ethan gaped at her, "wha— I was literally a preteen!"
"Still, wrong is wrong," you could tell she was mostly joking, and you hoped Ethan could read it the same way, "guess the things I got from our trip to Victoria's secret won't be used tonight."
Ethan's eyes shot wide open, before faltering into a pathetic puppy, right where Sam liked all men to be, "y-you got some—"
Sam smirked over her drink, "lingerie? Yeah, we both did."
Your eyes nearly bugged out of your head, sending Sam a curt shake of your head, telling her to drop the conversation, but her words were out there, and you knew Grayson had caught her drift because the salad he had been picking at got caught in his throat with a cough. Your face was red, again, and you don't know if he was matching because you didn't even look his way– instead, you started feigning interest in your silverware.
Things had been going so well you wanted to yell at Sam for erasing all the progress and comfort you and Grayson had built over the past hour.
Ethan coughed, "so... how's everyone's food?"
-
You tried to make the date go back to a natural territory, though it was hard to swallow the persistent need to tell Grayson that whatever you might or might not have bought wasn't for him... in particular. You eventually swallowed down your worries with a margarita or two.
Grayson was still easy and welcome company, making you feel comfortable enough to take Ethan's offer to let you sit up front. Ethan's suggestion seemed more self-involved as you guys pulled onto the highway; you weren't stupid, you could hear the smacking of their lips no matter how silent they tried to make it. You could also see the way Ethan's hand had started to inch higher up Sam's thigh, his jumping foot showcasing his impatience.
Aside from the whispers and shared kisses between the two in the back, the car ride was silent until Grayson turned the wheel to pull into the parking lot of Samantha's apartment. It was dark now, the moon obstructed by sudden white clouds that made you think it might start raining soon. You liked the rain, but the missing stars made you feel a bit uneasy.
"Bro, I'm gonna stay here tonight," Ethan mumbled.
You clicked the lock button on your phone, your twitter feed turning black as you maneuvered in your seat so you could see Sam, "you were supposed to take me home. My car isn't here, remember?"
Samantha looked at you dumbly, overcompensating to look like she had forgotten, but this wasn't a new thing for her to do. "Oh.. right." She paused, acted like she was pondering, and you grit your teeth to stop yourself from rolling your eyes, "I'm sure Grayson here can take you home?"
Ethan nodded, and you shake your head, "I'm sure he has better—"
"I can take you home, it's not a problem."
Sam clapped her hands together and smiled wide. Ethan patted his brother on the shoulder, mumbling a quick see you later, before grabbing his girl's hand and disappearing with hops up the stairs.
Your sigh was caught by Grayson, which he intercepted by loosening his grip on the wheel and shifting the car into park, "If you're uncomfortable, I can call you a car or something?"
You looked at him, your confusion showing in the lines of your forehead, "No, it's not that at all... To be honest, I'm still quite nervous."
And Sam taking you home was your safety net, an easy way for you to escape something you might otherwise choose.
Grayson huffed out a small chuckle, "me too."
You smiled at him, your eyes training over his jaw; you briefly wondered if the feeling of being surprised by his prominent facial features would ever go away, or if he was just someone people always looked at with wonder no matter how many times you've seen him. The thought itself was weird, blind dates were never like this, not even the ones you chose either— you could never see yourself thinking about another, or even seeing them again. You didn't know much about him, but you liked him; he had a contagious laugh, he seemed far away from other L.A boys, and he was kind. There was nothing in your brain telling you to run, or that liking him was a bad thing, a far fetch from what you felt only hours ago.
There was nothing particularly special about the date, there wasn't some magical conversation that made everything click, but there was something about him. He proved you wrong and surprised you with his thoughtfulness.
Grayson's shyness had matched yours the whole night, and maybe that's what got your confidence flowing. Or maybe it was because you couldn't picture him hurting you or using you because he paid for dinner. Or maybe it was the two margaritas you had. Whatever it was, the words were tumbling out of your mouth before you knew you had it in you.
"How about we go to your place?"
Your own words were no less of a shock to yourself than they were to Grayson. His eyes were large and quick as a bolt his left hand reconnected to the top of the steering wheel. He licked his top lip and stammered, "I- we- I mean.. Yeah, we-we can do that."
Your confidence faded almost quicker than it had appeared, "If- we don't have to... If that's not what you- you know what? you can just take me home."
"No!" Grayson shouted so loud you jumped a bit in your seat. "No, that's not what I want. I mean, if you wanted to — yeah, I would like that... for you to... come over."
You've never seen a man act this clumsily at the suggestion of taking you home since high school. It was like you were a teen, only this time it was better because Grayson was actually good looking and he had better manners than teenage boys, even though he was only fresh in his twenties.
Yeah, you wanted this. You certainly had given other boys a lot more for a lot less.
-
With the sun long beyond the horizon, the evening had grown cold, and the uphill journey to Grayson's home lead you to an almost eerie quietness. The only evidence you were still in the city was the lights that twinkled off the cliffs down to the hills of L.A.
Grayson's hand reached above his head, his finger blindly pressing down on a button that was attached to the car visor, which prompted a gate to you slide open, "well... this is where Ethan and I live."
You frowned at the formalness of his sentence, "are you okay? I can get a ride home if you've changed your mind."
With tight eyebrows, he gingerly slid his car into its spot and moved the gear into park, "No, I absolutely want you here... I'm still just nervous. Regardless of what people think, I'm not... and you're just- I mean, you're... wow."
His words were jumbled, there wasn't a coherent thought by the end, but yet you had never known such flattery. You silently remind yourself that you were both nervous, and that was okay. It was actually good, it meant something more than being relaxed.
You giggled, pushing away a strand of hair that spilled over your shoulder, "at least we're nervous together."
Grayson laughed and nodded, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. He admired the plumpness, how your bottom lip was fuller than the top, the way they were gloss-less, and as pink as the tulips in his mother's garden. What really got him was the prominence of your cupid's bow, the way it formed a perfect v that his own mouth longed to know. He couldn't stop himself from leaning over the center counsel, his head dipping with obvious intent. But there wasn't a connection because you turned your head, pulling on the handle so the door could fly open, "let's go inside?"
Grayson mentally hit his head against the steering wheel, and outwardly shook his head at himself. You hated yourself for not letting him do it, but there was something deep inside you that said a Porsche wasn't a good place to start something you wouldn't be able to stop.
You stood by idly as Grayson fiddled with his keys, crossing and uncrossing your arms to look for some semblance of warmth. You decided to try and ease the tension, your voice cutting through the dead air, "don't tell me this isn't your house, and you don't have the key?"
"Nervous, remember?"
His laugh echoed your own, a click finally when the right key had been shoved in. Grayson opened it and blindly reached over the wall to flick on the light, stepping inside when he could see better. He didn't stop though, and further down the hall, he looked over his shoulder to see if you were following, stilling when he saw you were fixated on the black panther. At first, it piqued your interest because it didn't match the colorful painting that hung above it. Then you noticed it was rimmed with gold, and it had diamond eyes and a necklace to match, and really, the snort you let out was inevitable. It was so ridiculous you didn't even want to know the price in fear you wouldn't be able to hide your disapproval.
"What the hell is that?"
Grayson retracted his steps to be closer, "it's from a stupid video. Ethan bought it." He laughed, "wait, haven't you seen it? Sam said you're kinda a fan."
Your jaw dropped, why would she say that to the man she set you up with? You wished she would grow some sense in her brain. You couldn't be too mad though; after all, he still brought you here... And yet you still held up a hand to defend yourself, "I've seen a few videos, not a lot! School takes up a lot of my time."
You shake your head, moving to the living room, "maybe I should tell Ethan that after she met him, she had a full-on fangirl moment and has followed him on Instagram for years."
A part of him was kind of relieved you hadn't seen all his videos, intentions were always hard for him to read. "Well, don't go home and watch them after this, you'll probably hate me then."
"Oh, well now I'm definitely doing that," you smirked, hand trailing over the wood that hung under the tv, various Halloween decorations scattered about it. Grayson bit back the urge to brag about his buildings. Instead, he asked, "so what do you like to do when you're not at school?"
You bopped the nose of a stuffed pumpkin, and Grayson had to stop himself from falling in love.
"I like being outside. Running, hikes, stuff like that," you turned back towards Grayson, "but aside from nursing, I'm really into astrology, almost decided to go to school for that. Nursing was the more responsible choice."
"Maybe you could show me where the big dipper is?"
You giggled, "It's not hard to find when you know what you're looking for, but this time of year, the big dipper sinks below the horizon if you're in the southern united states- they actually call it 'spring up, fall down.'"
"Oh," Grayson mumbled, his cheeks heating. If he were honest, he didn't care to see the big dipper, he didn't even know what it really was, but he thought you'd be impressed with his use of the term. You sensed his embarrassment, "but in the spring, I can show you. There are other cool constellations too."
He tried not to think about it, but the romantic part of him liked the idea of a girl —you— being around long enough to show him more than just bare skin and bedsheets.
"Andromeda... that's one of my favorites," you nodded at the ground, nipping at your bottom lip, "the constellation is named after a princess in Greek mythology. They say her mother, Queen Cassiopeia, offended the sea nymphs by bragging Andromeda was more beautiful than them. The god of the sea was going to punish them by destroying their land and so the king sought advice and was told to sacrifice his daughter- which he did, chaining her to a rock by the sea. She ended up being saved by Perseus, who later became her husband. It's said a Goddess named Athena commemorated princess Andromeda by putting her image into the stars."
You shake your head, "sorry, that was a lot - I just like the story, and the way the consultation looks like a woman falling from the sky."
"No, no... I liked listening to you talk about it." The story was interesting, and he made a note to google it later on, but what he enjoyed the most was the way you told it— like you actually believed the mythology behind it, or at least you liked to imagine it to be true.
"Well, you really don't want to get me going with all of this," you laughed, "people are always surprised that I'm so into astrology being a nurse. I do Tarot and all that too."
You waited for the judgment, but to your surprise, it never came; Grayson looked entranced, and your gaze fell from him his, trying to hide the brightening of your cheeks.
The room fell into a comfortable silence. It was so comfortable it made you step from foot to foot because you didn't want to stay in that moment, you wanted more from him, but you had a feeling he wasn't going to make another big moved again. If it were up to him, you would probably end up on the couch watching a movie, not because that's what he'd rather do but because it was safe. It didn't put him in a position to get rejected.
So you held your breath, you bit your bottom lip and fluttered your lashes before speaking up, "it's a nice house. And your bedroom?"
Grayson gulped, almost choking on the gasp he swallowed down, "this way," he pointed towards a narrow dark hallway, and you smiled before pattering behind him.
You wouldn't admit it to him, but of the few videos you have seen of theirs, one was the room makeover, so you had to feign more interest than you felt when you walked into his room. Not for the first time, you noticed there was no cohesive theme, just random bits of his interests on the walls and shelves. Grayson stood against the wall and watched your eyes flicker around; he refused to let his gaze fall below your shoulder because then he might be a goner. But then he wasn't sure why he was fighting it because he already was, the image of you so close to his bed with that dress that perched your breasts high up on your chest had him in a tizzy. And it wasn't just that, you were smart and you gave him a real conversation. He wasn't used to the whole package right there in front of him, asking to be brought home.
Grayson surprised you when he pushed himself off the wall, he was apparently full of those, "if I try to kiss you again, are you gonna let me?"
It seems you took too long to answer because Grayson's eyes widened the slightest, and he sidestepped, "Or- shit- I can show you E's room, or the kitchen? The filming room is empty, but we also have a pool, and then.. the bathroom? I could even—"
"Grayson?"
"Yeah?"
"Kiss me."
All the forehead lines he inherited with his stuttering disappeared, and he stepped closer. He might have been relieved, but his heart now thumped with more vigor. You gulped when you saw him lean down to accommodate your height, his lips pressing against yours easily. You jumped at the first connection, at the softness of his lips, at the spark that traveled down your spine. It was good, so good you hummed and reached both of your hands up to grip the back of his neck. Grayson's hands covered your hips entirely, and that made your stomach do a wonderful dip. Both of your mouths stayed unmoving as you two looked for your niche and just took each other in, but it was short-lived as he soon opened his to get more of you.
Once his tongue moved with yours, and his lips sucked on your bottom, you were hooked. People always talk about the kiss that changes everything.
You think you might have just found it.
One of Grayson's hands slid up until he reached your hair, pulling you further into him because close wasn't close enough. His other hand abandoned your hip for your back, moving dangerously low until he had some of your ass in his grasp. Your whine fell short when he moved back abruptly, the back of your knees touching the bed first, then the rest of your body as you fell to it and scooted to the headboard. You got a good look at him, his eyes were darker, and his lips were already so swollen you couldn't wait to admire your work by the time this ended. At your feet, Grayson popped open each button of his shirt at an achingly slow pace. You were sure you were dreaming when you saw what he was hiding underneath; he was chiseled like a god, and maybe that's what he was because no man before him had ever made you want to get on your knees and worship.
With his pants still on, he climbed onto the mattress, crawling towards you in a way that made you bite your bottom lip and nod in approval.
"You okay?" He asked; the sweetness that still resided in his voice despite the lustful turn almost made you want to cry.
"Yes, please touch me," if you were in a better place of mind, you would have knocked yourself on the head from sounding so desperate.
Grayson nodded, and you spread your legs as best your dress would allow so he could sit snuggly in-between them, his mouth giving you a quick peck before kissing your jaw and then attaching to your neck. Your hands threaded through his hair as he sucked at the sensitive skin, his own hand grazing up your hip and side before landing over your boob, where he squeezed with expertise.
You groaned, "fuck.. help me take it off, please."
He had never complied with a request so fast in his life— sitting back to slip the straps down your arms and then tugging it the rest of the way. The lacy white bra you had underneath? He wasn't prepared for that despite Sam's words earlier. The matching underwear and the garter you had hooked to your knee-high pantyhose? He was embarrassed by the groan he let out, it was akin to the sound he made when he came.
"God.. you look like a fucking angel," he whined with sensory overload, trying he to decide if he wanted to admire the way your nipples popped out of the lace or the way your panties were showing a wet patch. Grayson undid his pants and pushed them off before he hooked his thumbs around the sides of your underwear.
Grayson shuffled down the bed, leaving kisses on your stomach and hips on the way. He settled in between your legs you had spread desperately, watching you as he placed a delicate kiss over the fabric, "this ok?"
He kissed you there again, far too low and far too much fabric in the way for you to feel any relief; it only made you clench around nothing.
"Yes, yes. Please, more."
You could have cried when instead of pulling off your panties, he turned his head and nuzzled against the skin of your thigh, leaving a kiss that was so gentle you were positive he would take good care of you.
"Oh my god, please Grayson."
He liked teasing, but he could never deny, not when you were wide open and glistening for him. He finally unhooked the garner, pulled your panties down, practically ripping your pantyhose, leaving you bare. His thumb ran over your folds, spreading you so he could get a good look, "you're so perfect, can't wait to taste you."
And he didn't have to wait, because then he was grabbing your things and hooking his arms around them to pull you closer. His mouth cupped the entirely of you, and you thought nothing could top that feeling until he stiffened his tongue and ran it from your pulsating hole. Your moan was so pornographic that you covered your own mouth, not wanting to hear yourself.
"You like being fingered?"
You bit your lip and nodded, resisting the urge to push his head back down so you could grind on his face. Grayson let go of one of your legs so he could circle a finger around your pussy before pressing it inside and twisting his palm up. Your back lifted off the bed, Grayson using his left hand to press you back down by the stomach. His mouth attached to your clit while his finger started moving in and out. You swore every organ inside of you dropped inches from their rightful place, like when got to the first hill of a roller coaster. Grayson moaned, using the tip of his tongue to work your nub in the most perfect tight circles.
"Yes, like that. M'gonna cum if you keep going."
You were ready for him to retreat at your words; men often think close meant they weren't needed anymore, you were wet enough for them to do what they really wanted, but Grayson kept at it, even moving faster and intensifying his tongue flips by shaking his head back and forth. That fact, and that he could use his mouth and fingers at the same time without losing rhythm? You swore you were in heaven.
"Fuck, it's coming. That's so good."
Grayson loudly popped off your pussy so he could watch the way you sat up on your elbows and the way your mouth hung open. He replaced his mouth with his free thumb, the pressure making you clench around the finger inside you.
"Yeah? Let go for me, come on," he encouraged. Everything inside of you snapped, and your elbows could no longer support your weight, your back hitting the bed again in time for your hips to lift with the ecstasy.
"Fuck, yes, yes, there you go. There you go," Grayson cooed, watching intently at the way your pussy contracted. You had to close your eyes, vision too much to handle as you rode it out by jutting your hips into his hands. You fell limp against the bed with a final cry, jumping and crossing your legs when he kissed your sensitive clit again.
With one last swipe of his tongue to ensure he got every drop of what you gave him, he was crawling back up, using his elbows to steady his weight so he could grind his clothed dick into you. You whined, still strung out form the orgasm he gave you.
You breathed out heavily, "that was - Woah... I just, we can keep going I just- I need a second."
Grayson was never one that needed verbal reassurance in the bedroom, he could always tell if he was doing it right by sounds and body language, and you gave him that. Still, hearing the words from your mouth.. he groaned and had to stop himself from pulling down his briefs and plunging into the warmth he knew would rock his word. His nose nudged into your neck, granting you that time you needed, but it wasn't long before he was grinding again, looking for some guise of relief.
He confirmed his growing desperation when his hips stilled again, and he pulled away to look in your eyes, "can I please fuck you?"
You bit your lip, holding back a smirk because you did this to this man, and it was one of the greatest victories in your life, to watch him wither and whine and bend at your will. So you teased him, "so much manners. You sure you don't want me to return the favor before?"
"Another time. Wanna be inside."
"Then what are you waiting for?"
You pushed down his briefs as far as your arms would reach, then Grayson took over, kicking them off when they wrapped around his ankles. You sat up, maneuvering your hands behind your back to unlatch the bra he hadn't bothered to pull off, but Grayson grabbed your arm before you could and murmured, "leave it on.. please."
You nodded, wanting to tell him he didn't have to keep being so polite, but you kept your mouth shut, deciding it wasn't a good time. When your eyes wandered lower, you got the first real glance at his cock, and your jaw almost hit your chest; He had the girth and the length and then some, and you knew the fit would have been damn near impossible if he hadn't already gotten you off.
Grayson positioned himself on his knees, spitting into his hand, watching you intently as he smoothed the wetness to where you were already dripping down your thighs. He pushed your left leg by the knee, hooking it over his back. He grabbed his cock and looked at you with eyes that were too pretty for what you were about to do. What he was looking for — your confirmation — came in the form of a quick nod, and that's all he needed to tap himself at your clit before lowering, lowering, picking up your wetness until he was where he needed to be. You both gasped as his tip found its way in, the rest of him gliding in with such ease it surprised you. You were wetter than you thought.
You watched between your legs with your mouth agape, until you saw him bottom out, your head flailing back on the pillow. You let yourself enjoy it, being so full, the way his cock was pulsating, the way he was already so close to your cervix even though he hadn't even fucking moved yet. He was about to ruin you, and you wanted to enjoy the calm before the storm. Not that the storm was going to be bad.
He grunted, "you ok?" free hand quickly cupping under your head, so he could pull at your locks, wanting to see your eyes.
Your eyes snapped open, looking directly in his eyes to whimper out 'yes.' Your palms moving to grab at your tits, needing something to hold on to, "yes, yes, move. Please move, Grayson. You're so big."
He knew he needed to follow your instructions because if he kept watching you with that white lace and the way your hair had flared out behind your head, he would be gone before he even got the chance to properly fuck you. He was thrusting, and you were so hot and tight he was whimpering like he was fifteen, and it was his first time.
You were tingling, on fire, you didn't know what to do besides moan out "faster."
With your words, his hips snapped into you faster, harder, taking your breath away with even single thrust you swore he was in your lungs. You were so full, he was hitting everything, all the right places as his dick came all the way out to only sink all the way back on. He was at your hilt even though you could tell he was still holding back, the thought had you clenching hard around him.
"Do that again?"
You opened your eyes, clenching your pussy as best you could, watching as his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth drop open at the feeling. His eyes were locked where he was disappearing and reappearing, your juice coating him.
"You're so fucking tight. Can- can you ride me?"
"Mhmm."
He pulled out, and you both whined at the emptiness that followed. You didn't know how you'd ever stop, never wanting the void to return. Grayson flopped down on his back, instantly grabbing your hips when you straddled him; his grip was hard, and it reminded you how much stronger he was than you. Your hands were on his chest, your pussy resting pretty on his V line, as you took a moment just to watch him, take in the way his forehead had became drenched and how his abs looked tighter than before. You wanted to stay there forever, live in a moment where someone like him was laid under someone like you.
You were smiling, borderline giggling and Grayson looked at you with furrowed brows.
"What?" He asked.
"Nothing," you shake your head, lifting yourself by your knees so you could move down lower, gripping him and aligning yourself with his rosy tip. You gave him a few pumps before pushing him in, "m'just happy we did this."
Not just this... but the date, all of it. You were floating and didn't want to come down.
Grayson smiled genuinely, "me too."
With your bottom lip snug between your teeth, you lowered yourself, staying down when he was seethed fully in your velvety walls. Somehow he was bigger, deeper, and you whined at the way you could feel even ridge and vein. After a beat or two, you lifted and sank back down, finding a rhythm, hopping and bouncing on him with no intention of slowing down.
Grayson gasped, his thumb digging into your hip bone to hold you down, though you could tell the attempt was only half hearted because you still bounced easily on him, and you knew if he really wanted you to stop he had the power to make you, "keep going like that, and I'm gonna cum."
Your eyebrows quirked and a wicked smile took over your features, slapping at his hand to get him to let go. You kept bouncing mercilessly, adding in a clench or two for fun, "think I might just keep going then."
"But- but" he wasn't really in the position to argue when you were taking him all, sucking him up like it was what you were meant to do.
"Can I—"
You clenched again, stilling your hips, "don't ask Grayson, just do it."
You yelped when he moved abruptly, your back smacking against the bed. His dick was only out of you for 3 seconds before he was back, and this time he pushed your legs back until they were against your chest. He was good at eating out, good at being soft, but his pounding was even better— he was fucking you into the mattress so hard that you had involuntary cries escaping from the force.
And there it was again. It was sneaky, or maybe Grayson just knew what to do because he kept hitting that fucking spot perfectly, and you weren't used to such relentless skill. Without a word, the heat that twisted inside of you burst like a bubble in summer air– it ran up your spin, to your head and back to your toes. Your back lifted off the bed involuntarily, and your hands clapped to Grayson's back, nails leaving deep crescents on his skin. The intensity reduced you to nothing more than quivers and an open mouth, but the feeling was fleeting, too fleeting, like a butterfly who graced you with sitting on your arm for a quick kiss before flying away with the wind. This time the butterfly took all your breath with it, leaving you to whimper and pant.
"Did you just cum?" He asked, jaw low at what he'd just seen.
"Mhmm," was all you could manage, eyes closed, face contorted.
"God, that was— where can I cum?" He was growing sloppy, his thrusts weren't nearly as hard as they'd been.
You smiled lazily at him, fucked out, and ready for him to give you every drop, "In me. On my face. I don't care."
He stuck to thrusting in and out a few more times before stopping dead, deep in your pussy, groaning as his hot cum coated you slick walls. You were on birth control, but you would gladly pay for a thousand plan b's just to see the way his face twisted when he came inside. His nose was tight against yours, mouth wide and unmoving, just hung open and hovering over your lips so you could swallow his whimpers.
You both laid there, bodies rising and falling with air at the same time, like you were one person. Minutes passed before he was finally pulling out, you let out a satisfied huff when you felt his cum drip out of you freely.
Then you were laughing, and Grayson was trying desperately to hide his concern with a smile.
"What's so funny?"
"Nothing, it's just... I came really hard, and I can't even imagine what my face looked like."
Grayson smirked, turning from his back to his side so he could drape an arm over your hip and look at you with adoration that made you want to hide, "well... that's something I will always remember."
"God," you groaned, both hands shooting up to cover your face that was hot for all the wrong reasons, "was it that bad?"
He furrowed his brows, his lips jutting out the slightest, "are you kidding? That was the hottest thing I've ever seen, your eyes like rolled back in your head."
You couldn't tell if he was teasing or not, so you decided to let it go, in fear he would reveal more embarrassing information. Comfortable silence washed out the room, one where you both laid on your sides and admired the other's flaws. But the thing is, it was hard to find blemishes on Grayson Dolan, and the more you looked at him, the more surreal it became that you of all people were there with him. Not because he was famous or rich, but because he was so handsome and he had a heart to match his looks. You were both glowing with sheen veils of sweat even as the sex faded into the distance; something was keeping the heat alive, maybe it was how close you were to each other.
A part of you was shocked he hadn't asked you to leave yet.
-
"I really don't do this a lot.. that wasn't a lie. I just want you to know that," Grayson mumbled when you came pattering from the bathroom.
You froze briefly before rejoining him in bed, pulling the white sheet tight to your naked chest, deciding to stay that way because Grayson hadn't redressed either, and putting your dress back on seemed like the most awful thing you could do.
"Would it matter if you did?"
You learned quickly that Grayson Dolan was easy to turn rosy, a quality you liked a lot because it rivaled your own, "I guess not. I just- people have perceptions of me... And they assume things, but I just wanted you to know that's not me. I'm not out there breaking hearts and taking names. My brother actually makes fun of me a lot because I'm so opposite of what people say." He didn't want to say the words, but he was a romantic, searching for something long term, it was apparent to anyone who got close enough.
You weren't immune to the public perception, hell you were one of those people just hours ago, but looking at him now, you knew this man couldn't hurt a fly. And if he did somehow by accident, he would apologize until he was red in the face.
"Well, I don't see you that way," you smiled, "I have perfect intuition too, I think it has to do with my zodiac sign."
It was late, and you were both growing delirious, your persistence belly giggles all that filled the room besides silly sentences that wouldn't be funny during daylight hours. Somehow you drifted into Grayson's arm, your hand resting atop his stomach and your eyes already drifting when you halfheartedly asked, "should I go home?"
"Nah."
So you stayed.
-
Morning comes just as fast as you closed your eyes, like sleep was a blip that never happened. The unpleasant heaviness to your eyes that came from a late-night was outweighed by the glow of sunlight hitting the hardwood floor and the man who had recently turned to lay on his back. Grayson's taut stomach on display, a light white sheet the only thing keeping him somewhat modest, not that it mattered much after the night before. Your body was sore in the best way, your thighs and hips not minding the burn at all. You pushed yourself from the pillow, pulling your knees and the sheet to your chest. You watched the way Grayson's chest rose and fell with every breath he took, and you couldn't stop yourself from brushing away a strand of hair that had stuck to his forehead.
You jumped when he inhaled deeply, his eyes fluttering open. "Mmm, mornin'," he hummed, "everything ok?"
You spoke over the fluttering in your heart, "yeah, sorry I woke you."
"S'okay. I don't mind."
"I'm gonna go get some water," you tossed the sheet and went right for the clothes you saw on the floor. The closest thing to you happened to be a t-shirt that was Grayson's, one that hung to your knees and fit illy against your chest. "Hopefully I can find the kitchen, I never got the full tour," you teased.
Grayson chuckled, but his laugh was cut short when he looked over to see you clad in his shirt. It had grey sleeves and a black middle, one of his favorites to lounge around the house with, but he'd gladly lend it to you indefinitely if you asked. Maybe he'll even suggest you keep it before you leave, but for now, he just mumbled a tired, "c' mere."
You padded to the edge of the bed. How could you not? Grayson grabbed your wrist and tugged you forward, prompting a squeal, your free hand keeping you from flopping face down into the mattress. Grayson smiled toothily, a palm laying gently to your face to pull you in for a quick kiss. It was sweet, gentle, made you never want to know a different one. You shook your head at the thoughts he'd placed in your mind, it's like he made you a cheesy romantic overnight – like you weren't already, you looked to the stars for answers for fuck's sake – You couldn't mind too much though, you liked not waking up in a strange bed and feeling like you had to leave, or that twinge of guilt. You pushed away from him, steadied yourself back on your feet, and turned to walk out; Grayson watched every step, a dreamy sigh leaving his lips before his eyes closed again.
The house was silent, aside from your naked feet on the hardwood. You got a glass from the wooden cabinets, moving to the sink to fill it with water. The cloudless day drew you to the sliding door, where you could see leaves that had floated into the pool, the haze that was fading over the cliff. You were zoned out until the sound of steps brought you back; you looked over your shoulder, sure it would be Grayson offering to make breakfast– he seemed like the type.
But it wasn't him, just the guy who looks uncannily like him, and following behind him was Samantha. Ethan wore the same clothes from the night before, but Sam had traded her dress in for sweats and a hoodie. You instantly snapped your head back towards the sun, willing yourself to be just a fly on the wall.
But it wasn't Samantha to just quietly observe; she didn't say anything yet, but you could fucking feel the smirk that painted her face. So you turned around, walked to the sink and emptied your cup, hoping to god this would be the one time Samantha didn't embarrass you.
Ethan spoke first, "where's Gray?"
Was there any way you could play this off, stop the inevitable grilling?
No, your hair was a tangled knot, your neck made up red and purple splotches, and you were wearing his shirt with no pants. You looked like the epitome of the walk of shame. And you knew you shouldn't have felt embarrassed, but you couldn't stop the heat from rising up your neck and cheeks.
"Uh, he's sleeping... I think."
Sam cocked her brow, a smirk that you hated playing on her lips, "rough night?"
"Shut up."
Sam cackled, "you slut, you fucked him!" She clapped her hands together, looking back to Ethan, "I owe you a twenty. Didn't think she had it in her."
She went on, "was it good?!"
"Did he like the lingerie?"
"Did you get dicked down?!"
Ethan even said, "about time he got laid, maybe he'll be less grumpy now."
You scoffed, knowing that if you didn't leave, she would just keep going; you pushed passed the two and made way back to Grayson's room. You were only in there long enough to take off his shirt and zip back up the dress that felt tighter than it had the night before. With your heals in your hand, you shut the door on his soft snores, opening your phone to order a car.
You couldn't stay there knowing Sam and Ethan would be smirking and talking about your sex life behind your back, probably even to your face when Gray woke up. The only goodbye you offered was a quick mumble to the couple who had planted themselves on the couch.
Why were they even up so early?
-
When Grayson wakes up, it's because he hears voices in the hallway. He rubs at his eyes with no real intention besides trying to will the tiredness away as he listens to Ethan and Samantha thrashing around in the closet, arguing about where the band aids were. It takes a moment for him to register the slight ache in his legs, the burning of scratches etched into his back, the memory of the night before flooding back; it's enough to get him going. The empty bed was a disappointment, but it puts a pep in his step to re-dress and join the world outside his bedroom door.
Only once he tiptoed past Ethan and his girlfriend did his eagerness for the day fade, as the rest of the house was seemingly empty of the girl who consumed his bed. And her absence wasn't from a lack of looking, he checked every room, even the backyard. His shoulders were visibly lower as he reproached Ethan, this time letting his presence be known by meekly asking, "have you guys seen Y/N?"
Samantha was too busy wrapping a bandage around her thumb to register his voice as anything other than background noise, but Ethan looked over his shoulder and answered, "she left like an hour ago."
It wasn't the answer Grayson wanted, nor the one he expected. "Oh.. Uh, did she say why?"
Samantha gasped, attracting all of Ethan's attention to the point where he doesn't register the hurt in his brother's voice, "No — shit, do you think we should go to the hospital? It's still bleeding."
"Oh.. I was going to ask if she wanted to go to Griffith observatory later," and make her breakfast, and kiss her and maybe bring her back to his room.. the first idea was the most important, the plans blooming ever since she told him she liked astrology; the observatory was full of binoculars, and it probably had the best place to view the stars in the city. He also had his mind set on buying her something from the gift shop, maybe a book about astrology or one of the many pieces of cheap jewelry they had related to the sky.
"I'm gonna take Sam to the ER, she cut herself cutting an avocado."
Grayson was thankful for the empty house; it meant no one was around to call out his sulking because damn it, he deserved the right to be sad. Left with just his mind to replay the previous night's events, he came to the conclusion that he was destined to live a life full of meaningless one night stands, no matter how good the conversation or how nice the person seemed.
Maybe he wasn't good at reading people, never having considered her as someone who would leave without even a measly note.
Maybe it had to do with his zodiac sign.
October 1st, 2019
Sagittarius Horoscope:
Expect to channel a lot of energy into partnerships today. Whether the partnership is new or long term, business or personal, it requires extra effort to maintain now. Perhaps you and your partner need to communicate more. Share your concerns or brainstorm some plans for the future that are a bit different from what you usually do. Make the effort
-
Days that were filled with second-year nursing classes, mostly consisting of the precise work of microbiology, became even longer while waiting for a phone call or text that wouldn't come. It was the skin inching agony you hated yourself for feeling.
It had been two weeks since you shared a bed with Grayson. You might have left without a goodbye, without an explanation, but as you got into the Uber that day, you still felt he would contact you because your going had been anything but malicious— perhaps self-serving, but only to get out of an uncomfortable situation. You thought he'd understand that. And two people in that house knew why you left. He didn't have your phone number, but again he had ways of finding that out. You thought he liked you enough to ask Samantha for it, but apparently, he didn't because your phone was absent of any meaningful notification. And you knew it wasn't a one-way thing, but you weren't going to be a beggar, not even a chaser.
You tried to let not let it chip away at you, decided to focus on how not to spread infectious diseases from patient to patient, but it was hard to forget a feeling like the one Grayson gave you. The sex was good, the energy around him nothing but sunset orange. There was an air to him, one that made you feel like you were back home, where your mom would play with your hair when the nights were endless, and the dreams were scary— miles away from the ocean and city lights. He was the warmth of a small town wrapped into a person. That night with him was a high you wanted to chase but knew it would be impossible to reach, like the dip dipper when the air turned crisp.
So you let it go, told yourself he faked it all, moved onto his next thing to play with, because that's what guys like him did, right? You just wish your heart could believe what your mind was telling you.
And you started to forget that night because life was crazy and it went on, and even if he had made you feel good he didn't hang the moon in stars, the world didn't move for him. But then, that stupid fucking Instagram algorithm – or the world – put him at the top of your feed with a photo that was the embodiment of everything you tried to tell yourself he wasn't. It was a picture of him, his mother, sister, and of course, his twin. His sister was graduating apparently, and the smile he held was wide and said he was a family man through and through. His skin glowed in a way that made you a bit jealous.
So your fingers were moving before your brain; you swiped out of the app and texted Sam.
What's Grayson's number?
Sam: Oh well, hello? Haven't talked to you in like three weeks?
You: Been busy and didn't want to talk about it.
Sam: It... being you fucking Grayson?
You: Jesus, Sam, can I just get his number?
As soon as the numbers were in the blue bubble, you clicked it and stuck the phone tightly to your ear, lifting from your bed to pace from wall to wall.
"Hello?" His voice boomed through the speaker, unsuspecting and calm at the unrecognized number.
"Hi, Grayson? Um, its Y/N."
There was a brief pause, and then you could hear shuffling, sounded like he was walking on hardwood, and then closing a door. When he spoke again, his voice was much lower, "Right, Y/N..."
You waited for more, but all you got was dead air. This wasn't a good idea.
"Sorry I shouldn't have called. I just—"
"What, ghosting me wasn't enough; you had to call and say it too?"
Your jaw went slack, and so did your heart, "what? You didn't call me!"
Grayson scuffed, "why would I call you when you literally left without a goodbye? I told you how that stuff wasn't pointless to me, and I wake up to you gone. I'm supposed to be in contact after that?"
Now it made sense, you trusted two imbeciles to relay important information. Information that changed the context completely.
"That's not— I'm gonna kill Samantha," you groaned into the line, your free thumb and pointer finger pinching the skin of your forehead between them.
"For setting you up with me? Sorry I disappointed you."
"That's not-"
"I'm sorry if-"
"Grayson, stop, can you just listen?" You breathed out heavily, "I think there was a misunderstanding... that morning I went to get something to drink, Sam and Ethan were there for whatever reason, even though they both sleep till noon most days. They started asking me questions and asking about what we did, and I was in your t-shirt, and it made me uncomfortable, OK? Sam's my friend but... I was just.. it wasn't my home, and I'm not so open about this stuff, and I got upset with her, and I left because I didn't want her to embarrass me more because even Ethan was chiming in."
The line was dead, like he was processing everything. You were about to check to see if he hung up when his voice came back, "I'm gonna kill him."
You both laughed in synch, so much you couldn't tell your own from his. You wouldn't admit it to him, but a stone had been lifted off your chest, and your reluctance to relish in your relief set the line dead. Grayson shared the same resistance to the happiness that bubbled ever since he'd heard your voice again – the little voice of Ethan in the back of his frontal lobe telling him feeling this was too soon, but why? He liked you, he'd been sad when you left him high and dry. And maybe he was a romantic, but he liked the way your nervousness rivaled his own, the way you blushed and the feistiness that lay beneath all that. And he wanted more, what's wrong with that?
But before saying any of that, he must ask, "Were you embarrassed because you slept with me?" Grayson Dolan looked like he had it all to be a ball of confidence, and sometimes he pretends that to be true because he didn't like the way his voice sounded when he asked questions like this. He seemed like a hurt little boy— and maybe he was because he had been let down so many times before.
"What?" The shock that laced your voice should have been enough, but you went on, "that's not... No, Grayson, the whole night was good. And I don't regret any of it. I'm sorry that I left, I'm an idiot. Sam has a way of getting to me. I should have stayed and just ignored her, let you make me breakfast."
Grayson nodded; once he realized you couldn't see him, he spoke, trying hard to move on from the self-doubt, "well, I do make mean vegan pancakes if you wanna come around again."
You let out a shaky breath, a smile playing on your lips. You finally allowed yourself to sit back down on your bed, the muscles in your shoulders loosening, "are you asking me to stay the night again?"
"Yeah, I am," he laughed, "after another date, though. I really wanna take you to Griffith's Observatory, see the stars at night. Maybe you can point out... the constellation of.. okay, I don't know much about stars, but I'm willing to learn."
You laughed, your hand cupping over your mouth, almost finding it too good to be true that he actually retained everything you said that night. Your shock translated through your silence, then you stumbled for words, "sorry, I— yeah, I'd like that a lot."
"Well, I'll be in Jersey for the rest of the week, but we can do it as soon as I get back. Like, right when I get back."
"Sounds perfect."
He was going to say goodbye, let you go before he could say something stupid, but then he remembered the little place that opened down the street from his house, "Oh, and we can go to the pumpkin patch! It's a little family-owned thing, and they have like haunted houses and apple cider, farm animals too!"
You giggled, and Grayson shook his head, "shit that was too much, wasn't it?"
"No, it was just the right amount. It sounds like we have two dates ready for us."
October 28th, 2019
Sagittarius Horoscope:
You should feel happy and enthusiastic today. Whatever you strive for should be successful, whether it's job related or creative inspiration. Your dedication and organizing talent promise advancement. If you aren't presently involved in a relationship, you might be soon. If you have a partner, look forward to an engagement or marriage. If you're married, expect new closeness.
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Draco. Latin for dragon. The one from Roman legend that had been thrown into the sky after being slain by Goddess Minvera. That went on to be Grayson's favorite constellation. He didn't much care for the story, he just likes how it looked like a snake.
But if you wanted to reiterate the story with your back pressed up against him as you stargazed? Oh, he'd listen forever.
You would go on to show Grayson many stars for many years, and he liked it because they burned bright and made him wonder, but even with all the knowledge you gave him about constellations and galaxies and his sign... His favorite star was always the on planted firmly on the ground next to him.