Page 213 of Lilah
Grey mosies into the living room and I give him a sweet smile. I walk to him and we hug.
"I made a friend," I tell him excitedly when we pull away. He pulls me up to him and he kisses me.
He lets out a small grunt and I deflate a bit. I wasn't expecting much, but a little more than a grunt.
"Her name is Abby and she's really nice," I add, following him as he walks into the kitchen and grabs a water bottle, drinking half of it, and not really paying much attention to me.
I try and ignore the little pang that it sends me.
"Grey, really, what's wrong?" I question softly, placing my hand on his back.
"Nothing," he shakes his head. I remove my hand and only saunter away. If he doesn't want to talk, whatever. But he needs to not take it out on me if he won't tell me the problem.
But he's kept all of his feelings to himself for so long. He's used to only dealing with things by himself. But now I'm here. And I care.
I take a seat on the couch and go on Netflix headed straight for the scary movies section. For some reason, it's Grey's favorite. He shows no interest in almost any genre except horror. It keeps him interested and it keeps me freaked out.
Grey follows me after a few seconds and instead of sitting right up beside me, usually leaning into me, he takes a seat beside me, not touching me.
I bite my lip in confusion.
I pat the spot beside me and Bear jumps up, taking Grey's usual spot. I cuddle him instead of Grey.
I didn't even realize I was drifting off until I'm woken up by the door opening. I blink my eyes and spot Grey entering and shutting the main door behind him.
I sit up and stretch my arms.
"I didn't know you left," I mumble, "you should've told me, I would've gone with you."
"Didn't know I had to tell you," he grumbles and a feeling of hurt I haven't felt in a while washes over me.
I need my big girl britches I think.
"How long have I been asleep?" I question.
"I wasn't counting," he rolls his eyes, "remind me to next time."
I pinch my arm to prevent my eyes from watering.
"Maybe if you tell me what's wrong then it'll help and you won't still be upset. I promise I'll listen and try my best to make you feel better," I explain softly, trying to keep my voice from wavering.
"It's none of your fuckin' business anyways," he turns a gives me a quick glare. One I hadn't seen in forever. I grasp my heart in a way to tell it to stop deflating painfully.
I duck tape my big girl britches on myself.
"You're making it my business by taking it out on me," I tell him strongly, standing from the couch and walking over to him.
"Just tell me and I can help you. Why aren't you telling me?" I question.
"Just like you wouldn't tell me about your dad?" he says bitterly and I take a step back, shocked.
Why would he bring that up?
"Remember how you were supposed to tell me everything? You couldn't even tell anyone your own dad was hitting you, I can keep whatever the fuck I want from you," he nearly sneers.
"You're not entitled," he adds.
My chest constricts in the worst possible way. I blink the blinding tears from my eyes but eventually, they're too heavy to blink away.
