Greyson sat out on his deck with his eyes closed as he strummed his guitar and hummed. He was so exhausted, but all he seemed to do lately was sleep. After several days of listening to the guys complain, he actually got up and took a shower earlier that morning, though he didn't bother shaving or cutting his hair. What was the point? He sat there listening as the elevator opened and shut.
"Myrick? Look if you're here to give me more shit, I showered, so screw off," Greyson said loudly. Myrick didn't say anything, which was a relief. Greyson tried to think of a good melody to go with the song he's been trying to write, but everything sounded like shit to him. The heat from the summer sun was making him sleepy once more, but he heard Myrick walking around.
"Are you gonna come out here or not?" Greyson asked as he tried to glance back, but failed. He was too laid out.
"This is nice," her voice caught him by surprise. Greyson immediately tried to jump up, but some how managed to roll off the side of the chair. When he looked up, she was staring at him with a small grin. Greyson quickly got to his feet and set his guitar to the side.
"Briar? What are you- how did you?" He couldn't think straight, she was here. Why was she here?
"I sprouted wings and flew, it's amazing what thirty-thousand dollars can buy," she giggled. Greyson grinned, but then his face fell when his gaze drifted to her hand.
"Is that?" He swallowed the lump in his throat.
"Oh, this thing? This stupidly romantic letter you wrote me and just left on my front door along with the keys to Joe's? Yea, we need to talk about this," her attitude slightly shifted, but she didn't seem angry.
"Why didn't you say anything to me at the wedding?" Briar asked, not bothering to hide the hurt. Greyson opened his mouth, but she held up her hand.
"No, you just left. You didn't say goodbye, you said goodnight. You just took off and left me this saying goodbye?" Briar continued as a tear fell down her cheek. Greyson looked away. "Were you that afraid I would reject you?"
"What'd you expect? You already had just days before?" Greyson looked up, feeling hurt himself.
"I told you I was sorry. I know that doesn't go extremely far, but I am. Greyson I-"
"Why are you sorry? What is there to be sorry for? You were right. I've been going over and over it in my mind how to make this right. Trying to figure out how we can be together and me still live this life. I just don't know what I'm doing. I love you Briar, but I can't fix this. I don't know what the hell I'm doing," he sighed and ran his hands through his hair stressfully.
"You think I do? You're the first man I've genuinely been with in years. The first man who's given me the time of day, not just taken me out and then left. Then you actually do leave me, confirming everything I've ever feared, and leave me this, and what?" She stepped closer. Greyson shrugged and shook his head as he looked up.
"I don't know what. I couldn't face you, okay? And to be technical, you left me first, even with me begging you not to. You threw it in my face in front of everyone that I apparently can't love you, and now that I had gotten what I wanted from you to just leave. How did you want me to react?" Greyson's voice became harsher than he meant to.
"I-I don't know," she whispered and looked at the ground as she wrapped her arms around herself.
"I'm not mad at you, and you don't have to keep apologizing, but I can't help but be afraid of the next time you decide that we can't be together without actually just talking to me," Greyson threw up his hand in her direction for emphasis.
"This was clearly a mistake," Briar sighed as she looked up to the side and turned to leave. Greyson quickly walked in her path from the door.
"No, you're going to sit here and talk to me, dammit," Greyson bit out as she went to shove past him.
YOU ARE READING
Dandelion
RomanceLove finds us at the strangest times. Call it fate, call it luck or call it just crazy... but once it's here there's no stopping the fall. Briar Rose Davis lives her life day to day, just trying to make the best of the worst. A widow, a single mothe...