Graceless

Neuf

Dedicated to @alterrealit for an awesome thread she made c:

-EDITED 19/10/15-14/05/16

IX

                  

My fingers tapped absently on the worn wooden table of the familiar coffee shop. The air was warm but I felt extremely cold and nervous. Eyes trained on the people shuffling be outside I didn't notice the girl standing beside me.

"Would you like anything miss?" the girl smiled at me gently with her small notepad hidden behind her fingers.

"Um, me?" I stumbled foolishly.

"Yes dear," She giggled, "Why you're the only one there."

"She'll have a cup of water and I'll have a slice of lemon cake and a cup of black coffee," I stiffened at the voice behind me and relaxed slowly. It's just Knox, Grace...

"Oh, um... Okay," the girl stuttered and gazed slack jawed over my shoulder, "I'll be back in a few minutes, we're out of cake but um, I'll have one made."

She hurried away quickly, he laughed softly and made his way to the seat in front of me, making a point of looking at me.

"Could you stop?" heat crawled up my neck.

"Stop what?" He asked innocently and raise an eyebrow at me.

"Staring at me."

"Why?" he breathed, "You're extremely beautiful Grace. You have no idea the effect you have on people. On me."

"On men..." I trained my eyes on the people walking by out the glass window "I called you here to tell you the truth not to—

"You don't have to tell me anything if you don't want to Grace," his voice travelled to me above the noise cutting me off, "I'm not your psychiatrist anymore. You're not obligated to tell me anything."

My breathing hitched and I looked around us, the crowded coffee shop, the scent of freshly grounded beans hung in the air as closely as possible to the voices of the nameless sonders which buried my own in a deep hole that I only hoped Knox was in to hear. I stopped fingering the lid of the cup and set my eyes on his. They were still and trying. The girl returned with our drinks and Knox's cake a few minutes later and hurried away quietly once again.

Oh the effect of beautiful people.

"You don't have to tell me about it," his lips moved in perfect sync with his voice as soon as she left.

"I want to," I cleared my throat and said more surely, "I want to."

His eyebrows converged, lips pursed and those intelligent silver orbs were set on his cup and his empty plate where the faint dust of cake stood.

"I'll tell you piece by piece," I bit my lip trying not to smile, "It's a puzzle that you'll have to figure out."

He looked up at me quickly and there was a horrified glint in his eyes.

"When I was fourteen," I started as soon as he opened his mouth to protest, "My parents left me home alone on a Saturday night—I'm an only child by the way—they always did this every Saturday night it was their 'date night'. I remembered being so excited that I was finally being left home alone, usually they got me a baby sitter and my friends teased me on end about it. I mean, what fourteen year old had a babysitter?!" He chuckled lightly and I smiled, "So, I'm halfway through my horror movie marathon and junk food eating spree when I realised that my parents weren't back yet. It was way past midnight, they were usually home by eleven.

I decided to call them when I saw about a dozen missed calls from numbers I didn't know, I tried calling them back but no one answered. About five seconds after, there was an aggressive knock at the door, I was terrified—it was past midnight and someone was at the door knocking like a maniac, how was I supposed to feel?—but I answered it anyway." I bit my lip and looked at the old worn wooden table, "I guess you know what happened next."

"It was the police." He stated and I nodded, "Your parents died in an accident, they were run over by a drunk driver."

I cleared my throat and continued because that was not the tragedy of my sad little life. I missed my parents dearly, yes, but I did not mourn them I was a selfish little bitch and I mourned myself. They were at peace.

"I spent the weekend in a community home, it was awful!" my stomach churned at the memory "I just wanted to get out of it so badly and when I did, that very Monday morning, it was the best day of my never ending sob story of a life," my voice cracked on the last word closed my eyes for a few seconds, counting away the tears.

"That's it?" he asked quietly.

"Yes," I looked him in his eyes, "For now, at least."

There was a quick moment of silence where it seemed like the entire world was quiet. There was no noise nor interruptions. Nothing but silence and the sound of fingers tapping against wood.

"I was always the 'perfect child', my mother was a single parent. She worked so hard. All she wanted was for me to succeed, she knew that there was something special about me. I started reading when I was six months old," he chuckled and I opened my eyes slowly and he was smiling at me, really smiling, "My mum she would not let me forget it. I started playing the piano when I was two years old, even though we could barely afford it she enrolled me in a very prestige early learning school when I was three. I graduated high school when I was ten, I skipped grade after grade. I had no friends, no fun, the children my age were outside playing while I was inside, in a class room; studying and the only playing I did was on the piano or violin or cello or whatever stupid instrument they forced me to play. The people in my classes didn't like me, at all. I tried to kill myself once... or twice... I was unhappy and my mum she just wasn't seeing it. No one was seeing it. All my mum saw was her hard work and effort paying off, she just got pissed every time I tried it"

"But you're not dead," I examined him, he stopped playing with his empty cup and smiled at me.

"Amazingly Grace," he chuckled dryly, "I'm not. When I was eighteen I didn't get herpes—like normal people do—, I got my PhD. Sure, which should be a great thing, right? All of my colleagues were old, married and had children. I realised that I wasn't happy Grace. I wasn't doing things normal teenagers did, I was not out having fun and living my life how I wanted to live it. I didn't belong anywhere, I was either too 'old' for the people my own age or too 'young' for my colleagues. After two years of dealing with people...I...I..."

He hesitated and his voice broke, I bit my lip and dropped my eyes from his face, I felt like I was intruding, seeing him like this. Seeing him. We were covered in noise but we were alone. I didn't know what to feel for him, honestly. I don't have it in me to feel much for anyone anymore. But then again Grace, he isn't everyone.

"I tried it again recently and my mother was not having it, she told me to come here. To start over, she told me that I didn't have to do this anymore, helping people I mean, she just told me find myself."

"Well, have you?" I bit my lip still not looking up at him.

"Stopped helping people?" He asked genuinely and I glanced up him slightly.

"Found yourself," I whispered, the hole was being filled quickly and he was no longer in it, he could no longer hear me.

He blinked slowly, not opening his eyes and exhaled, "I don't know, Grace."

--

A/N

Hi there! :D please share your thoughts and support c: Thank you for reading!

♥

Love always,

Fleur.