Domestic Bliss

10.

I'm not gonna lie - Fezco's words fucking hurt, and I ended up making a huge fucking mistake. Long story short, I went to the dealer on the other side of town, the sleazy dude Grace used to buy weed from. I know, I know. You probably hate me right now - but hey, who'd have thought a bad batch of Molly and a near death experience was all it'd take for me to promise Jules to stay clean? I guess it's kinda ironic that while I was throwing up in her bathroom, promising to lay off drugs, Grace was just getting her first taste of it.

Not five minutes later, Grace was already dancing in his kitchen, while Fezco searched his wardrobe for a clean pair of sweatpants and a hoodie - they had to get her out of her wet clothes before she caught a cold. They also had to figure out what to  tell parents, cuz there was no way Grace was going home high on GHB and whatever else was added to make her this chatty. He could hear her bright voice all the way from the kitchen and knew the high would last for at least a few more hours. 

Grabbing the clothes plus a pair of clean white socks, Fezco left his bedroom, uneasy to leave her alone for too long. He trusted Ashtray with his life, but knew his brother didn't have the necessary patience for dealing with someone this high.

"And yeah, so I told her to fuck off and she actually started crying," Grace laughed as Fezco walked into the kitchen. "I felt so bad about it afterwards!"

Surprisingly, Ashtray, sitting on the counter didn't look annoyed, but almost amused. He hopped down when he noticed Fezco and shook his head with a small smile.

"You gotta get outta these clothes, Grace," said Fezco, walking to the girl with her back to him, swaying her hips to music only she could hear.

Grace turned around, surprised at his arrival and sent him a brilliant smile. "Just like that, huh," she said, her grin turning into a sly smirk.

"You're wet."

"Oh, yeah, that I for sure am," she snorted and tipped her head back in laughter. Ashtray spat out the water he was drinking and coughed while Grace only danced to the other side of the room, spinning past the furniture like a fucking ballerina.

"C'mon, Grace," said Fezco, ignoring her comment, and followed her. "I'm serious."

She paused mid spin and met his eyes with unexpected fierceness. "But I like this hoodie."

The corners of his mouth quirked up before he could help it. Yeah, me too, he thought, but instead said "Aight, you can keep it, but you gotta take it off to dry first."

She bit her lip and seemed to consider the logic behind his words for a second. But then she said a chirpy okay and started pulling it off until her head got stuck and she gave a weak giggle. "Fezco?"

"Yeah, yeah, I got you," he muttered, distracted by the way her wet shirt clung to her figure. After he helped her and the hoodie came off, Grace rewarded him with a beaming smile, her hair messed up, her shoulders slumped in the most relaxed way he'd ever seen her. He'd be hella tempted to kiss her, if she weren't this high. He had been craving for another taste of her for days, the memory of how her lips burned his mouth still fresh in his mind. He'd have to ask her why she tasted of fire once she sobered up.