The Wailing Woman

37. Cruel Intentions

I crossed my arms walking through the foggy path, passing tombstones and mourners visiting their loved ones. The smell of fresh and wilting flowers whisked in the air along with the murmurs of souls standing near their graves. Some were soft, others were anxious, and few expressed gratitude. In a way, the quiet somber mood eased the dull ache on the temples of my forehead but the nerves crawled all over my skin.

It's been seven days since I last saw Grimm and I've been trying to forget about our almost-kiss. So, I decided to bury myself under Dilara's witchcraft books. Translating, learning, and practicing spells and rituals. I'm doing everything I can to find a way to bring Grimm's wings back but balancing my magic and feelings has been very difficult. Something is always breaking. I have lost count of how many cups and plates I've broken.

On a positive note, I have recovered from my injuries with the help of Dilara's ointment. I don't necessarily know what exactly she put in it but it sped up the process and reduced the pain. Dilara has helped a lot although she is constantly worrying about me. I kind of regret telling her some things about my past because I know she pities me and I hate it.

Grimm did come by a few times but I locked myself in my room while Dilara would make him go away by telling him some lie. He didn't believe them but he went away. Now, I wasn't avoiding him. I just didn't want to see him at the moment. I keep going back to what if...what if...what if...what if we did kiss, what would have happened then? Racy images flew across my mind. I lowered my head as heat warmed my cheeks.

I haven't thought about anyone in that way in a long time but I also have never thought about anyone in the way I thought about Grimm. I squeezed my arms tighter and walked faster. I shouldn't even be thinking about him in any way. I lifted my gaze and was immediately captivated by him.

Grimm stood over one of the graves. He was dressed in the appropriate attire, all black as always. His hands were behind his back as his head slightly moved from time to time until his eyes would briefly meet the air and open his reddish lips. He must be speaking to a soul, probably the owner of the grave he stood over. He seemed to be enjoying the conversation as his lips curved in amusement.

Besides having the power of ending someone's life, Grimm had incredible social skills. He was good with everyone, living or dead. I saw it countless times, Grimm sneaking into a conversation and being able to put someone at ease or make them feel uncomfortable. He moved fluidly like a snake. But at least whether he was making you comfortable or uncomfortable, he was there until the very end.

It was strangely comforting. Someone is there for you whether you're a good person or a bad person. Maybe that's what Fate intended for Grimm when she created him, someone, who is there for you at the end of your life and takes your soul's hand to the start of a new one. He walks you through the dark so that you won't be alone.

The conservation I had with Dilara two days ago appears in my head.

"You like him a lot, don't you?" She said,

I shook my head. "If I liked him a lot, I would take my time to find the spell but I'm here searching and reading through as many books as I can to get him out of my life as soon as possible."

She scoffs. "I can't believe you're still denying your feelings for him." I shrugged, flipping to the next page but Dilara snatches the book from my hands and closes it abruptly. "You're only trying to get him out of your life as soon as possible before you fall in love with him." I glare at her.

"Come on, Nora. He clearly likes you too. I have seen the way he looks at you. He is the night sky, and you—" She dramatically pauses, "you're his moon."

I blinked, returning to the present. If we were in a different setting, Grimm would've been described as a madman, a handsome madman. Grimm's gaze sort of met mine, I was wearing overly large sunglasses. I also haven't slept in seven days and you could tell. It's not that I don't want to sleep, I just can't. My mind lately feels like it's spinning, almost as if it were racing against time.