The Inheritance Games: Bad Things Happen To Everyone...

Pov: Grayson

I can feel the warmth of Averys hands on my chest.
i can feel the pain of what we once had. of what might still be there. i steel myself. now is not the time.

snap out of it grayson. you are a Hawthorne.
you are better than this.
you are the one asking the questions here.
"did i not tell you? hands off." it pains me to have to talk to her like this. to have to distance her like this. but i must do what needs to be done. it is the Hawthorne way.

Avery is not the priority right now.
Jameson is.

Avery is the reason that my little brother is lying in that bed. i know it.

shes staring at me. the browns and greens of her eyes sparkling in the sunlight pouring in from the window.
"Gray..."

that undoes me. i want to break. i want to back down. but im Grayson Hawthorne.

suddenly the first conversation we had starts to play in snippets in my head.

"a boy who thinks he knows everything,"
"a girl with a razor-sharp tongue,"

then:

"nothing. you just have a very expressive face, thats all"

the way she looked at me then, and the way shes looking at me now, its the exact same. only this time she looks more concerned. for me.
and
suddenly im remembering the time she first met nan. when she realized that we were- and still are- grieving. a wave of emotions crossed her face then, she looked as if it hit her like a tsunami. then she got up to leave and that bastard constantine grabbed her hand. she left and met jamie. jamie who loves her wholely and absolutely in the one time Hawthorne way of loving. it was never emily for him. before, he always wanted more. now, he can see that he is enough. he knows that he doesnt need more.

looking down at her im overtaken by a tsunami of emotions of my own.

her beauty is truly captivating, defined by the enchanting combination of the piercing green and golden brown of her hazel eyes. the way they sparkle with intelligence and warmth reflects the depths of her soul. each glance feels like a journey into a world of endless possibilities. her silky hair frames her face with an ethereal glow, adding to the allure of her presence. in every detail, she embodies a rare elegance that continues to mesmerise me again and again. the unique charm she effortlessly carries is impeccable. beyond her physical beauty, its her kind and caring soul that truly sets her apart. her compassion radiates a spectrum of colours, touching the lives of those around her, including my own. she always demonstrates a genuine concern for the well-being of others. be it through a comforting gesture, a thoughtful word, or a selfless act, her kindness creates a comforting haven, making everyone feel valued and understood.

stop it grayson.
stop it right now.

this fantasy was never a thing. you werent made for eachother. you werent ever supposed to end up together.
you wont.
ever.

but even so, i cant help but remember the tiny shock i felt as i corrected her grip on the longsword. or the way she followed me through the maze, or the way she trusted me fully.

and the way i stood there. as my fathers bomb exploded. frozen. letting her almost die.

"Grayson Davenport Hawthorne." she says sternly, her tone surprises me. her eyes soften and concern is openly shown on her face. "tell me whats really going on, i know. i know that youre not okay. and thats fine. weve been through this before. you dont always have to be perfect. theres no such thing. you can depend on others for a change. sometimes, you have to."

my subconscious thoughts want to bring me back to that day in the wine cellar. but i dont let it.

i shut my eyes and breathe. keep it together. there are no room for mistakes.
at least, not for this Hawthorne.

i feel her, watching. i slowly open my eyes to look at jer. at her beautiful, delicate face. its the piercing gaze of her eyes makes me give in. "fine." i say, feeling my eyes narrow. "go shower. then meet me in your room. well talk then." she nods, half surprised that i actually gave in and i feel my lips twitch upwards, ever so slightly. i give her a look and she realizes her hands are still pressing against my chest, she flushes and steps to the side, watching as i turn to leave to where Jameson is sleeping.