𝐒𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 || Grayson Hawthorne

One

❥ 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐈 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐃 𝐇𝐈𝐌.

Not specifically him, but voices. Faint echoes would circle through my mind and send shock waves through my body at given times I did not choose.

People ask if i'm fine. I say i'm fine.

But every time I pass that room— that sickening room in Hawthorne House where everything seems to break. My heart implodes, and I remember what he really is.

The man who tried to kill you. Who tried to have his own blood killed.

But then again, i'm much to him. Am I?

It's lonely in Hawthorne House. Sometimes. Only a few more short weeks until Avery receives her inheritance and we'll be able to leave Hawthorne House. That should be exciting.

Avery and Jameson have plans to travel the world. Jameson is already doing so, but Avery and he have strict plans on where they're going as soon as her year is over. Her life is laid out.

And he won't even respond to me. Not when I need him. Never when I need him. It's only when he needs me. I'm doing nothing, so why not answer him?

The wide doors to the great room bursted open, and Avery walked in, almost tripping over her feet. "Evelyn."

I smirked. "Avery."

She gave me a pointed look, like I was a kid who had been caught with candy, like I needed scolding. "Don't look at me like that."

Avery grabbed the bottle of Vodka I had been drinking from the table, shaking her head rapidly. "It's the middle of the day."

"True," I said. "But your boyfriend was the one who installed that bad habit in me." She titled her head at me, and I suppressed a small giggle from escaping my throat.

"That was one night. And I think we've all learned to not day drink after what happened to Graysons poor suit."

Grayson.

I remembered that day, the laughter still ingrained in my head. It was only a couple of months ago, before everything became so complicated. Day drinking with the Hawthorne's would always be disastrous, and me throwing up on Grayson was the finishing point.

But back then we had all laughed. Now we don't. Not really.

"Jameson is coming back today," I pointed out.

Avery smiled, a rosy red color sinking into her cheeks. And amidst all the chaos, seeing Avery Kylie Grambs smile was worth it. My sister deserved all the happiness in the world.

Avery must have realized she was blushing, because she placed her hands on her hips and adapted a stern look. "Stop trying to change the subject." She pointed her finger at me. "You always do that."

"Yet, you let me do so." I pushed up off the couch, made small strides over to Avery, and grabbed the bottle out of her hand.

I walked out of the great room, taking big swigs of Vodka with each step. I heard Avery's footsteps behind me, but I ignored them.

Avery grabbed my shoulder: "Evelyn—"

I heard him before I saw him.

His voice was familiar, like warm honey. That voice— that mouth— the things I had done with it. The way I had kissed his aching lips when the pain was unbearable. The laughs in between. The confessions in the deep of the night when no one else was in the world.

Just us.

Avery dropped her hand, a big sigh leaving her mouth. Clearly, she had been trying to hide something—someone— from me.

"Oh." Jameson looked like he had seen a ghost. His gaze passed me and fixated onto Avery. "I thought you said she wasn't—"

"You said he wouldn't be here till later, I didn't think it was a big deal." Avery gestured toward Grayson.

Grayson kept his eyes forward, not daring to look at me. Of course.

Ring.

My gaze shifted toward the front door. "Who is it?"

"Great question," Jameson answered. Avery rushed over to the front door, hesitating before she opened the door slowly. Her face dropped.

"Oh.. my..."

"Av, what's going on?" I quickened my steps to Avery, but she stopped me before I could see who was at the front door. "Avery!"

"Emily." Grayson said. I snapped my head around to see him somewhere between the state of delusion and panic. My heart ached.

He's still your boyfriend.

"Grayson," I said, making my way over to him. He didn't answer me, and it was as if I wasn't even there. His gaze was glued to the front door, and my brain traced back to what he had just said.

Emily.

"Hey, Grayson?" I placed my hand on the place between his jaw and neck, rubbing it back and forth gently. He shuddered. "It's okay."

He wrapped his shaky hand around mine. "Do you— she—"

"Is he okay?" A voice said. I turned around— and a red haired girl was staring back at me and Grayson. And oh— now I knew what Grayson meant. Why he said Emily, and why Avery had tried so hard to keep the door closed.

"Eve," I said.

Grayson looked at me. "Eve? You know her?"

Of her. "Grayson, I—"

"Eve is for short," the Emily look alike said, her green eyes shooting daggers through mine. "It's Evelyn."

My jaw dropped.

"Holy shit." Jameson must have been thinking what I was— if not already because he was Jameson Hawthorne, but he beat me to it. I couldn't speak.

"Listen, I don't know what's going on, but I need help." Eve looked at Avery with pleading eyes. "It's Toby. He's been taken."
—
❥

a/n:

sigh.. *eve* ....