Safe Hands

39. BE HAPPY

The luxurious Smith home was quiet as it was supposed to be on a Sunday afternoon with everyone minding their business. The cool breeze danced with the curtain of the window as Grayson worked on the wall. He was at it again, drawing graffiti on the wall. His concentration was intense as he added intricate details to his latest creation. The room was filled with the smell of fresh ink from murdered pens, and his hands were covered in dark colors.

Sounds of approaching footsteps echoed in his hearing. It was not Alex or Damien; the footsteps were relaxed. It wasn't Julian's either; they were heavy. Neither was it Russell's; they were steady. Grayson pulled the curtain over his work and waited for the intruder to show up.

The door creaked open—it was Raymond. He walked in with a wide smile. In his mid-twenties, Raymond had a casual, laid-back vibe that made his electric blue eyes light up. He wore a simple t-shirt and jeans, the kind of guy who looked like he belonged on a bike rather than in a house. His hair was short and wavy blond, and he had an easygoing charm that made people instantly comfortable.

"Hey, Grayson," Raymond greeted. Grayson ignored him as usual.

Raymond deep his hands in his jeans pocket, "Oh... okay." He trailed off as he invited himself beside Grayson, who returned to his work.

"Cool, you're an artist!" Raymond chirped.

Grayson glanced over his shoulder. "What do you want?" It sounded distant.

Raymond paused, making eye contact with him with a grin still on his face. He shrugged innocently. "I'm here to join in," Raymond said, picking up a pencil. Grayson watched him with intent eyes and a blank expression. Raymond was not bothered and instead began to work on a blank section of the wall, his movements deliberate but a bit clumsy.

Grayson watched him for a moment before shaking his head with a chuckle. "You totally suck at this. But with more practice, you can maybe sign your name."

Raymond laughed, a deep, infectious sound. "I'll take that as a compliment. How about you show me how it's done?"

Grayson rolled his eyes but carried on. As Raymond moved closer, he demonstrated a few techniques with swift, practiced motions. Raymond tried to mimic him, but it was clear he lacked the finesse.

"Okay, I admit defeat," Raymond said, raising his hands in surrender. "You're the master here."

Grayson's lips tugged in a small smile that was hidden under his demeanor.

"Where did you learn it though?" Raymond asked.

Grayson added a touch to his latest design. "I worked with some black kids in the past. They taught me."

Raymond nodded skeptically but did not ask any more questions.

He clapped Grayson on the back and he flinched slightly. "How about we take a break? Do you fancy a game?" he grinned, ignoring the flinch.

Grayson hesitated for a moment, his usual wariness flickering in his eyes. "No."

Raymond pouted, "It would be brief, and I really want to prove to you that I don't suck at something."

Grayson shrugged on one shoulder, "Okay." He added, causing Raymond to grin wide.

The sun was high in the sky, casting a warm glow over the basketball court. Julian and Russell were already there, dribbling a ball between them. Julian's face lit up when he saw Grayson, while Russell huffed and muttered something.

"Finally decided to join us, huh?" Julian teased.

"I bet you can't keep up," Russell added, a challenge in his tone.