Trainspotters

viii.

"there is a light that never goes out"

—//—

Brie could only focus on one thing right now.

What was wrong with her boyfriend?

Why was he acting the way he's been acting these past few days? He's been more on edge than when they first met, and it was driving her insane. She paces back and forth in her room, pondering, questioning, was there something that Gray wasn't telling her? She could feel it. In his presence, his aura. Deep down, she knows he's frightened for his life. Completely and utterly scared shitless.

She groans in frustration. "God fucking dammit, why won't he just tell me?! It's like he's trying to keep secrets from me."

Paris, watching what was happening, replies, "Maybe he's just too afraid to speak up about it and hurt you."

"I know, but I'm his girlfriend... he shouldn't hide anything from me, I don't care if he has some underlying health condition or whatever."

"Well, that is sweet of you... but give him some time, y'know."

"I gave him all the time he needs! It's been two months, and he hasn't said a word. Two months. I should know everything about him right now."

"Two months is a long time, yeah." Paris sighs. "Still. Don't force him to tell you. Not gonna lie, you can be a bit pushy."

"Please. As if you're any better. You with your fucking anger outbursts, you're so sensitive."

"Shut your mouth! I'm not that sensitive."

"You shut it."

"I'll kill ya."

"Bitch think she's Ghostface," Brie mutters, giggling to herself. Paris smacks her on the head with a pillow. "Ow! Motherfucker—!" Brie groans.

"Deserved."

"Shut up," she laughs.

Paris joins in on the giggling, before getting a message from someone. "Oh, it's Aimee. I gotta go," she announces.

"'Kay. Go have fun."

"Later," Paris waves as she exits the bedroom.

"See ya, peaches."

Brie's left in her room, alone, to ponder, after hearing the door close.

She wants to approach him with so many questions, left running in her mind, but at the same time she doesn't want to force anything out of him. Paris was right — Brie can be pushy.

But sometimes it was needed.

—//—

"Ma, I'm home," Gray calls out as he enters his mother's house. The moment he closes the door and drops his bag near the shoe rack, he takes his scarf off and lets out a huge sigh.

It was warm inside.

"There's my boy," Mila smiles as she hugs her son. "So, how're you doing?"

"Fine."

"Just fine? Nothing else?"

"Well..."

She stares into Gray's eyes a little longer. "Come on, I know something's up. What's on your mind?"

They both walk over to the couch, sitting down, and Gray hugs one of the pillows. "Well... y'know Brie, right?"

"Yes, I know of her. You brought her up a while back."