You can save anyone from themselves, as long as you get to them quick enough.
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"Hazel. . .are you avoiding me?"
"Uh. . .were you waiting behind the door this whole time?"
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"Was any of it real?"
"Everything. Since the beginning."
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"You would th...
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『••✎••』
Hazel sat in the metal chair in front of Grayson's cell. She tried keeping her face void of emotion, seeing how the blond looked her up and down. His face looked almost peaceful, which annoyed Hazel to no end. It wasn't like she would comment or even react, but still.
"I told Coulson weeks ago that I was willing to speak to you, to give you intelligence," Grayson wondered, frowning with what Hazel could only recognize as confusion. "Why now? Something bad happened?"
Hazel sighed a bit as she leaned back on the chair, crossing her legs as she looked up at him. "Carl Creel. Garrett reported him dead. Turns out he's alive. Do you have any information on that?" She asked as she looked at Grayson, her eyebrows lifting slightly in curiosity.
Instead of answering the question, Grayson looked at her momentarily, his head tilting to the side as he asked. "How have you been?" He wondered, earning a roll of eyes from the shorter girl.
Hazel gave him a few more minutes to try an answer. As Grayson stayed quiet, she stood up from the chair, determination in her eyes.
"The name sounds familiar," Grayson quickly mentions, moving closer to the yellow line that indicated his cell. "Do... you have a picture?"
Hazel let out a small breath as she looked down at the tablet, holding it up to his face to show off the picture of Creel. She watched as Grayson looked at the picture for a second, his eyes shifting to Hazel as he stared at her for a little longer than usual.
"Anything?" Hazel wondered as she looked at Grayson, slightly annoyed at his antics. She watched as he leaned towards the tablet, only to be stopped by the laser grid separating them.
Grayson looked back at the picture, leaning back so as not to get electrocuted, seeing how Hazel glanced around the cell. Her eyes fell on the scars on his hands and his wrists.
"I know. I have done horrible things, and I deserve everything I am getting," Grayson started, raising his hands to show he wasn't a threat to her. "But I have gone through my rough patch," he started as he took a deep breath, trying to find the usual sympathy in Hazel's eyes. Or the anger, the disappointment. Instead, he was met with nothing. "I have tried getting the easy way out... I mean, buttons, paper, even running at the walls."
"You should've run faster, " Hazel suggested as she looked at Grayson, her eyebrows furrowing only slightly.
"That's the thing... I'm through all that. Now, I'm thinking on a clear head; I have been thinking a lot more... about who I am and what I've done," Grayson explained, Hazel's face still void of emotions as she kept her attention on him. "When... We were at the dinner; you said maybe I didn't know what I was part of... maybe you were right."
