Broken Hands

151. A phase

It was over—the long holiday they'd spent trying to forget, to breathe, was gone in a heartbeat. Months of rest that were anything but restful. Nothing about the holiday had been good. Nothing clean, nothing pretty. Just bad memories, lingering like ghosts, feeding on the mind's strength.

The soft clatter of pans from the kitchen signaled the start of the morning, their rhythmic clanging drowning out the chirping of birds in the backyard.

"Shiiiiii! Black Butler is out!" Russell's excited voice broke the quiet from the far end of the table.

"Anime?" Grayson's voice followed, low and even.

"Yup! Drake is dropping a hit this week too. It's gonna be the best," Russell grinned, eyes glued to his screen.

Grayson gave a small nod. "That makes your week."

Russell finally looked up, flashing a quick smirk. "Yeah."

Grayson moved toward the table, setting down two plates, one in front of Russell. The scent of freshly cooked food wafted through the air.

Russell took a deep sniff. "Smells good. Where'd you learn to do this?"

Grayson wordlessly removed his apron and settled into his chair, picking up his fork.

Russell took a bite, chewing slowly before nodding in approval. "Good. Good." He pinched his fingers dramatically, like an Italian chef. "Too bad Julian didn't wait behind."

Grayson ate in silence, unfazed by the comment. Russell, however, had been paying attention—Grayson's eating habits had improved. He no longer sat stiffly over his plate, no longer picked at his food like he was forcing himself to chew.

"Don't you have some Yale stuff to do?" Grayson asked eyes on his plate.

Russell swallowed the bite in his mouth. "It's online, no rush. And besides, I won't be there till the end of the year."

Grayson nodded. The rest of breakfast passed in a blur with Russell ranting about anime and games.

It was just the two of them at home. Julian had gone off to school, Alex work, Damien hadn't been home in a few days. Russell was handling his classes online, and Grayson... Grayson was still waiting. Still stuck in limbo, waiting for an acceptance letter that hadn't come yet. Not that he really cared. He hadn't set high expectations either, so he applied to some quiet institution somewhere quiet.

*****

Outside, Russell stood by Rosa's garden, holding a hose, letting water splash over the soil. Grayson, wearing plastic gloves, crouched by the plants, carefully trimming and harvesting ripe tomatoes and legumes.

"Gray! Over there—a bunny."

Grayson glanced up, following Russell's pointed finger. A small black rabbit twitched its nose near the fence, likely from the farm down the street.

Without a word, Grayson rose to his feet, stepping forward with slow, measured movements. His hands shot out at the right moment, quick and precise, and he caught it.

"Didn't know you could hunt," Russell remarked, amused.

Grayson placed the bunny in a small cage before returning to the plants. Once the garden was set, the two of them sank on the bench next to the garden, catching their breath. The sun blazed above them, burning hot against their skin, but neither of them cared.

Russell was getting better. He barely used his crutch now, though he still attended physical therapy for intensive recovery.

"Still haven't heard anything from the schools you applied to?" Russell asked.