Be My Saving Grace

Forty-seven

Forty-seven

{ tear it down, break the barricade }

It's been two days since Vic and I fought, and we haven't spoken a word to each other. Not that I even cared, he's just a stupid fucking asshole, but anyways. Grace was by my side all day everyday, making sure I didn't do anything that would slow down the healing process.

When Vic had punched me in the gut, he left a massive bruise on my ribs, probably bruised the bone as well. My face was a whole other story. I had the worst black eye I've ever seen, and I had to have a bandaid on my cheek because my face split open when Vic punched me. And my lower lip was swollen and my teeth cut into the inside of my lip, so whenever I ate something hot, it burned.

My knuckles were kinda scratched up, but obviously, I lost that fight. God, I wish I had been able to take him down and beat him to a pulp. Fucking no one talks about Grace that way. Vic is such an ignorant prick and I wish he'd just kick me out of the band, or leave himself, because I'm sure all of us are done with his bullshit.

"Tony, come here," Grace called from the bathroom, "I need to clean the cut on your face again."

I groaned and trudged into the bathroom, "yes, mother," I sighed, smirking at her frustrated facial expression, "I'm kidding baby," I chuckled and quickly kissed her lips.

"Mhmm," she sighed, carefully peeling the bandaid off my face. She lightly poked at the edges of the cut, probably to make sure it wasn't getting infected in the humid air of New Orleans. Once she was satisfied, she got a q-tip and wiped Neosporin onto the wound and put another bandaid on it.

"It hurts," I whined, sticking out my lower lip in a pout.

Grace shook her head, "of course it does, you big baby," she giggled and placed a soft kiss over the bandaid.

I wrapped my arms around her waist and and kissed her nose, "I love you, princess."

"I love you too, Turtle," she replied, nuzzling against my chest as I enveloped her tightly to my chest.

Times like this made me want to drop everything and stay with Grace forever, literally give up everything else, just so I didn't have to leave the comfort of her arms. I wish she could see herself the way I do. She's perfect in every way, and it kills me to see her put herself through hell because she thinks she's not perfect.

"Wanna cuddle all day? Today's my last day off before we play four shows in four days," I asked, nuzzling into her neck, chuckling when she squealed.

Grace grabbed my arm and dragged me to the back lounge, and pushed me down on the couch before sitting on my lap, "anything for you, Turtle," she smiled.

I laid down and pulled her down next to me, "I hope you peed earlier, because you ain't getting up from this spot till I say you can," I instructed, wrapping my arms around her and tangling my legs with hers.

"I did pee earlier, so I guess I'm stuck here with you all day long, eh?" She giggled, poking the tip of my nose.

I chuckled and kissed her fingertip, "you love it!"

"I do, and I love you," she blushed and nuzzled against my chest.

We laid in silence most of the day. Jaime came in a few minutes after Grace fell asleep, "how's she doing? I mean, does it seem like she's getting any better?" He asked, nodding towards Grace's sleeping form.

"There's nothing new on her arms, and the cuts on her thighs look at least a week old," I shrugged, "and she's smiling a lot more..."

"So you think she's getting better?" He chuckled.

I nodded, "yeah, I think she's finally making progress."

"That's great news," Jaime smiled, gently brushing Grace's hair out of her face. "She looks a lot better," he added before leaving us alone.

She never really looked bad. I mean sure, there were cuts on her arms and legs, but she never looked BAD. She was quiet, and kept to herself, but no one would ever guess that she hurt herself on purpose every day. Grace was good at hiding what she felt, and she was good at keeping secrets. I didn't let that scare me though, because she wouldn't keep a secret from me. She told me everything.

Grace let out a tiny groan and stretched her arms above her head. "Good morning, Sleeping Beauty," I chuckled and softly kissed her forehead.

"Fuck off," she grunted, curling herself into a ball at the far end of the couch.

I couldn't help but laugh as she wriggled around, much like a cat, trying to get comfortable. She looked so cute with her knees pulled up to her chin and her arms wrapped around herself. I took a sneaky picture and posted it on twitter with the caption, 'my girlfriend is a cat?' Hey, I think I'm funny.

I smiled to myself and laid down, using Grace's side as a pillow, and slowly drifted to sleep, without a single worry.