Cracks of a Mirror

"Let's run away."

"Where did you disappear off to?"

Grayson remained unresponsive as he closed their cabin door. He stepped out of his shoes, wincing as the cold hardwood floor met with his bare feet. He had forgotten to fetch his socks from - he shook his head, unable to even think of the man's name at the moment.

Eliza glanced up from her novel, her eyes vacant of emotion. "You alright?"

Grayson tossed his suit jacket somewhere on the floor, falling into a loveseat. "Fine."

The woman propped on the grand bed, her hardcover of Jane Eyre in hand, looked unfazed with his reply. She nodded, returning to her novel without a second thought.

Grayson couldn't resist the bitter, mocking chuckle that escaped his lips.

"Do you love me Liz?"

"Of course."

"Of course, what?"

"Of course I do."

Grayson looked into the mirror ironically placed before him. How it mocked him. He clenched his fist, swallowing down the harsh feeling in his throat.

"Say I quit acting, forget Jeffrey and his movie, and we move to the country after our wedding? Would you run away with me, Liz?"

At last Eliza set down her novel. Her brows contorted in confusion, displeasure.

"Grayson."

"Just you, I and the country." Grayson continued. His eyes had glossed over, obviously lost in memories from a time faraway. "Under the stars in hay fields, night drives and early morning swims. Let's run away, Liz."

Eliza sighed, as if her fiancé's monologue had tired her out of her mind.

"Sweetie, I know you're nervous about the movie. It's your first major role on the big screen - it's normal to have cold feet."

"No Liz, forget the movie -"

"But listen to me." Eliza interrupted, rising from the bed and stalking over to her fiance. She climbed into his lap, bringing a hand to cup his cheek. "We need this movie, baby. This is our big break okay. No ifs, ands or buts about it. If you'd like, perhaps we can take a trip to the country for Christmas though, honey."

Grayson felt his soul ache. As his soon to be wife pecked him on the cheek, rose up from his lap and stalked off to the bathroom, he concluded that his fiancee didn't love him more than she loved her Prada bags. Besides, he figured, she wasn't the one he wanted to run off to the country with anyways.

Ethan woke up incredibly hungover, as well as incredibly sore. The limp in his walk did not go unnoticed by Cameron.

"I pulled a hamstring." Ethan lied, badly may one add. But Cameron, all knowing Cameron, had more sense than to further question her brother's excuse.

The hour was quite early, nine a.m. to be precise, and the Dolan family and certain members of the Wells family had been called for the wedding pictures. Dressed in a classic black suit he'd fetched from his father, Ethan stood far off from the rest of the family.

"Ethan, hon, come closer."

The photographer agreed with Mrs. Dolan, asking Ethan to not only come closer but do the one thing he had dreaded. "Stand beside the groom, please."

Ethan took a deep breath, eyes glued to the floor as he walked over to his assigned location. He bit the inside of his cheek to rid himself of any transparent emotions on his face as he inhaled the scent of the man he knew so well.

"Smile."

It came barely as a whisper, so much so that Ethan wondered if he had heard correctly.

"What."

"Smile. Think of the time at the skatepark. Mrs. Kurt. Banana peels. Bright pink panties." Grayson muttered, his voice quivering.

Ethan instantly knew what he was talking about. How could he ever forget? He hadn't ever laughed that hard.

Yet, as the photographer clicked his camera, the brothers couldn't bring themselves to even crack a grin, forget laughter. In truth, their identical eyes glistened with unshed tears, hurt and yearn that couldn't quite be identified in the photograph unless you looked real close. 

A/N: Thank you so much for the overflow of comments. They seriously motivate me so much and I am so grateful that people care about my work. Hope you enjoy this update<3