Repent: Gwyllomay of the Darkness (1.5) (MANUSCRIPT)

Chapter 19, Rallying Brandon Yuichi (re1)

     "Gwyllomay, now do you understand?" Grace looked up at me from her seat on the couch. 
      I said nothing, only nodding
      "I can't look at my brother the same way again! Ever again! I carried him home. I cooed him from crying fits every night, while I told myself I wasn't going to cry, in order to keep up his morale! It was just us. For a long time. You wouldn't know much about that. The Lord of Polidoria, who constantly had people throwing themselves at him. Hmph! I raised him. Daniel was like... my first child. I helped him grow. I kept him from our father's secret life, or, at least, I tried. I tried, you know? I really did! But now-" 
      "But now... your brother has become like the creature who killed your parents." My eyes narrowed.
      My focus swam down to Grace's hands. She was venting, and I felt every inch of her pain. Her strife made my stomach ache. 
      Grace scowled. "A bit frank of a way to put it, but yes." 
      "Hm. I apologize, your grace." I bowed, my arm cutting over my abdomen. "Mhmhmhm. That pun was very unnecessary, wasn't it?" 
      "Yes, it was!" 
       I took a deep breath. "I believe we should talk about all this later." 
      "No, wait. Gwyllomay, I- I have something I'd like to confess." 
      "Well, I'd like to hear what you have to say, but there's someone at the door." 
      "What? How do you- How do you know that?" 
      "I can smell him." 
      "Right. Forgot. You vampyres can do that. Smell. Hmph. You're a dog, you know that?" 
      "Aw, thanks! What kind of dog, though? Cute puppy or... killer hound?" 
      Grace's eyes lowered. "Sometimes I think you're both. Mostly a killer hound, with a side of cornpup." 
      "What... the... fuck is a 'cornpup'?" 
      Grace blinked, a hand over her mouth, and a pair of widened eyes, with bags underneath. "Oh. Oh my! Did I just say that? Ohohoho! I'm hungry. I'm very hungry, Gwyllomay. Must've been a Freudian slip?" 
      "Um. But cornpups aren't a food either." 
      "Oh! Wait. It was a 'corndog' I had been thinking of." Grace snapped her fingers in realization. 
      "Ah. Yes. How quaint. 'Pigs in a blanket'. 'Fried hotdogs'. 'Vienna sausages stoked with bread'. 'I regret eating the eighth one'. Hm. Nonetheless, you have a man at the door who smells of vanilla beans and rain." 
      Grace stood up quickly just then, her knees barely grazing the coffee-table below her. "Um. That's strange. Those things sound so familiar, oddly enough. I don't know if I like the sound of that. Could it be... Ricardo?" 
      I rolled my eyes. "And why would it be him?" 
      "Because he sounds like the kind of guy who'd smell of vanilla and beans!" 
      "Y- No. I'm envisioning a different face in my mind. It's not Ricardo. But a name just isn't... coming to me. And yet, I know that I've been somewhat acquainted with this guy before." 
      "Are you sure it's not Ricardo?" Grace clenched her fists. 
      "Yes, deary." 
      "D- Deary?" 
      "Hmph. I like calling you affectionate names, because I think you're adorable. Deal with it, as the hip kids these days say." 
      Grace shook her head, yet ultimately conceded an exasperated sigh. "So who-" 
      "HELLO! ORDER FOR DELIVERY! DID ANYONE ORDER THIS CEREAL BOX?" 
      Jesus fucking pig-juice on rye! This stranger's voice barked so loud that it sounded like they were practically standing inside. That tone of talking, and that diction, both sound similar to a certain man I met last night, too. His face is coming, in full throttle this time, to my imagination.
      Also, nobody here ordered a cereal box. What the- 
      "NO. WAIT! BAD LINE! THAT WAS-- Um. That was... um--" The stranger behind the door cleared his throat, his yells muffled by the metal portal. "Um! Pizza? PEOPLE LIKE PIZZA, RIGHT? I MEAN, I'M PRETTY SURE I EVEN LIKE PIZZA! I've never had it before. DOES IT TASTE LIKE CHICKEN?" 
      Okay. 
      Yes. 
      I'm certain of it. 
      This man, whoever he is, must be an absolute fruitcake to have never eaten pizza. It's one of the most common delicacies across this planet. The most common of diners have it, from the cheapest, to the most needlessly pricey. 
      "One moment, sir! I'll unlock the door." Grace walked around the coffee-table and positioned her gaze directly to the kitchen. 
      "JUST KIDDING! I DON'T HAVE PIZZA! Just my two bare hands. I CAN MAKE A PIZZA FOR YOU, IF YOU WANT, THOUGH! IT'S LIKE A KIND OF DONUT, RIGHT?"