meet me in the woods ☾grayson dolan au

s e v e n t e e n

[ 17 ]

△
He didn't know how long he had been at the kitchen island, he only knew that the light from outside was now shining directly into the room. Everything was shining as it basked in the warm sunlight, even the knife that still continued to lay by the front door.

To his right the floorboards creaked and he snapped his head to see the source.

"I really don't feel like having a conversation with you right now," Grayson groaned and ran a heavy hand down his face.

Ethan placed his own hand on his chest, "oh right, because wouldn't you rather stab me instead? With a fucking kitchen knife in place of a friendly 'hello'?"

"You heard that?"

Ethan hopped onto the counter across from the island, swinging his feet in a passive manner.

"Oh I watched it," his eyebrows rose. "Had front row seats to the fuck up of the year. Maybe even the century."

Grayson let out a long, loud groan and stared down at his fingers, picking the dirt from under his fingernails.

"Do you even know anything about her?" Ethan asked.

Grayson shook his head in confusion. It seemed like such an obvious question.

"Of course I know things about her," he retorted and shot a glare. How dare he doubt him.

Ethan crossed his built arms and walked over so he was leaning over against the island. "Look me in the eyes and answer my questions truthfully."

Grayson straightened up and crossed his own arms, "Okay."

"What's her mother's name?" Ethan questioned. "Her father? Did she have any siblings?"

Grayson ignored him out of defiance. He didn't know, but he wouldn't just tell him that.

"What's her favorite food?"

He said nothing as he lost his tall posture, instead rubbing at a dried stain on the countertop.

Ethan chuckled lowly at the sight, "You don't know. That's sad. You have to at least know her favorite color?"

Grayson just looked up at his brother with a blank stare that was clear he wanted to be left alone. Ethan chose to ignore it despite the way his jaw clenched.

"You're clueless, little brother-"

Grayson stopped him short, "I'm not you're little brother."

"But I was born first, so technically I'm the big brother-"

"I lived longer," Grayson whispered under his breath, not thinking that Ethan would be able to hear him.

Ethan nodded, leaning back on the counter and putting his hands up in defense.

"I bet you thought about that for a while, haven't you?"

Grayson said nothing and went back to picking at his fingernails.

"Do you love her?"

"Honestly, I don't know what love is anymore."

"Did you ever?"

Now he really didn't want to be talking to him. He wanted to scream at him to leave him alone but he knew Ethan wouldn't go. Ethan on the other hand sensed his tension and scrambled through his mind without a trace of manipulation.

"Answer me, Gray-"

He cut him short again, his head and heart racing with hurt at the nickname. "First of all, don't call me that. And second, love isn't real. It doesn't exist. It's a lie and I was blind not to see the truth until now."

"Are you sure you know what's even real and not real anymore?"

The kitchen went silent for a second. Grayson took a deep breath and glanced at his brother. Ethan tapped his fingers in a rhythm against the cold marble.

"I believe so."

"Believing only gets you so far. In order to understand what you believe, you must discover. Once you discover, only then may you find what is real and what is not."

"Oh fuck off," Grayson waved him away. "You're so full of bullshit."

"It's time you grow a pair and see the world how it really is, little brother."

When Grayson looked back up, Ethan was gone. Only the shadow of his body remained, covering the wall where the light failed to paint. He sighed and watched it move in a single movement. His hand was placed next to his head, his index finger tapping in a steady beat against his temple.

"Think about it, little brother," the shadow spoke. "Find the real world and then come find me when you can't handle it."

The figure then disappeared until the light once again filled in the wall.

"Fuck off," he whined, grabbing his head in his hands and resting it on the kitchen countertop.