Having Grace

5.

Roman's P.O.V

I think I scared her tonight.

All night, she tossed and turned. I couldn't sleep, so I stood at the foot of the bed and watched her.

She groaned more than usual. She muttered out a few no's and don't. What am I doing?

What am I doing to her? She is nineteen. She is still vulnerable and naive. What has she been doing to me?

I had been avoiding her deliberately this week. But I've been seeing her.

She isn't the same Grace that I knew. She wasn't in her bright orange skirt, or a red blouse or her pink heels.

She said her outfits were fun.

I thought they were an eyesore.

But Grace thought everything was fun. She was a happy girl. She saw the world in all its true glory.

Until last weekend.

Now whenever I saw her this week gone, she was harder to spot. She stayed with darker or plain shades.

She stayed with black, whites and greys. Every day this week.

I craved to see that floral blue print skirt, the yellow polka dotted shirt. Those purple flared pants, her black knee high boots that sat below her pink dress.

She use to greet people with wide smiles, warm gestures and kind words.

Now all I saw from her at work when I had seen her were little fake smiles, and formal greetings.

That's what I really craved. That wide smile, even if it wasn't for me.

Each day I wished for that smile, those bright colours. But whenever I saw her, she was in a white blouse and grey skirt, sometimes donning a grey jacket.

She has lost her spark. Her colourful world was fading to what most people see.

I didn't want that.

It was well after one in the morning when Grace calmed down in her sleep. I climbed in to bed and laid on my side, watching her.

I should be able to sleep easier now, I thought to myself.

I was nearly there too when Grace rolled over and her head went into my chest. I usually wake before her and I never told her about what she does in her sleep.

I don't tell her a lot of things. I need to, I want to, but my mouth won't cooperate.

A hand glided over my waist as I smiled. Now I can go to sleep.

****

I finished making the coffees and took them up to the bedroom.

Grace was still asleep, ungracefully, as I placed hers on the bedside table. I was already dressed for the day in jeans and shirt as I sipped my coffee, watching and waiting.

Her blonde hair was all over the place as she rolled on to her stomach. I saw the little flower on her back and it brought back a memory of her.

She had threatened me with getting face piercings. Dying her hair green.

I knew she was baiting me up.

Then she said something about getting a tattoo. That is pretty permanent, and could leave scarring if removed.

I told her she would not dare of doing such a thing. But it was how she walked up to me and the way she had whispered I was too late that had me still.

Not from anger, but curiosity, it filled me. I wanted to know how many she had, what did they look like and where they were.

So far I had counted two. A bird on her foot and a flower on her shoulder.

I heard a moan as I gazed at Grace.

In the past thirty minutes, she had made herself a cocoon that covered her stomach and a leg, the other leg spread out over the bed, her head buried in the pillows and an arm hanging off the bed.

She rolled over on to her back and looked at the ceiling.

I wanted to say good morning. There is a coffee for you, but that didn't come out right.

"Coffee there. Get up and showered. We are going out." I walked out the door with my mug, mentally hitting myself for saying that. Why do I sound so harsh?

Grace didn't argue with me and obeyed and I wanted to know why. Why is she obeying? Is this about last Friday? She shouldn't let one thing stop her from being, well, her.

Grace came downstairs in a dark grey skirt and a light tan shirt on, her boots in one hand and coat in the other.

"No. Something casual." I said as she immediately turned, looking surprised.

"But, work?"

I shook my head as she lowered hers, a deep frown on her face.

"Something bright, so you can't get lost." I lied.

It took longer this time for her to reappear and I went upstairs to investigate.

She was still wearing what I told her no to as she stared at her clothes in the drawer.

"Come on!" I told her.

"I... I... Don't know what to wear." She admitted.

I arched an eyebrow. Grace Griffin doesn't know what to wear? She has changed.

"Something casual. Throw on a skirt and shirt."

"I don't want to wear anything bright." She looked at me with a hollow look.

I frowned. So she has been avoiding it. "Why not?" I snapped. "I told you before not to and you deliberately came in the next day wearing something even brighter."

"I don't want to attract attention to myself." Came her very soft reply.

I scoffed at her. "Since when? You always loved being the centre of attention, princess."

Her quietness confirmed it. She didn't want to because of Friday. It has really shaken her. I went to the closet and pulled out a blue floral long skirt.

I gave it to her and stood in front of her. "Don't let one incident change who you are. That's you telling them they won. Isn't that what you always do to me?"

Grace nodded slowly. She always defied me.

"Prove to them that they lost."

Grace nodded again and I left her there, staring in to the fabric of her skirt.

A couple minutes later, she finally appeared and walked in front of me to the car.

I held a small victory smile as I watched her get in, in her magnificent blue clothes.