binded

zane ; prince charming

While sitting under the pier with Grace, I notice her brown eyes locked on my legs. She seems concerned, but is also unfazed. I pull the neo chrome vape pen from my pocket and take a long hit. After allowing myself to taste the sweet flavor for a few seconds, I blow the smoke out from my nostrils and let the wind carry it away.

"Have you ever felt...that the life you are living isn't your own?" she asks, twirling the pen between her fingers,"Like you were born to be something you aren't?"
Story of my goddamn life.

All I do is nod, leaning back as a large wave collides with the pillars keeping the old wooden pier from collapsing. Grace goes quiet, collecting sand into her hand and then lets it slowly fall into a pyramid pile.

"What about this..." she turns her head to look at me as I inhale more vapor, "Have you ever felt that life wasn't complete without something. How Cinderella needed the glass slipper or Rapunzel her long locks. They developed the story and...were needed for it to conclude and end in a happily ever after?"

Part of her phrasing confuses me, but it also makes sense. The glass slipper wasn't the entire story, but it was a reason why Cinderella found her prince. I feel as if I know what she is trying to insinuate with me but let's get one thing straight.

I'm no prince charming.

I won't come on a white stallion with a rose between my teeth or rescue Grace from some fire breathing dragon (even though that would kick ass). I'm just Zane, the boy from Chicago who had to run away from his father in order to not be sent to a conversion camp in the south just because I am 'just a dumb little girl who wants to dress up like a boy' (props go to my asshole of a father for that quote).

"I mean...I guess." I finally answer, setting the pen down in my lap,"Life is never complete and maybe someone else or something can make it feel whole."

By someone, I quickly think of Grace. I trust and love this girl, maybe so much to have her coming to my doctor appointments or to the pharmacy to pick up more testosterone injections. Hell, what if she is the one rubbing scar cream on my top surgery scars? What if she is the one?

And why does that scare the fuck out of me?

"I know what you mean." Grace nods, her hand inching towards mine and eventually grasping it,"Maybe you are that thing to me..."

"And maybe you are that to me as well." I agree as she rests her head down on my shoulder.

For at least ten minutes, we sit beside each other and don't say a word. The nicotine in the e-juice is somehow making me buzzed and I can tell that Grace is undergoing nearly identical affects.

"Zaney." she says, repeatedly kissing my cheek,"Zaney boo bear. I want something to eat. Can we get something? Please."

I'm laughing as I tuck the vape pen into my front pocket and lean forward to kiss her,"It depends, what do I get in return?"

"I can kiss you." she suggests, sitting up with her hands to my cheeks.

Before I can agree, she does so for me and I feel our hearts and lips become one underneath the pier.