Silver

Chapter 47

I didn't sleep well that night. When I was asleep, my mind kept replaying Li's death over and over until I'd wake up. When I did wake up, it was in a cold sweat and there were tears staining my cheeks. I could still see Li's eyes the moment before Grey snapped his neck. They were full of fear. Full of confusion. And it'd been my fault.

So, when the clock finally hit 7 am, I rolled out of bed, thoroughly exhausted but giving up on any chance of decent rest. I tugged the hemline of Grey's T-shirt down, hoping that it would somehow stretch and cover more of me.

I don't know why Grey seeing me like this made me uncomfortable. It's not like it's anything he hadn't seen before, but I felt like I couldn't trust him anymore.

I pulled the bedroom doors open, surprised to see Grey was already awake and sitting upright on the sofa. He held a mug of coffee in his hand, his eyes slowly rising up my body- much like the blush to my cheeks.

"Morning," he murmured lowly, his irises blazing a blue fire as they gazed into mine.

Fuck. I felt the heat burning in my cheeks and broke his gaze, looking down at my feet awkwardly. How is it that he can do that to me by merely looking at me? I felt like a prepubescent child who had just experienced the glory of hormones for the first time.

"Morning," I replied coolly, lumbering over to the kitchen space and pouring my own coffee.

I was a little discouraged to discover there wasn't any creamer, but I didn't mind black coffee, so it was fine. I wrapped my hands around the mug tightly, cradling the heat as if it would somehow warm my heart. Wishful thinking, I suppose.

I walked over and sat down on the opposite edge of the couch from Grey, resting my mug down on the coffee table.

"Sleep okay?" Grey asked, taking a sip.

"Fine," I replied curtly, unwilling to engage in any sort of conversation.

I'd expressed too much of my emotions last night, and it made me uncomfortable talking to him now. At one point, I'd felt extremely comfortable talking to him about anything. Now, it felt like talking to a stranger. I know I'd said what I needed to last night, but that didn't make me feel any better about it. I'd cried in front of him, shown him that he had completely broken me and that no amount of time could heal me. I'd admitted my weaknesses to him. For that, I was embarrassed.

"You don't have to lie to me, you know. I know you, Greene," he replied gently.

"I slept fine, Grey. Just leave it," I snapped back, taking a drink of my coffee.

"I felt it. All night long. Just so you know. Your grief. Regret. Anguish. Guilt. You don't get to do that to yourself. Not when it was me who did it," he clenched his jaw a little, eyeing me.

"And you did it because of me, so yes, Grey, I get to blame myself," I retorted icily.

"Always the martyr," Grey grumbled under his breath.

"When is Michael going to get here?" I asked, changing the subject before I lunged at Grey's throat.

"Any minute now. He had said he'd be here around dawn," he explained, taking another drink.

I glanced out the set of windows to my right. He had a great view overlooking the Seine. You could see the tiny people below, shuffling quickly by the building on their way to work. The sky was a pastel pink, growing closer and closer to orange with each passing moment.

"Pretty sunrise," Grey hummed.

"We don't have to do that, you know. Small talk," I said coldly.