Kingston awoke long after Grayson had left for school, partially because he had left the curtains closed as an act of courtesy and Kingston heavily relied on the sun to wake him up. He could sleep all day if not for it, lost in dreams that weren't broken and only cracked around the edges. He took his blanket with him downstairs, relishing in the warmth as he sorted through the cupboards for something to eat.
"Fuck," he mumbled when he spilled Cinnamon Squares all over the countertop, scooping them into his hand but only succeeding in spreading stray sugar around. He gave up and dumped the stray pieces in the bowl, knowing that Grayson was clean to an obsessive point and he'd have to wash it up before he got home.
He went outside to eat. It was a rare sunny day and it reminded him of good things in the world, like laying in the grass and soaking up the warmth until it disappeared. As a boy, he had freckles on his cheeks, but they had long since disappeared, just as his childhood self had.
A figment of a once happy memory was all that that boy was now.
~
Around eleven, he finished breakfast and traipsed back inside to clean up his mess. He wet a rag and ran it over the counter a few times until he was satisfied, then reached for another towel to dry it. In doing so, he upended a folded piece of paper that immediately went flying. He caught it between his fingertips, pulling it open and scowling.
It was his sketch of Grayson, burnt but still intact.
~
At three, Kingston resolved to call his mother as Grayson walked into the house, eyes dark.
"That bitch is a nuisance. I'm going to kill her."
"Who?"
"None of your concern."
"Ah, one of your little schoolmates then."
"Hardly. She likes to make fun of her."
"Chryssie? You've still got your primary crush, I see."
"It's not something so juvenile as a crush." He spat it out like it was a dirty word. "I'm going to marry her, and I'll make sure that no one will ever hurt her again."
His tone made Kingston a bit uneasy, but then again, Grayson had always been that way. He hardly expected it to change when it came to romantic interests.
"Do I at least get an invite?"
Grayson, though obviously irked by his teasing, ignored this, changing his attitude like he was flipping a switch.
"Did you feed the cat?"
"You don't have a cat."
"No, I don't have a cat, but it's a stray and it comes around here for meals. I left the note on the fridge."
He jabbed his finger at a jarringly pink sticky note that Kingston had obviously missed. His eyes were all cross again.
"Sorry," Kingston mumbled. Grayson muttered something under his breath and began pulling all sorts of shit out of the fridge, slamming them down on the counter. He continued his muttering while smashing things up in a bowl with a fork. Most of it was unintelligible, but he was sure he caught 'lucky it's not winter' and 'starved to death'. Personally, Kingston doubted that the cat would starve because it missed a meal, but he wouldn't be sharing that opinion with Grayson anytime soon
(Even though he didn't know, he felt a bit shitty about it anyway.)
~
