The Silver Fighter | ✓

Possibly Committing Murder

Suddenly, after our little team bonding moment (UwU), Gray and Ben shot straight up and offered to go get some ice cream, which would leave John and me alone.

Oh, joy.

'I wonder what this ploy could be.'

"Uh...Ben and I are going to go get that ice cream you and John were talking about. You know, since you weren't able to get any since you were...you know, jumped." Grayson blurted, quite awkwardly, I might add. He looked to Ben. "Isn't that right, Ben?" Ben nodded hastily in agreement.

"Y-yes we are, Gray. W-we will go get the ice cream while you two stay here. Got it?" I raised an eyebrow at Ben's stuttering, and leaned closer to John.

"Should I be concerned?" I whispered to him. He thought about it for a moment, then shook his head.

"I don't think so." He responded, not sounding too sure, but I paid it no attention. I was too focused on the absolute dinguses in front of me.

'Idiots.'

"W-we'll be right back. Stay here." Ben ordered as he was pushed out of the door by Gray. Before they left, I heard him hiss, "What are we getting again?"

"I don't know. Just keep walking." Gray hissed back and that was all I heard before the door was closed and John and I were alone.

Awesome.

I let out a half exasperated/half-amused breath at the idiots and John chuckled, as amused by the situation as I was.

"Why do I get the feeling that this was a setup?" John inquired, bemused. 

I shook my head and bit my cheek to stop the grin threatening to take over my face. "Maybe it was the whole shady 'whisper' situation. Maybe it was their entirely awkward escape plan." I shrugged. "Who knows?" I uttered rhetorically and he laughed.

"They're not slick, are they?" John questioned and I shook my head.

"Not at all." I replied, finally allowing a grin. "That's why they remind me of Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dumb at times." I informed and John's eyes sparkled in amusement.

"Do they now?" I nodded. "I'm sure it won't be that hard for me to guess who's who." He continued, grinning. I threw my head back and laughed.

"No. I'm sure it won't." I said mostly to myself as I wiped a tear from my eyes. 

Surprisingly, I was actually having fun talking with John. He's easy to talk to and the thought of any awkward silence never crosses my mind.

Until he brings up my mother.

Bollocks.

"Hey, Grace?" He begins as I stood up to go get a treat for Coop who had randomly jumped into my lap after my meltdown. I turned around and faced him.

"Yeah?" I asked. He regarded me cautiously, as if I were a ticking time bomb.

'This ought to be good.'

"What was your...mom like?" He inquired, noticeably choosing his words. I blinked rapidly at the sudden question.

"What do you mean?" I asked, confused since he was quite vague.

'Give me something to work with, dude.'

"What was she like? What did she look like? What kind of person was she?" He elaborated hesitantly. I exhaled sharply and walked to the kitchen. I got out the dog treats from the pantry and gave one to Coop.

 A thought occurred to me and I let out a sigh and walked toward him. I held out a hand to him for him to take.

"Come with me." I muttered softly. He regarded my hand suspiciously and raised an eyebrow.

"Is this the part where you kill me and bury me in your backyard?" He asked and I bowed my head as I chuckled.

"Possibly." I replied cheekily and shook my head. "Just follow me, Wilson, and then we'll talk." I continued and he gave me an unconvinced look. I rolled my eyes.

'This guy.'

"Look, if I wanted to kill you, I would have either killed you and your cousins that night of the fight when you met me in the parking lot, or I would have let Bertinelli's flying monkeys finish you off." I declared and then shrugged. "Either way, if I wanted you dead, you'd be dead by now." 

John sighed deeply and muttered, "Can't fault your logic." I chuckled again and gestured to my outstretched hand.

"So pretty boy, you going to come with me or am I going to have to go alone?" I inquired again, my eyebrow still raised. He thought about it for a moment before heaving a heavy sigh and grabbing my hand. 

After standing up, he raised an eyebrow.

"Pretty boy? Really?" 

I shrugged nonchalantly, a smile tugging on my lips. "Give me a week. I'll find something better." I informed him matter-of-factly and cut him off from speaking by dragging him out of the backyard. 

I led the way out of the fenced-in backyard, through this little metal gate in the very back, and to a forest with a little path that had lights strung in the trees.

I make weekly visits through here and I wanted to make it special so I put up warm fairy lights. At that time, it was dusk and the sun was beginning to set, so the sky was turning a beautiful pink. The scene always looks magical and ethereal.

"Yeah, this place is too beautiful of a place for you to murder me here." John spoke aloud and I rolled my eyes as I tugged on his hand and led him to the right.

"Oh please, Wilson. When I murder you, I won't care where I kill you. Just as long as I don't have to deal with your annoying arse." I muttered as I walked behind the fences of my neighbors. They actually know about this path, but they've told me numerous times that they don't care about it so I get it all to myself.

Hehehe.

I know that laugh sounds maniacal, but it's not. I swear.

...

I may be lying, but no matter. 

Anyway, I led John down the path, past all the houses and the Flueris River that is actually said to be haunted, but that's a story for another day.

"So, where are we going exactly?" John asked behind me. "You still haven't told me." I was still leading him by the hand while ignoring the warmth my stomach was feeling by that action. The warmth only got worse when he rubbed his thumb on my palm.

'WhAt Is hE dOiNG?'  My brain began to kind of short circuit. I don't think I have ever held anyone's hand beside my mom's and dad's. I wasn't used to affection from a human being that isn't my family. Bloody hell, I haven't felt affection since my mom.

'Freaking out is not an option. So don't. FREAK. OUT.'

"You'll see when we get there." I replied to John's question and didn't turn around. I kept walking straight, took a left turn, and then weaved in and out of trees. We passed by the tree that I had carved my name in.

My real name.

"Wha-" John began, but I gently tugged on his hand to keep him moving.

"Don't start complaining, Wilson. We're nearly there." I replied without looking back. He grumbled, but complied. 

After about three more minutes, we arrived.

"Grace. We're at the..." John trailed off as he saw our destination.

"Cemetery." I finished with a sigh.