Violeta drew her knees up to her chest and buried her tear-streaked face in them, struggling to calm herself down.
Years of sprinting home after dark, watching each shadow, each dark corner… and her bad luck had finally caught up with her. She should have expected this, but for some reason, it was infinitely painful. It was as if the man’s roaming hands had branded her skin, leaving burning trails behind. Violeta couldn’t bear to imagine the possibilities if Gray hadn’t found her…
Gray finally returned with a steaming cup of hot chocolate, desperately praying it would help her feel better.
“Vy,” he said softly, kneeling before her, his voice breathing. Amanda said nothing. She just watched the exchange. “Hot chocolate. Please.”
“Vy.”
The unfamiliar nickname broke through the endless cycle of apologies, causing Violeta to raise her head from its current position. When she saw Gray, kneeling in front of her with a steaming mug in hand in the sweetest, most concerned expression on his face… she just about crumbled.
She accepted the hot chocolate——how could she not?——but her eyes remained on the mystery of a boy in front of her, the saviour of the night. She found a million ways to thank him without speaking at all, temporarily tearing down the walls that constantly kept them apart. This was genuine—it had to be. How could he fake all of this? Why would he fake all of this? Maybe he hated her every second of the day, but st least he had the immense decency to carry her to safety when she was broken and scared out of her mind.
Gray wanted to wrap her in his arms and make sure she never had to face anything like this ever again. When she looked up at him, her expression broke something inside of him. Violeta. His Vy. He would never let anyone touch her like that again. She accepted the hot chocolate and Gray moved out of the way as Amanda pulled the girl towards her, holding her protectively.
Violeta cradled the warm mug in her hands, taking tiny, slow sips of the sweet liquid every few seconds. But she kept her eyes on Gray’s for a few more seconds, silently willing him to stay.
After a few seconds, she turned to Amanda. “I-I want to thank you, Ms. Reeves,” she whispered shakily. “Please, don’t—don’t pay me at all this month for Aria’s lessons. Or the next month. Or as long as you’d like.”
“No,” Amanda shook her head. “That isn’t up for any debate. Drink up and feel better.”
Gray’s fists clenched again, but he knelt by her again when she looked at him. She wanted him to stay. Why was she thinking it was her fault? It wasn’t.
“But—“ Violeta faltered. “Ms. Reeves, I have to repay you in some way—I can’t just—“
Her desperation rose. She had caused so much trouble for this family, first by throwing up, and now with this.
“It’s my fault,”’Gray interrupted, hesitantly reaching out for her hand. “I shouldn’t have let you go off on your own. I should have walked you home. I’m sorry, Vy, for not getting there sooner. I’m sorry that you had to go through that.”
Violeta stiffened imperceptibly at the nickname, from surprise rather than anything else. She didn’t notice his outstretched hand, though, too caught up in her endless cycle of guilt and shame. “It’s not your fault,” she told him quietly, “I shouldn’t— I shouldn’t have agreed to meet you that late.”
Gray flinched, looking at his foster mother. She ran her fingers through Violeta’s hair gently, looking back at him, raising an eyebrow.
“It’s not your fault,” he repeated. “I should have known better. Don’t ever blame yourself for something that isn’t your fault.”
But it is my fault, she wanted to protest. But she stayed silent for the next few minutes, sipping at her cocoa. “Thank you for the hot chocolate…”
“Do you want me to stay with you?” Gray questioned softly. “I will if you want me to. If not, you can stay with Amanda.”
Confusion clouded her eyes. “Wait—shouldn’t I—shouldn’t I got back to me dorm?” Violeta asked hesitantly, pulling her legs closer to her chest.
"You don't have to if you don't want to," Gray answered, casting his eyes on the couch rather than at the girl. "But if you want to go back, I'll drop you off."
Violeta hesitated. She couldn’t stay——she had intruded on this family enough already. And besides, she had her own dorm to return to. So, averting her eyes, she shook her head. “I—I think I should go home.”
He wanted her to stay, he realized. But if she didn’t feel comfortable, he wasn’t going to pressurize her into staying.
“Okay,” Gray nodded in understanding. “It’s okay. Come on, I’ll get you home.”
Violeta swallowed the last of her hot cocoa, finding a strange sort of solace in the familiar taste, and nodded. “Shouldn’t I wash this mug first?”
“No,” Gray shook his head, taking the mug and putting it away. “You don’t have to do that.”
Violeta rubbed at her eyes, moving to get up from her comfortable position on the couch. "Thank you for letting me stay.." she told Amanda quietly, meaning every word.
Amanda hugged the girl again gently.
“You’re welcome any time, any day,” the woman said. “Don’t blame yourself for something that was out of your hands.”
Violeta released a slow breath, giving the older woman a small nod before pulling away from the comforting embrace. "Have a good night, Ms. Reeves."
When they left, Gray made sure to stick close to Violeta. He kept a close eye on her, hand itching to take hers. The scene kept replaying in his mind; Violeta pressed against the wall, the man’s mouth on hers, his hand reaching down—he cut that thought off. He couldn’t dwell on it more. He had already called the police. Wishing to burn that drunkard wouldn’t do him any good. Or Violeta.
Violeta had her hands pushed into her pockets, her French braid unravelling as they walked. Her eyes darted from shadow to shadow, clouded with paranoia, but she was safe. Gray was walking her home, and she was safe.
"I want to say something to you," she whispered finally, "But I don't know what to say."
“It’s okay,” Gray whispered back, not being able to look at her. “I… I’m sorry, Violeta. I shouldn’t have let you go home alone like that. I should have persisted. I should have known better.”
She gave him a sad smile. "It's not your fault I'm stubborn, Gray. Honestly, it's fine. It's not your fault."
Gray paused, looked at Violeta and before he could stop himself, he wrapped his arms around her, hugging her tightly.
“I’m still sorry,” he breathed, his voice cracking. “For even suggesting that time. I should have scheduled it for another day.”
At first, Violeta froze, her eyes going wide. Gray was…. hugging her? Embracing her? And his voice—why was it breaking when he spoke to her? But eventually, she relaxed in his hold, despite what her instincts were screaming at her. This was Gray, for god's sake. Gray. The boy who had hated her for the past four years. He was no better than any of the others who had ever pushed her down into the dirt. So… why was he acting like this?
"Stop," she told him, surprised by the softness of her own voice. "It wasn't your fault. That point isn't up for discussion. It's fine, I promise."
“It isn’t your fault, either,” he said in a much clearer voice, his heart hammering wildly when he felt her relax. “Whatever happened… it wasn’t your fault. So when you’re in your room, don’t even dare think about it.”
Violeta bit her lip, offering only her silence as an answer.
Why are you doing this? she wanted to ask, Why do you care so much all of a sudden? You aren't pretending again…. are you?
But she was too afraid of his answer….
Gray finally pulled away, muttering another apology before he tugged her along. Had he spared her a glance, he knew he would have ended up wanting her that moment. He couldn’t have that want.
“Almost there,” he told her quietly.
