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Gray’s POV:
“Thomas?” I raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, Dar~ you can’t make that face and then not tell us!”
Gray’s POV:
“Thomas?” I raised an eyebrow. “C’mon, Dar~ you can’t make that face and then not tell us!”
“I just met you!” she protested, peeking out from between her fingers. I shook my head teasingly, making tsk tsk noises. “Hey, I showed you my art! Now you know how it feels.”
“Fine…” she mumbled, embarrassed. “Someone asked me out. Lunch date.”
My happiness mirrored her own—I knew how self-conscious she could he about her wheelchair. The fact that someone had asked her out despite that would be a huge confidence boost for her, and one that she definitely needed.
Gray’s POV:
I could see how happy both the girls were at that, and I put two and two together and realized it was because of her not being able to walk on her own feet. I felt happy for her.
“That’s great,” I grinned at her. “What’s his name? What type of a person is he?”
Daria, her hands now rested on the arms of her wheelchair, bit down on her bottom lip. “Lance. He, um, likes poetry.”
I leaned closer to Gray, my grin turning into a smirk. “Send me a picture of him!”
“No!”
“Yes!”
Gray’s POV:
I watched both of them bicker with a laugh, shaking my head. I’d seen a new side of Violeta today, and I was extremely pleased.
“You should send your sister a picture,” I agreed with Violeta. “We both know how stubborn she is. She won’t stop until she’s got her hands on it.”
I could see that my sister was agoutbto make a dirty joke, and quickly moved to cut her off before she could embarrass me even more than she already had. “Exactly. Come onnnnn…”
Finally, Daria let out a flustered huff. “Fine. I’ll do it.”
A few seconds later, my phone buzzed with the message, and I exited the video chat app for a brief second to look at the picture. The photograph she’d sent me depicted a teenage guy with fluffy, chocolate-brown hair, medium-dark skin, dimples, and a sheepish smile.
Gray’s POV:
I looked over at Violeta’s shoulder, grinning.
“Oh, he looks nice,” I commented. “Nice catch, Dar. Always remember to be careful, though.”
Daria made a show of rolling her eyes. “As if I haven’t heard that lecture fifty times from mom.”
At the mention of our mother, something shifted in my expression. “Speaking of, how is she?” I asked, carefully sidestepping the horrible idea to ask about our dad.
Daria shrugged. “Same as always, I guess.”
Gray’s POV:
I noticed a drastic change in their atmosphere, and suddenly wondered if I should intrude in that conversation.
“Do you want me to step outside for a moment?” I asked close to her ear, pressing my lips against her skin lightly.
“It’s fine,” we both said in perfect unison, pulling the smiles back onto our faces. I gave Gray a look that said ‘I’ll explain later’.
Gray’s POV:
I nodded at them.
“If you both say so,” I shrugged.
(What should they do?)
(I… have absolutely no idea. 🤷♀️)
Rip….. idk, should V talk a bit about her family to Gray?)
(If she wants to, I think she could. Would she feel upset if Gray didn’t mention his upbringing?)
(Probably not
Could you start? Maybe they’re talking and Gray asks? Sorry)
(All right, I’ll start! :D)
Gray’s POV:
After the video call with Daria ended, Violeta and I fell in silence. We were back in each other’s arms, but instead of her being in my lap, we were lying on the bed with her head on my chest and my arm under her, holding her close.
Finally, I couldn’t help myself.
“Vy…” I began softly. “Do you not… get along with your mother?”
I know not all mothers are the same, but it always bummed me out knowing there were people with parents, but either the kids never treated them right, or the parents wouldn’t.
I closed my eyes and shifted closer to his warmth, shaking my head. “No, we’re fine. She just… hasn’t been herself for.. a long time. Since, ah, my dad and her divorced. I’m just worried about her, and how well she’s taking care of Daria. Since she’s always tired and quiet, she isn’t the most… supportive mother for a kid in a wheelchair.”
Gray’s POV:
I pulled her closer to me when she shifted, trying to make sure she was comfortable in my hold.
“Ah… I see,” I nodded. “You do have a reason to be worried. How long as Daria been in the wheelchair?”
“Since she was seven,” I answered, using the steady beating of his heart to anchor myself in the moment. “Car crash.”
Gray’s POV:
Being stuck in a wheelchair since seven… I gently caressed her face, kissing her on the forehead.
“With you as her support, I’m sure it was easy for her to roll through life,” I said gently. “And she’ll continue to do so. Her disability isn’t something that she needs to be ashamed of, and I’m sure she knows that.”
A sudden rush of gratitude overpowered me, rendering me incapable of speech for a few seconds. “Thank you, Gray… I love you. And I’m sorry about Daria’s uncalled for comment.”
Gray’s POV:
I lifted her face up to kiss her gently.
“I love you, too, Vy,” I murmured. “And it’s okay. I deserved that. I was an asshole to you and I didn’t even bother trying to figure out why you hated me.”
“But you weren’t an asshole,” I protested, propping myself up on my elbow, “It was miscommunication. And I don’t want you to blame yourself, now.”
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