Violeta pushed the door shut behind her, locking it before sliding down to the ground, breathing heavily. Relax, she told herself harshly, squeezing her eyes shut. You cannot throw up at your student's house. Can you imagine how appalled Ms. Reeves would be? If you want your job and your reputation, keep it together and calm down.
It was easier said than done.
Gray didn’t know what to do. Clearly she was feeling unwell, but was it her sickness, or was it something else?
He leaned against the wall, staying there unless she needed someone.
The thought of food…. the thought of the pasta, and its delicious aroma…. the memory of its taste, blooming on her tongue….
Suddenly, it was too much. Bile rose to her throat, and this time, she couldn't swallow it quickly enough. It was all she could do to lean over the toilet in time… before she had emptied the meagre contents of her stomach neatly into the bowl.
Gray winced as he heard her throw up, wanting nothing more than to be there, comforting her. It was a silly thing to wish for, but it was still there.
He squeezed his eyes shut.
You’re going to be okay, Vy. I promise. I’m sorry.
As soon as she was done, her eyes widened in horror. I just threw up. In the house of the little girl I teach. Oh my god— How was she going to explain this to Ms. Reeves? There was no mess once she flushed the toilet, but a faint smell lingered in the air, and the deed was done.
Scrambling to her feet, Violeta hurriedly looked around. Don't they have Febreze? Or air freshener? She wasn't going to cover up what she'd done, of course she would confess, but she had to fix her mistake. Finally locating a bottle, she began to spritz the sweet-smelling liquid into the air, her movements choppy and panicked.
Gray pushed himself off of the wall, gritting his teeth. He wanted to hold her, tell her it was okay. It happens, but he couldn’t.
So he walked back into the kitchen and poured the green tea into a cup.
Finally, Violeta opened the window a smidge, letting cool air waft into the room. This is your fault, she told herself, unlocking the door, Now face the consequences,
With her head low, she made her way back to the family.
Gray had just poured the tea into a cup when Violeta emerged from the bathroom.
“Violeta,” he called her over softly, walking towards her and held out the tea. “Here. Drink this. It’ll make you feel better.”
I hope.
Violeta blinked up at him, confusion clouding her gaze. After a brief moment, she accepted the teacup and turned to Amanda, struggling to form the right words. How was she supposed to explain this?
“I—I’m sorry, I—“
“It’s okay,” Amanda assured the girl gently. “Don’t worry about it. It’s completely okay.”
“Are you feeling better, V?” Aria tugged on the girl’s sleeve. “I’m sorry… you came because of me, even when you were sick…”
Violeta pushed her free hand through her hair, evidently distressed. “I’m really sorry, it won’t happen again—There isn’t a mess, I promise. I sprayed some Febreze and opened a window—And Ari, it’s not your fault, please don’t worry.”
“Violeta,” Amanda’s eyebrows furrowed sternly. “We don’t care about that. What matters is whether you’re okay or not. Sit down, rest up. Drink your tea—you’ll feel better.”
Violeta’s anxious motions slowed to a stop. Gradually, her shoulders sank in relief; Amanda wasn’t upset. She wasn’t going to be fired, she wasn’t going to be mocked. The poor girl nodded her head meekly and reseated herself, uttering a quiet ‘thank-you’.
All the while, Gray’s eyes never strayed away from Violeta. Not when Aria joined her on the couch and definitely not when she began to sip the tea. His jaw clenched—he knew she wasn’t sick. At least, not like that. That pale face, the way she barely ate anything… he couldn’t help but link it to himself. She always got uncomfortable around him. It would make sense.
“Do you need more honey?” Amanda questioned, seating herself and slowly running her fingers through Violeta’s hair. Touching something Gray wanted to for a long time. He immediately turned his head away.
Violeta caught herself before she could lean into the touch. Just because Amanda was breaking down the warm but cautiously polite boundaries they’d kept in the past, didn’t mean she got to do the same. Especially after what she’d done.
“No, thank you,” she answered quietly, guilt and shame seeping into her voice. I shouldn’t be doing this… Every few seconds, her eyes zipped to Grayson’s. What would he do, now that he’d seen her so weak? Her hands tightened around the teacup.
When Gray felt eyes on him, he immediately banished the longing from his face as if it wasn’t there. He fixed his gaze on his foster mother, who looked rather worriedly at the girl. He knew she liked her. Too much, it seemed. Perhaps it was because Gray liked her, or because she was a sister to Aria, Gray didn’t know. What he did know was that Amanda liked Violeta. It made him happy.
“I’ll walk you home,” Gray said quietly, speaking up before his mother or sister could. He silently dared her to refuse. Even if she did, Amanda would insist. “After you’re done with the tea.”
Violeta’s eyes widened in alarm. No, no, no. Internally, she began to panic. What would he do to her in retaliation for her unforgivable act? What would he say? Would he try to hurt her?
“I—Thank you, but it’s fine,” she answered hurriedly, despite the looming threat of darkness beyond the house’s walls. For a woman especially, walking alone at night was never a good idea. To add to it all, her pepper spray was still in her dorm room…
“No, let him,” Amanda insisted. “I wouldn’t want anything happening to you. It’s late.”
“I’ll walk you home,” Gray repeated, hands in his pockets. “So don’t wory about anything.”
Violeta could only nod, helpless as she awaited the horror show that was to come. She half-contemplated lying, saying that her roommate had a car and could pick her up, but she knew that Amanda would quickly realize the untruth once a car didn’t pull up in her driveway. There was nothing to do but sit there and finish her tea, no matter how terrified she was.
Finally, she was done.
“Come visit again,” Amanda said to her as Aria ran to put the empty cup in the sink. Amanda wrapped her arms around the girl, hugging her briefly before pulling back. “It was a pleasure having you here. Gray hasn’t behaved weirdly, so that was a plus, too.”
“Oh, come on,” Gray groaned, shooting his foster mother a dramatic look, walking behind her when she pulled away from Violeta, and wrapped his own arms around her neck. “Are you seriously being like this, Amanda? Sometimes I think you love teasing me more than you love me.”
Amanda laughed, slapping her son on the arm.
“That’s true,” she teased him. “Go on, then. Walk her home.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Gray peeled himself off of her before turning towards Violeta. “Come on.”
Violeta kept her eyes trained on the ground as Grayson exchanged a few words with his mother. She uttered a few more apologies and thank-yous, but was soon out the door…. with Gray close behind. The moment Amanda’s comforting presence had disappeared, she felt her muscles lock up in fear.
“Aria thinks of you like an older sister,” Gray spoke up, walking beside her slowly, keeping his eyes in front of him, hands in his pockets. “It’s just us two, but she always wanted a big sister. You can’t exactly talk to your brother the way you would to a sister.”
Violeta inhaled shakily, struggling to keep the last of her composure. “What—What do you want from me, Gray?” she asked after a lengthy pause, wary, confused, and anxious about what was to come.
Gray shot her a raised eyebrow, though his heart skipped a beat when she spoke his name. Even if it was coated with fear.
“Nothing,” he answered honestly. “I don’t want anything from you.”
Grayson, she reminded herself sternly, Not Gray.
“Then why are you doing this?” Violeta asked quietly. Why are you going this far to pretend you care?