His Paper Heart ✓

•38|Her Piano Days (Genevieve)

I leave Casey out in the bitter cold and walk into the mansion. Gray stands by the old, dusty chimney, which I suppose hasn't been used in years. He has his one hand which isn't in a sling, healing from the gunshot wound in his pocket, watching me as I slowly approach him. He has a crease between his brow, an unfriendly vein throbbing at the side of his neck, telling me there's a lot to dislike about Casey. Regardless, he chooses to help them, pay all their debt and help restore Old Man Joe's sanity after everything the man has been through.

"Hey," I start.

"Is he bothering you?" he enquires, frowning the more.

I shake my head and smile. "He got me so pissed and I ended up saying the “f” word to him," I explain.

"You said the word fuck?" Gray asks. A smile spreads across my lips as I nod frantically. Gray can barely hold back his chuckles when he squints at me. He wants to say something else but he would rather not tease me in this moment, considering I was just defending him against Casey. He puts his arm around my neck and pulls me to him to kiss my cheek. "You're lovely," he whispers.

"You too," I say.

He hugs me for a minute, making me forget the unforgiving cold in the hall of this old mansion. My mother says the old mansion was just a glorified shed even in it's hay day. The windows have large holes in them for the wind to rush in and the roof looks like a giant sat on it, for it sags terribly. I find it hard imagining what is keeping Old Man Joe in this house. Taking a step in this old house feels like stepping on a fragile bomb, like the creaking wood boards will crumble under your feet any second.

"Casey is a jackass," Gray states and snaps me back to the present. I look up at him with a half smile and he politely returns the gesture before he presses his lips on mine in a gentle kiss.

"That's my nephew you're talking about."

Gray turns around in search of where the feeble voice came from. Old Man Joe stands there akimbo, his hair gunmetal grey, long and lush. The man that has been deemed scary most of his life looks like one of those people that would just willingly hand you a flower for no reason, but Joe has certainly aged more over the years than he's supposed to be. 

His lips spread into a wide smile, showing his pearly whites as he looks at Gray.

"Joe." Gray chuckles and rushes over to him to hug him.

"What happened to you?" the man asks as they break apart.

"I got shot," Gray answers.

"Shot." Joe blinks in disbelief. "In this very town?"

"Yes." Gray nods. "But that doesn't mean—"

"This town isn't safe. This town has never been safe. I don't know why people won't learn from me and just leave this town. I was kidnapped right out of my home. I was snatched from my mother, I watched as he killed my father," he takes a long, painful pause.

Gray exhales and looks back at me, clearly spotting the confusion and grief drawn on my face. He nods slowly at me, telling me it's fine. Old Man Joe is just taken by surprise by the sudden act of violence in our town. We all are.

"Yet these townsfolk refuse to learn, they refuse to leave because—"

"It's our home," I blurt out softly. Joe now notices my presence properly. He stares at me and I stare back. "We have our lives built here, it's not fair, it's not brave that we run instead of finding a solution to the problem." I shrug my shoulders.

Gray groans lowly with a decline of his head. Old Man Joe just stares at me, his brown eyes a mixture of fear and pain. It's a shame what he went through, how it makes him think of just flight but never fight. It's horrible that I understand where he is coming from. Processing what happened to Gray over two weeks ago is still a blur. Every once in a while, I hear the deafening gunshot in my head and I see vivid images of him lying in our street, blood everywhere. It takes me a minute to believe truly that things can change, that we can all fix our broken minds.