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“We should get back to the club,” he whispers, pulling me up onto his lips. “Thank you for this, I didn’t know it, but I needed it.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed your gift,” I tell him, watching his face crease up in confusion.
“You said the other day that you had no happy memories from when you were a kid. So I gave you mine. The only one I got,” I explain. “My mom took me to the park a few months before she left. We watched the clouds together and got hotdogs. We fell asleep in the sun and felt the grass between our toes. Everyone deserves one happy memory, Grimm.” I smile at him and feel one of those damn tears creeping up on me again.
“That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever done for me,” he whispers, the sincerity in his expression so intense it breaks my heart.
But I shrug like it’s no big deal.
“Thank you for my gift. I’ll treasure it forever.” He slowly moves his lips back onto mine and kisses me so softly that I feel my whole body tingle. I have to break the moment before I do something stupid and tell him I’m falling in love with him.
“Come on, you better get me back to the club so you can show me how grateful you are.” I hop up onto my feet and pull him up.
“I’m driving back.” I snatch up his keys from the grass beside him and race off toward his bike.
Of course, Grimm caught up with me, and of course, I don’t get to drive home, but none of that matters when I’m resting my cheek against his back with my arms clung around his waist as he rides us back to the compound.
It’s getting dark when we arrive at his cabin, and I can tell Grimm’s deep in thought when we’re sitting at the table eating the mushroom risotto he cooked for us.
I don’t ask him what he's thinking about. I don’t want to ruin our day by prying. But when he grabs a hoodie and heads for the door a few hours later, I feel my heart sink.
“I’ll be back real soon,” he promises before rushing out, and I’m far too stubborn to give in and ask him where he’s going.
I wait around for over an hour, flicking through the TV stations and watching stupid videos on my phone. I get bored of staring at my screen so I roll myself a spliff and take it out on the deck, hoping it will chill me out.
“Miss me?” When I spin my head around, Grimm’s standing in the doorway, holding a lantern in his hands. I’m sure it’s one of the ones that Maddy puts a candle in to make her porch look pretty at night. I can see the tiny flickers of light inside it now.
“I had to get you something. It’s not as good as what you got me, but here.” He places the lantern on the table in front of me and I lean closer to get a better look.
“Fireflies.” I look up at him from the lantern where the bright flickers are dancing against the glass.
“I used to sneak out at night and catch them when I was younger. I always wanted to bring them back and show my mama, but couldn’t risk getting in trouble. They’d have made her smile. She liked pretty things.” He looks back at me a little awkwardly, like he suddenly feels stupid. “Now I wanna make you smile.”
I leap off my chair and fling my arms around his neck.
“I love them.” I squeeze him so tight, hoping that he feels how much. And the words are all there, right on the tip of my tongue. I want to tell him that I love him. But I’m too scared of it to say it out loud.
So I remain silent, and we sit together sharing a joint and watching the fireflies dance.
“I should stop marking you.” The thoughts in my head come out loud as we lie in bed and my finger circles the purple bruises I made on her thigh last night.
“I like them,” she tells me, looking up at me with her big blue eyes and making me want to give her more of them.
“Grimm,” she stops me, her dainty hand pulling at my wrist.
“Do you ever think about making more marks on me?”
I close my eyes and take a deep breath. If I could scrape the thoughts out of my head I would.
“Yes,” I admit, because I have to be honest with her, even if I hate myself for it.
“I want to try it.”
“No.” I shake my head firmly, I’m not fucking playing games, especially when I can’t guarantee the consequences of them. I’ll never test myself with Rogue that way.
“Hear me out.” She shifts her body up mine and holds my eyes with hers. “When I was younger, I used to hurt inside so much that sometimes I had to release it…” I want to ask her what hurt her so I can do something about it, but I don’t want to interrupt whatever she’s opening up to me about. So I swallow down the pain I feel, tuck her hair behind her ear, and listen.
“I’d sit for hours and think about how to make it stop. Then one day I found a way.” Her head drops like she’s ashamed, and I force her chin back up with my finger.
