(Greyson Dubois)
She stopped midway. Her eyes going to the bruise.
That red-purple swollen patch of flesh my father gave me. Then her eyes darted to my split lip.
I saw her anger waver, replaced by something else. Concern, maybe. Probably pity.
I wondered briefly what was going through her mind. Oh, poor Greyson Dubois, slapped around by his father. A piss-poor substitute for his brother.
Damn it! I shouldn't have come.
Why did I come?!
"Why are you here?"
It was pure Tilly Ann. Blunt. Perfect. Beautiful.
"I didn't finish my story about the gullet and the two brothers who's lives was changed forever. Thought you might appreciate an ending"
"Go away, Chase" She murmured.
I turned around to leave, but she stepped out into the hallway, her fingers reaching up to my face.
"What happened?"
Her touch was soft… tender even. It almost made me flinch.
The hallway was empty, thank the gods. If anyone saw us like this—her hand on my face, me leaning into her like a starving man—the whispers would force my father to murder.
It was a good enough excuse. He would finally be rid of me.
I would be fucked. Good thing I don't care much.
So, I put on my best bad boy smile. The type that says nothing fazes me. Nothing gets to me. I'm a fucking impenetrable wall. The kind she was used to seeing.
"Oh, this?" I gestured to the bruise. "It's nothing. Had a disagreement with a wall." I stopped myself from leaning in. Stopped myself from seeking comfort.
"The wall won?" she asked, touching it again.
I nodded. Fearing I would tear up. "The wall always win. Stupid wall."
"Poor baby," she muttered, cupping my face gently. "Do you need anything? For the pain?"
I watched her.
What I needed was to not feel anything at all.
But looking down at her, with her worried eyes and her stupid, beautiful face, one thought popped into my head—and I hated myself for it.
Tilly Ann Winchester, I want you for myself. I have wanted you since I was ten years old and you had a thing for horrible yellow dresses and ugly bonnet.
But I was Greyson Dubois, I wasn't supposed to want her. So, I did the opposite.
I said the one thing I knew would push her away.
"What I need, little princess," I said, taking a seductive step forward, "right this second, is to fuck you."
She blinked. Like her mind was trying to catch up.
"Fuck me?" she asked.
"Yes." I stated it as a matter of fact.
"I want to pin you against this wall and kiss you. I want to more than kiss you. I want to…" My thought faded away momentarily as the words Make Love to you popped into my head.
Which was weird, because I don't do love making. I fuck.
She blinked again. "There are better words for saying that. Make love to me would have sounded better, Chase."
Her pleading eyes looked at me. She was looking for someone that wasn't me.
She was looking for my brother, the good one—like everyone else in my life.
The gentle, romantic brother that brings flowers to meet girls and spends months courting a girl properly before he would even attempt to kiss her. She was looking for Chase.
If one thing has been established in this world… very loudly, I might add, was that I, Greyson Dubois, was not my brother.
"What's wrong with saying fuck?" I asked her, clearly at the end of my rope.
"It's crude. And it's vulgar. I would rather make love than fuck, Chase Dubois." Her big green eyes stared me down, like she was trying to will me to submission.
Beautiful Tilly Ann. The most beautiful of them all.
"Well, too bad," I said finally. "I don't do love making. I fuck. There's a difference. And if it makes you feel any better, sweetheart, you don't do love either."
She took a challenging step forward.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Her eyes squinting just a little in anger.
"You want pretty words and flowers, Tilly Ann? Fine." I stepped closer, matching her challenge. "But proper girls don't do what we did. They don't get finger-fucked in storerooms and they don't scream on reading tables with their brother outside the door. And you—you did all of that. You liked it. I know you did. Right? You are like me"
Her eyes flashed. "You don't know anything about me."
I moved closer and grabbed both side of her cheek.
"It's the only thing I'm certain about. I know you, Tilly Ann"
She didn't back away. She didn't slap me. She took a small step closer, the scent of her drowning out the smell of my father's hatred.
"I know you. I really know you"
"Say that again," she whispered. "To my face."
She took another step even closer. Right in my face "I dare you to say it again."
A challenge. Everything I wanted.
I leaned in. My lips were a breath from hers. I could feel the heat of her. It would be so easy to just lean in and show her just how right I was.
She wasn't a flower-and-candlelight-dinner girl. She was an I-can't-wait-to-take-you-behind-the-secret-door type of girl.
My type of girl not Chase.
A lot of things stopped me from bridging that gap. The deal. The plan. The fact that I wasn't Chase. I was Greyson. And Greyson wasn't supposed to want her like this.
I pulled back as if it burned.
Turned around and started to walk away. Determined to put a world between us but she spoke.
"You didn't finish your story about the gullet and the two brothers"
I thought about it. I told the ending as bluntly as I could.
"The two brothers lives were changed forever, first by the gullet. Secondly, by
a girl."
" A girl—"
I nodded.
"She was special." I smiled to myself. "Beautiful. The younger boy saw her first, almost fell for her too. But the older boy with the help of an evil troll convinced the younger boy to give his girl to the older one"
"Did he?" She asked and I nodded.
"Yes. And because the older one was rendered impotent by the spike, it became the younger son's duty to father his brother's children against his wish. It made him a monster"
I turned around to leave. She spoke. "Poor babies. It's sad. Really"
I laughed, fighting back tears. "Not for the younger son. He gets to fuck a free pussy for the rest of his life"
She stepped clearer into the hallway. "It's sad especially for the younger boy. Because he gets to make children that he can't papa. He gets to bed a woman that he will never be allowed to love. So, l say he's more victim than the rest"
I turned around instantly. Hiding the tear that escaped.
"I have to go," I choked out before looking at her.
"Yeah, you should." she said.
I could see the hurt in her eyes. The truth was bitter. I owed it to her to tell her just a little bit of it.
"I'm not supposed to fuck you anymore, anyway."
"Go to hell" She slammed the door.
I nodded slowly and placed both hands in my pockets. And watched her door a few seconds "I'm already there, sweetheart."
I turned and walked away.
"Goodbye, Winchester."
I made it to the stairwell before my legs gave out.
I slumped against the wall, my forehead pressed to the cold stone, and tried to remember how to breathe.
I pressed the heel of my palm against my chest, trying to slow the pounding. It didn't work. Nothing worked.
I stayed in the stairwell until the moon climbed higher, until the silence swallowed everything, until I could almost pretend I had never gone to her room at all.
Then the footsteps came.
"Let get your things packed, Grey-Grey. We will leave tomorrow after the tournament of dragons"
It was Mulan. She was standing there.
I looked towards Tilly's door one more time before I turned back to Mulan.
"Okay, Mama"