A Ruthless Game | Grayson Hawthorne x reader

06

     "Are you sure this is the right idea?" I groaned. We had been in the Hawthorne Library for three hours now, looking through every book in the hopes of finding some secret message.

      Jameson closed the book in his hands, and his eyes moved to meet mine. "In this house, my dear, everything is something." His green eyes twinkled in the dim lighting of the library. "My grandfather has sent me and brothers in to this hundreds of times looking for clues to a puzzle. I'm telling you, Heiress, the next clue is in one of these books."

     I turned to look around the library. It had ceilings at least 20 feet tall, every wall was lined with books. There had to be thousands in here. "...Great," I sighed.

     "Just let me know if you see a book with a cover that doesn't match the sleeve, 'kay?" he grinned, getting back to work.

     For about another hour and a half, we worked in silence until he broke it. "...so, I heard you met the charming creature that is Thea today, Heiress."

     "I did," I replied coolly. "And I really hate it when you call me Heiress."

     "Would prefer Mystery Girl?"

     "You know what I mean, Jameson."

     "What did she say to you?"

     "That the last girl who came here died," is what I wanted to say, but instead I said nothing.

     He must of took my silence badly, since he put the book he was holding down and looking at me with pleading eyes.

     "Y/n, please." He was no longer asking me; he was begging me.

      I put my book down too and turned my attention to him. "She told me about this house, the people in it, you."

     "But that's not all is it?" he pushed.

     "No, it's not," I stated simply. "She said there was girl. Who spent a lot of time here," I paused. "Who died."

     He looked down before turning around and sliding his back down the bookshelf before landing on the floor. "Emily," he broke the silence. "That was her name." He sounded so sad and broken. I wanted to reach out and cradle him in my arms, but I refrained from doing so. Instead I sat down next to him. "She wasn't just some girl. She was so much more."

     "I'm so sorry," was all I could manage to say. I looked around the room awkwardly before standing up. "I think that's enough searching for one night. It's late."

     I walked over the door but stopped when wrapped his hand around my wrist and pulled me toward him. "Wait," he whispered. He looked like he was going to say something but then shook his head lightly and said, "Can we continue tomorrow?"

     "We should be down within the week if we keep the same pace."

     He grinned at me. "Don't hate me for what I'm about to say." I gave him a confused look. He pulled me even closer to him. My eyes traveled down from his and to his lips. He noticed and let out a small chuckle under his breath. Then said quietly, "There's more than one library in this house."

•  •  •

      I couldn't sleep. Not after everything that had happened today. Not after everything I had learned about this house. A girl died here. A girl Jameson had cared about.

     I wondered the halls, trying to find something to take my mind out of my thoughts. I found myself in an art gallery. The walls where lined with oil paintings from various points in the time. The middle of the room had marble statues. I walked up to one of a girl with a veil over her face. I brushed my hand over the beautiful piece of art.