The Fence

Chapter 82: Strong

I hold her leather sketchbook in my hands, flipping through the endless amount of pages filled with her detailed drawings. I pause on the one of Ky, thinking back to the time that I teased her about drawing my brother.

"You got everything right on," I'd murmured. She jumped, her face pink with blush. Giggling, I said, "don't fall for my brother. He's a sweetheart, but a real idiot."

She had laughed nervously. "I-I'm not falling for anyone. He's sitting right there, so I figured I'd finish up the drawing I started."

I flip to the next page. Looking through her sketchbook, the one she's had ever since we first arrived at the Central Building, is something I never thought I'd do. Of course I've been curious to see what's in here, but I've never had the courage to ask. It seemed too private, too close to her to go digging through. Now she isn't here to oppose.

I flip to a more recent page in her book. A hand is outstretched, reaching toward the viewer. A diamond sits right in the middle of the palm, tainted a rust color. A yukos diamond.

"Going through her book?" Grey murmurs above me. I glance up at his gray eyes; take in the stony look on his face.

I don't know when he got here, or back for that matter. I gently close the book, setting it beside me. "Are you okay?"

Grey doesn't reply, only gazes down at the sketchbook resting against the log I am sitting on. I stare up at him, still waiting for his answer, before a feeling grips me.

"Where were you, by the way?"

His eyes avert to me, but he still doesn't reply.

"You've got to be kidding. Don't do this. Don't be that cold man you were when you first met me. I don't want to go back there."

"Well," he finally mutters. "I don't think you have a choice."

I scoff. "You never answered my question. Where were you? You missed Merida's funeral, for God's sake! You trained her! I know she didn't support you in the end, but didn't you care about her at all? Couldn't you give her that respect?"

"There wouldn't have been a funeral at all if you-"

I stop him, feeling a coldness rush through my veins. "Don't even finish that sentence."

"Why not?"

"You can't be blaming me."

"Why not?"

"Why? Holt was the one with the gun!"

Grey groans, causing me to step back. "You stick yourself in places you don't belong, and then it reflects on the rest of us. You always need a knight to come in and save you. You could've helped yourself last night if you wanted to."

"In case you haven't heard, Holt had a gun to my head! If I had done anything, use my elements, Sutikka, called out, he would have killed me! So no, Grey, I could not have helped myself last night. And by the way, you weren't there with us. You were in the woods somewhere. You could've been my knight, but you weren't. When I told you what happened, you walked off. You didn't ask if I was even okay."

"What, did I need to make sure your PTSD was in check?"

My heart turns to stone, almost crumbling in its very spot. I huff out a shaky breath. "Screw you."

I turn on my heel to walk away, but his hand grabs hold of my arm to stop me. "Wait."

I shake his hand off, shooting him an icy glare. "Get off me, Grey."

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

I cross my arms, shielding myself from the cold. "What's going on with you?"