ｃｈｒｙｓｓｉｅ

ｓｔａｉｎｅｄ

Chryssie stared at the ceiling.

She couldn't sleep. How could she sleep in that house?

Her throat was dry, and after much debating, she slid out of the bed and crept across the floor. Maybe Grayson wouldn't hear her if she snuck to the kitchen to get some water.

Hopefully.

Quiet as a mouse, she tiptoed, wincing every time the floorboards underneath her feet creaked with her weight.

As she went further down the stairs, she noticed a peculiar smell filling the air. A metallic sort of smell that was sickening, a smell that made her stomach turn. Subconsciously, she found herself reaching up and plugging her nose.

It only got worse when she reached the kitchen, but she tried her hardest to ignore it.

She was pouring herself a mug full of water when she heard him.

"Chrysanthemum?"

She whirled around, the mug slipping out of her hands and shattering on the floor.

"Bloody-" she started to say as the cold liquid drenched her nightdress. Her teeth started to shatter as ice slid down her legs.

But when she saw Grayson, her concerns for her own wellbeing were gone, and she gave an almighty shriek of utter terror.

He was drenched in blood that definitely wasn't his own.

~

Grayson was smiling.

He was proud of himself, he wouldn't deny it. It had been one of his goals - getting rid of that bastard for good, getting justice. But at the terrified look on his Chryssie's face, he finally registered the blood slathered on his skin, soaking through his white shirt.

A shirt that would never be white again.

When she finally spoke, her voice was choked. "Who - what - what happened?"

Grayson cocked his head at the look on her face, confused as to her reaction. It was almost funny to him, how concerned she was, and for a moment, he found himself trying his hardest not to let laughter bubble up past his lips. However, the amusement quickly disappeared in the wake of her discomfort, and he felt nothing but want for her to feel safe.

"It's nothing, don't worry about it. What are you doing down here?"

The slightest of thoughts slipped into his head at her lack of a response, the horror on her face obviously evidence of her being shocked into silence. Perhaps she had been trying to leave him, and the mere idea made him panic.

"What are you doing down here?" he repeated, his question more frantic, his mind in a frenzy. "Did you know I was gone? Were you - "

"I was getting water," she interrupted suddenly, her voice pitched high, her eyes affixed to his clothing. The statement allowed him to relax, his tensed muscles loosening,

"Oh. Well, I suppose that I should have drawn that conclusion myself," he said, gesturing to the shattered mug on the floor. "I'll clean it up."