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Grace showered for an exceedingly long time, not sure she'd ever feel completely clean

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Grace showered for an exceedingly long time, not sure she'd ever feel completely clean. She let the hot water run over her skin until it was shriveled up and pruny and she thought she couldn't take the heat of it anymore. After she'd washed her hair three times and soaped up her body a couple more than that, she turned off the water and stepped out into the bathroom.

She got dressed slowly, pulling on each item of clean clothing that Jim had brought from the bedroom while she'd still showered thoughtfully, her mind swimming with a thousand different things. She couldn't believe how badly she really did want to go to rehab now, how badly she really did want to get better. It was all she could think about and she almost wished she was already there. She was so surprisingly excited to see what her life looked like on the other side of the tunnel that was her addiction.

Once finally fully clothed, she stepped out into the hallway and immediately stopped in her tracks. Jim wasn't alone. Grace could also distinctly hear Mick's voice. She stopped to listen to them, to try and get a read on whether he was angry or not. She couldn't make out their words, but he didn't sound too mad. Or maybe he did. Honestly, she wasn't sure.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped out into the living room, looking back and forth between where Mick sat on the couch and Jim had somehow curled his long legs underneath him in an armchair. Mick stood at once upon seeing her, closing the space between them with a few long strides and pulling her into a tight hug.

"You're a fucking dumbass," he said, the words surprising her. "Of course I didn't mean that shit. You're my sister, Grace. You'd have to do a hell of a lot more than have a drug habit to get me to write you off. I'm not going anywhere," he told her, and she cursed herself for crying again but couldn't stop it. She nodded into his chest, not unwrapping her arms from around his back when he went to pull away a few moments later. He settled back into the hug, holding her while she cried.

"I'm sorry. I... I didn't mean to, and I... I want to get real help," she sobbed, and she felt him nod above her.

"I heard. I'm really happy for you, Gracie. That's really good," he said quietly, and she pulled away enough to look up at him.

"Thank you for being a fucking amazing fake brother, Micky," she told him tearfully, and he nodded.

"I love you, little sister," he said quietly, making her cry harder. She knew he'd told her he loved her before, but it wasn't often and was usually only in moments like this where she was already emotional so there was no way it wasn't going to hit her like a train.

"I love you too, but you're only older by six months, you prick," she whispered, making both of them laugh. He nodded.

"But you'll always be my little sister."

She rolled her eyes, hugging him tightly one more time and then pulling apart completely.

"So, I'll look for a place and try to get checked in as soon as possible. Will you both come with me?" she asked, looking between the two of them. Both nodded.

"Of course," Mick told her.

"Absolutely," Jim piped up.

Mick had an interview to get to and left shortly after, leaving Jim and Grace alone again.

"Did you clean the kitchen?" she asked him, realizing suddenly that the smell would definitely be lingering through the small apartment if he hadn't. He nodded.

"Yep."

"Thank you," she whispered, moving across the room to him and climbing onto his lap in the chair. He shifted to accommodate her, wrapping his arms around her.

"You're welcome," he said quietly, leaning his head into her chest. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair, making him sigh contentedly.

"I don't just mean for cleaning. I mean for everything," she informed him, and he shrugged.

"I've been in love with you for a long fucking time, Grace. You didn't know it but I would've done anything you asked for at least the last couple of years. Doing shit to make you happy and make you feel comfortable and loved isn't something that you need to thank me for. I always want you to be happy and feel comfortable and loved. You're smart, you care so deeply about the people you love, and you make me laugh harder than anyone else ever has," he told her, not looking up at her. "Plus, when you're not covered in puke and don't smell like a dumpster, you're fucking beautiful and damn near irresistible. It's not like I'm getting a bad end of the deal," he told her, making her laugh and tug on a chunk of his hair playfully.

He lifted his head and looked up at her and she could immediately tell that his green eyes had changed from cautious and concerned to something else entirely. She smirked, reaching up and tracing the line of his jaw with one of her fingertips. She could see goosebumps rise over the soft skin of his neck and nipped at it gently, smirking again devilishly when she could immediately feel his pulse start to race.

"Jamie," she whispered into his neck, and he made a low groan in the back of his throat in response. "I love you so much," she whispered in his ear, smiling again as even more goosebumps rose across his skin.

She pulled her head out of the crook of his neck to look at him, feeling stirrings deep within her belly at the explicitly lustful look in his eyes.

"I love you too," he whispered roughly, moving his lips so that they were so close to hers she could feel his breath. "Let me show you how much," he told her, and she nodded, letting their lips meet desperately.

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