You thought you'd taken his breath away. Then he dropped the glass in his hand, it his the floor and shattered. Grayson stared at you. "What are you doing?" His voice was guttural. "I don't understand," you said.

"Your hair," he choked out. "That necklace. That dress.." his fingers nearly touching it before pulling away in a fist. "What?" The only word he managed was a name.

"I didn't do this on purpose," you told him under your breath. "Of course not," Grayson replied, his tone stiff. "I'd take the braid out if I could," you murmured. "But I can't do it myself."

His head tilted down slightly, his eyes closing, just for a moment. "I know."