— News. Grayson hated the idea of love: look what loving Olive did to him. He could see nothing of the pall of sadness that fell over him.

Chance was never something he considered. But, you see, it had been three years since Olive left, three years since he'd been able to kiss or sleep with anyone. What made him kiss you was a mixture of drunkenness and need, that was it.

You studied at the same university as him, not the same course, definitely. He shouldn't have known that, but he did. Just like he shouldn't have gone after you after that party...but he did. It wasn't out of physical attraction (honestly, you weren't that pretty) but out of neediness.

He didn't want you to fall in love with him, but you did. He saw it in everything: in the way you looked at him, in the way you were around him, in absolutely everything. But Grayson didn't love you, and he couldn't be rude to you, not when you looked at him like he was a Greek god or the world to you.

Today was Valentine's Day. Olive died on Valentine's Day three years ago. That's why he visited her parents, as if he was to blame for the accident and the least he could do was that. It was late at night, he was walking down the sidewalk.

He wanted to be alone, and as if fate hated him, footsteps resounded behind him and and it's as if he already knew who was there. Grayson forced a smile when you appeared in front of him, because he couldn't be cruel to you. “Hi...” He said, his voice soft, and a little choked from the homemade food and Olive. ”It's very late, what are you doing outside your house?”