‘listen to me, butterfly... there's only so much wine.’
︵‿୨♡୧‿︵
your fingers slowly card through grayson's hair, your empty wine glasses collecting in the coffee table as you stare at the christmas tree.
it's now the day after christmas. on christmas day, you had nothing to say.
grayson had been in one of those moods. self destructive, cruel. he chucked chairs around- he threw his fucking clothes in the snow, for god's sake.
you had gotten into a slight argument. all day, you had tried to stay out of his way, only to end up in your car driving around aimlessly to clear your thoughts anyway.
he's clearly slightly hungover when his eyes crack open, his head resting on your lap.
“there's only so much wine that you can drink in one life.” he says groggily. “and it seems i've had far too much. christ, my head.”
“all the wine in the world, and it'll never be enough.” you say with a small smile. to save you from the bottom of the glass, you think, but you don't say that part out loud.
“when did you come home last night?” he asks, a slight look of guilt crossing his face. he frowns, and looks at the huge christmas tree.
only the hawthorne best.
like what grayson expects himself to be.
“i just drove up the state highway. watched the stars. got back around midnight, and you were still passed out.” you contue gently stroking his blonde hair.
“right. last night... i was a mess.” he winces apologetically. still looking guilty. “i ruined yesterday. completely. and it's all my fault, butterfly. i'm so sorry.”