chapter twelve, softly spoken
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Grace's world stood still before her.

His lips parted slightly; each breath heavy with the misty air. His eyes, a sorrowful blue, peeked out from under the glow of the porch light, raindrops tracing the edges of his face.

She couldn't help but let her eyes wander over every inch of him, lingering on the curve of his upper lip and the way his hands lightly tapped his thighs.

She couldn't stop staring.

Even after countless hours of studying his face in her dreams, she found herself gazing at him as if he were entirely new, like she had to learn every detail all over again.

Her fingers must have tightened around the door's edge, a soreness now creeping into her fingertips and up her arm.

She felt as though someone needed to pinch her to make sure she wasn't dreaming.

Uncertain if what she was seeing was real.

Cole seemed equally disbelieving; his eyes widening with realization as he took in Grace standing before him.

Time dragged on as they gazed at each other, both seemingly searching the other for answers. Grace paid close attention to the way his chest rose, her own breath hitching with every inhale.

After what felt like an eternity, Cole raked a weary hand through his dampened hair, the strands sticking out in disarray. With a deep inhale, his chest rose, and he licked his lips.

"Hi," he said, his voice low. Grace's eyes narrowed reflexively, the sound of his voice tightening her chest. She had memorized it but hearing it in person only caused more pain.

It had been a week since she last saw him, and in that time, she had replayed the possibilities of seeing him over and over in her mind.

The things she would say to him.

The things Jackie had told her.

Yet, for the second time that day, nothing escaped past her lips.

Not even air.

She casted a hesitant glance back into the house, her heart fluttering as she feared that if she looked away for too long, Cole would vanish like he often did in her dreams.

Her father leaned casually against the kitchen doorframe; a towel draped over his shoulder. His gentle smile tugged at Grace's heart, a silent acknowledgment passing between them.

He had called Cole.

That phone call was for him. 

Tilting her head, she regarded her father with soft eyes.

"Go," he mouthed, nodding in encouragement, his words barely audible.

A soft smile played on Grace's lips as she drew in a shaky breath, turning back to Cole, who stood with his hands buried in his pockets.

His gaze never wavered from hers, its softness spreading warmth through Grace's body.

Being with him made her forget everything else—even the things he had done.

She knew it was dangerous, the hold he unknowingly had over her. But still, she...

With a sharp intake of breath, she took a hesitant step forward, and Cole instinctively moved back, giving her space. Silently, she shut the door behind her, deliberately avoiding his gaze as she descended the porch steps.

Without a word, he fell into step beside her as they ventured further into the yard.

Grace didn't know where they were headed, or if there was even a place to go.

They simply walked, side by side.

Rain gently fell upon their skin, offering a fleeting coolness that soothed the ache rising within Grace's body. She doubted if she could ever extinguish it completely.

This warmth, a gentle ember glowing deep within her stomach, that surged through her veins like wildfire when Cole was around.

Deep down, she knew she would never be able to erase that feeling he gave her.

Not even years later.

She pushed down the feeling nonetheless, biting at the inside of her mouth, attempting to divert her attention elsewhere.

It only seemed to work momentarily; the mere thought of Cole beside her causing her chest to tighten, collapse in on itself.

She glanced off to the side, her gaze devoid of Cole. Slowly, she closed her eyes, inhaling and exhaling in unsteady breaths.

Her palm found its way to the surface of her chest, rubbing it back and forth in slow, soothing motions.

Something inside her seethed, yearning, pushing against her chest. She didn't know what it craved, what would satisfy this hunger, but before she could dwell on it, she spoke.

"Why did you," she exhaled slowly, gathering herself. "Do it?"

Cole remained silent; his hands still lazily tucked in his pockets.

Grace took the opportunity to steal a glance at him, noticing his hair was longer than the last time she saw him, strands tousled and unkempt, framing his face in a way that felt oddly familiar yet achingly distant.

She hadn't expected something as simple as hair to upset her, but here she was, her chest aching because time had stolen that.

They continued walking in silence, and Grace didn't push him to speak. She wasn't sure if she was ready to hear his answer anyway.

But as they turned down a gravel path, rain puddling beneath their steps, he finally spoke.

"She was hurt," he said, his voice clear.

Grace didn't respond. Instead, she gazed out at the plains surrounding her house.

She knew Jackie was hurting.

Knows what that pain feels like.

She wouldn't wish it upon anyone, that searing ache of grief that builds up within you, leaving scars both inside and out. 

She knows the feeling of collapsing, of having no one there to soften the fall.

Hell, she witnessed it in Jackie that night at the lake house, watched her crumble in her bed right before her eyes.

"She doesn't have anyone, Grace," he added, and for the first time since he showed up at her house, he glanced over at her.

His eyes were darker than they were a few moments ago, the rain casting them a navy blue, reminiscent of the aquarium at night.

And for the second time, Grace found herself unable to tear her eyes away.

The rain enveloped him, tracing the contours of his features with a delicate touch, accentuating even the smallest creases in his eyes.

His hair, slightly dampened and just long enough to curl underneath his ears, seemed to hold a piece of Grace she hadn't realized could be reached.

There was something so familiar in the way he looked at her, as if he could see every thought crossing her mind.

She held her breath, reluctant to let it go, fearful of what might escape along with it.

Because there he stood, the same Cole she had fallen in love with two months ago, and yet Grace couldn't shake the heavy weight of fatigue that settled on her shoulders.

Weeks.

Weeks had slipped by since he took Jackie, and he never mentioned it. Grace couldn't shake the thought of that.

With a slow inhale, she gathered her courage. "You could have told me, "She said softly, her gaze meeting his. His eyes remained fixed on hers. "I would have understood."

He didn't hesitate to respond. "I know."

Grace slowly nodded, her gaze drifting down to the ground.

He knows?

He... knows?

An uneasy weight settled on her chest, the realization sinking in that everything could have been different if he had spoken up sooner.

Or if she had listened sooner.

If they had just taken the time, sooner, perhaps they wouldn't have had to go through all of this.

She buried the thought deep within, her lip caught between her teeth once more. They fell back into silence, walking side by side, their shoulders lightly brushing against each other.

Grace typically wouldn't have welcomed the quiet, her mother's voice often haunting her thoughts. But with Cole, it felt different.

She found comfort in the silence.

In that moment of quietness, where she didn't have to pretend to be anything other than herself, even in her half-broken state.

As the rain grew heavier, Grace's hair became a tangle of curls under the relentless weather, while her jacket acquired a slick sheen of water.

Without needing to glance at Cole, she could picture his hair flattened by the rain, adhering to his forehead.

Yet neither of them complained.

They remained silent, walking slowly in each other's presence, unfazed by the downpour surrounding them.

After a while, Grace wasn't surprised when she didn't shiver in the rain; her thoughts sending warmth coursing through her body.

Or rather, one thought in particular.

Cole seemed to reach every corner of her being: at the surface of her chest, behind her eyelids, and at the midpoint of her neck.

She could feel his presence everywhere, a distraction gnawing at the inside of her head.

So, when their steps started to slow, it wasn't until they were practically upon it that Grace realized where they were headed—the gravestone just a few feet ahead.

Her breath caught, her mind suddenly clear as she approached her mother's grave, The name etched into the stone, partially hidden beneath a veil of overgrown moss.

Water droplets traced a melancholic path along the indents of her mother's name, as if shedding tears for the person it memorialized.

Grace hadn't visited her mother's grave since the funeral a few months ago, but the image of it remained vivid in her mind.

Nothing could erase the memory of her mother's burial, not even the passing of time.

"What was she like?" Cole asked, his voice softer than she had ever heard.

Grace faltered, her mouth going dry.

It had been so long since anyone had asked her about her mother, and the mere thought made her eyes heavy.

What was she like?

"She was..." Grace started, a half-laugh escaping her as she sniffled. "Bright. Always knew what to say. She just had this way of life."

They lapsed into silence and Grace stared at her mother's grave, the ground turning into a muddy mixture of grass and gravel.

Something inside her mind stirred, tentative in its movement. Grace knew what it was, silently anticipating its response.

But the response never came.

Instead, it retreated, hiding within the folds of Grace's thoughts, too hesitant to emerge, for then it would become real.

Not just for Grace, but for her mother's voice.

It would mean she was truly gone.

Grace felt it slowly fade away, her attention drawn to Cole, who stood motionless, watching her.

She had never confided in him about the voices, but something within her knew he understood, could see it written upon her face.

She met his gaze, rain tracing his features, cascading down the curve of his chin. There was something so achingly beautiful about him, she thought.

A small smiled graced his features, and Grace traced the curve of his mouth, committing it to memory.

"She sounds beautiful," he said, his words wrapping tightly around Grace's heart.

She slowly tore her gaze away, returning her attention to the grave. "She was," she murmured, the words tasting bitter at they left her mouth.

Was.

"She is." Grace corrected herself, closing her eyes briefly before meeting Cole's gaze again, which never wavered from hers.

He smiled softly at her, his eyes dancing around her face. The rain fell harder, and despite the knot twisting in his stomach, he spoke.

"We should head back," he said softly, his words sinking into Grace's stomach as well.

What would happen once they returned?

Would he leave?

The thoughts ricocheted around in her mind, but before she could dwell on any one of them, she nodded lightly and started walking back.

Cole fell into step beside her, their pace matching as if they had done this a hundred times before.

The rain had intensified, its drumming on the ground growing louder. It splattered in irregular patterns, forming puddles that pooled as they walked.

Grace found it somewhat ridiculous, speed-walking in the pouring rain with a boy whose intentions she couldn't quite decipher.

The thought elicited a soft laugh from her lips, the sound barely audible amidst the roaring of the thunderous sky.

But it wasn't quite enough to escape Cole's notice.

He watched her intently, his gaze encompassing her entirely, as if her laughter held the key to unlocking his every secret.

They picked up their pace, breaking into a run back to the house, their feet splashing against the ground in loud slaps of water.

By the time they reached the house, both of them were thoroughly drenched, rainwater clinging to their clothes and hair. Thunder rumbled overhead, sending shivers coursing through their bodies.

Grace hurriedly climbed the porch steps, reaching for the front door. It wasn't until she turned around that she realized how close behind Cole was, his figure looming over her.

His gaze bore into hers, his hair dripping over his forehead, his lips slightly parted. Grace swallowed hard; her breath caught in her throat.

His eyes softened, silently pleading.

A small, involuntary shiver ran down Grace's spine at the richness in his eyes. And then, slowly, a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, his lips curling into a dangerous smile.

Grace's eyes fell to his mouth, captivated.

Cole must have caught on because slowly, his grin widened, revealing a row of teeth as he let out a low chuckle.

"As much as I love you looking at me like this," he leaned closer, "and I really do, can we please go inside?" he asked, his voice sending shivers coursing through her body.

Grace lifted her gaze, meeting his eyes, feeling utterly speechless.

Completely and utterly speechless.

Cole only smiled brighter, his grin widening as he leaned in ever so slightly. With a gentle gesture, he wrapped an arm around her waist, his eyes unwavering as he opened the front door.

The satisfying click of the door latch brought Grace's scattered thoughts back together, allowing her mind to focus on one solid idea.

Cole Walters was going to be in her house.

With a shaky inhale, she tore her gaze away from Cole's captivating smile, turning around and stepping inside the entranceway.

The distant chatter of her family drifted from the living room, accompanied by her grandfather's hearty laughter, echoing through the small house like the distant rumble of thunder.

They must not have heard the door open, and for once, Grace silently thanked her grandfather's never-ending stories.

She quietly led the way down the hallway, casting a glance over her shoulder at Cole, whose grin seemed to grow more mischievous by the second.

She could see his thoughts swirling in his eyes.

Shaking her head to clear her own thoughts, she began to make her way down the hallway, Cole following closely behind. They moved quietly, pausing at a familiar chipped door.

Grace slowly pushed it open, gesturing for Cole to step inside.

He smirked at her before entering, Grace trailing behind. She flicked on the light switch, casting her bedroom in a soft yellow glow.

Cole stood in the center of the room, his eyes darting around, taking in every detail.

Suddenly, Grace felt exposed, as if her entire life was laid bare before him. Yet, despite her vulnerability, all she could think about was the fact that Cole Walters was standing in her bedroom.

A cold shiver coursed throughout her body, the action a stark reminder of just how soaked her clothes were. With a soft click, she shut the door behind her, deliberately avoiding Cole's gaze as she crossed her room.

With a creak, she pulled open a dresser drawer, retrieving an old long-sleeve shirt her father had given her. Slowly turning around, she held it out for Cole to take.

"It's not much," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation. "But it's better than that."

He smiled, accepting the shirt before turning away. Without any hesitation, he began to undress, removing his jacket, revealing the damp fabric of his undershirt clinging to his skin.

Grace couldn't seem to think straight.

She stood motionless, her eyes fixed on the fabric of his shirt bunching with each movement, revealing glimpses of his lower back.

She knew she was staring, and so did Cole, as he adjusted himself just enough to catch her gaze, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

A blush spread across Grace's cheeks, and she turned away swiftly, busying herself with rummaging through her dresser drawer to distract herself.

But the mere sound of him moving made her stomach clench, halting her movements.

"I'm done," he said softly, and Grace turned around, giving him a quick once-over. His pants were still damp in places, but the shirt appeared to be dry, providing at least some relief.

It was an old baseball shirt her father had worn in high school. Its sleeves a deep blue with a white middle section.

Cole looked surprisingly good in it, she thought.

"You should probably change too," he suggested, and Grace was caught off guard by his words. He must have sensed her surprise, as he quickly added, "No, I'm not trying to get you naked."

Grace chuckles lightly, and he seemed to revel in the sound.

She turned back to her dresser, shoving a piece of hair behind her ear as she retrieved a shirt and sweatpants.

With a heavy push, she closed the drawer and set her clothes on top. Glancing over her shoulder, she caught Cole's eye.

He smirked in response.

"Turn around," she instructed slowly, a smile playing at her lips. He rolled his eyes playfully before complying.

Grace quickly shed her wet jacket, letting it fall to the ground before grabbing the hem of her short and pulling it over her head.

The cool air brushed against her exposed skin, eliciting a shiver.

Swiftly, she pulled on a plain red t-shirt, unbuttoning her pants shortly after. She didn't dwell on the face that Cole could be watching her, but the sound of him shifting behind her sent another blush creeping to her cheeks.

She let her pants drop to the floor, quickly pulling on the sweatpants.

"I'm done," she announced, bending down to pick up her clothes and placing them in a basket off to the side.

He didn't respond, and when Grace turned around, she found him standing in front of her desk, a picture in his hands.

The rain beat hard against the window behind him, and Grace couldn't help but think he looked the most handsome she had ever seen him.

She walked over to where he was, leaning over his shoulder to get a better look at the picture in his hands. It was a childhood photo of her and Grayson, sitting side by side in a sandbox.

Grayson wore a lopsided hat perched on his head, holding a plastic shovel out in front of him. His eyes were squinted shut; a wide grin spread across his face.

He still does that today, Grace thought.

"You we're an incredibly cute kid," Cole remarked softly, glancing over at Grace with a fond smile.

She kept her gaze fixed on the photograph, studying the image of her younger self sitting with her legs stretched out, a sandcastle between her knees.

She had a crooked smile, her baby teeth still growing in, and her hair was cut into a short bob. Grace couldn't help but smile at the memory before turning around and taking a seat on the end of her bed.

Cole placed the photo back in its original spot before walking over to the dresser across from Grace. Leaning back against it, he kept his eyes fixed on her as she settled back, her weigh resting on her palms.

He watched her closely, and Grace felt as though his gaze left scorch marks across her skin, the pit of her stomach igniting into a wildfire.

They remained silent for a moment, simply watching each other, and Grace felt that familiar hunger stirring inside her once again.

She didn't want to acknowledge it, but before she could stop herself, she found herself saying his name.

"Cole," she breathed, his name escaping her lips like a whispered prayer. He stood still, his hands resting on the dresser across from her. "Why did you come here?"

The room fell into silence, minutes passing as they held each other's gaze.

Neither of them looked away, and Grace wasn't sure if she could even if she wanted to. There was something mesmerizing in the way he studied her, almost as if he could see right through her.

Slowly, Cole peeled himself away from the dresser and approached her, dropping to his knees.

She couldn't believe it.

Couldn't breathe.

Cole Walters, kneeling before her.

For her.

He licked his lips, meeting her eyes.

"Because," he began, his hands tentatively finding their place on her thighs. "I want you. You're all I've ever wanted."

Grace's stomach clenched as his words encircled her, tightening their grip. She became acutely aware of his touch, the searing warmth beneath his fingertips as they grazed her thighs.

Her lips parted, but only silence filled the air.

Cole couldn't suppress his smile at her reaction.

Her eyes instinctively dropped to his lips, mesmerized by their curve. She could have gazed at him forever, she realized.

It wouldn't have mattered if that was the only thing she ever got to do on this planet, because she loved looking at him.

She loved him.

Gently, she reached out a hand, noticing how Cole's chest seemed to pause its rise and fall. Slowly, she brushed a strand of hair away from his face, her palm tracing the line of his cheek.

His skin felt cool beneath her touch, and he leaned into her. It was a mixture of warmth and rainwater mingling between their fingertips, like a storm brewing beneath the surface.

His lips parted, heavy breaths escaping past them. Grace hadn't torn her gaze away from his mouth, and when she finally did, she found him staring at hers.

Her pulse quickened, and she tightened her grip on his face ever so slightly, urging him to meet her gaze. He complied, lifting his eyes to meet hers, their dark blue illuminated by the soft glow of the bedroom light.

His hands tightened on her thighs in response, and in that moment, Grace knew she was completely lost in him.

There was no turning back now.

Slowly, she guided his face upward, his body following suit. And in the midst of the storm raging outside, Grace Calloway pressed her lips against Cole's, igniting a tempest of their own.

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━ Authors note!

"I want you. You're all I've ever wanted."

Did not proofread this what so ever, oh well !
Vote and comment if you enjoyed!
It means the world to me.
See you next time ;)