A Little Bit Married

Twenty Nine

I blinked, my chest heaving as my nails dug into whatever was below them. It felt too very eerily like flesh, and I turned, only to see that I had dig my nails right into Gray's hand, and blood was oozing through the small, blotches winds around the back of his hand.

"Oh my God. Gray, I..."

I turned to him, my eyes wide, and he was still watching me, unfazed by the pain. I swallowed, my chest heaving.

"You are hurt."

He didn't take his eyes off me as he slowly moved, then leaned away from me.

"I know."

He gave a small wicked smile as he took the suit and turned away, leaving me sitting there, my eyes wide, my heart hammering wildly against my chest, my knees weak.

I turned to my nails and swallowed, feeling the sensation of them digging in, and I wondered how bad it would have hurt.

"Would you like a first aid box? "

I looked up to the attendant and immediately nodded, a smile lifting my lips. "Yes, please."

She nodded and then walked away. I turned to the citrine dressing room, and my hands clasped in each other, my mind treacherously replaying the scenes of Gray in my head.

His eyes, his hair, the elegant way he spoke. It was a relief to not see him angry in so long. When he wasn't angry, he seemed almost... too calm. Or was it just me?

"Here, ma'am."

I turned to her and collected it gratefully. I stood up, adjusting my dress, before I slowly made my way towards the curtains.

I cleared my throat as a way to announce my presence before I peeked in.

He had his back to me, the new suit hung up without the oants it had come with, while the old clothes he had been wearing were on the floor.

That meant he was shirtless and fixing the oents around him as it had some sort of wrap that should go around the waist and buttoned to the side.

"Do you need help?"

He didn't reply, and I walked in, then leaned to gently drop the first aid. He let go of the wrap as I took it, and he turned away, a small sigh leaving his lips.

"Is something bothering you?"

He shrugged. "Not that I know of."

I looked up as I leaned, my hand going to his side, my other hand going to the other side so I could take the wrap.

He looked down at me, his eyes softening a little, as intensity cracked through. I could see a bit of him emotions more clearly now, and I could tell that I did the same sort of things that he did to me.

Or at least, I hoped.

I took the wrap on the other side, then leaned away, my heart going wild yet again. At this pace, I would crash and burn solely on the speed of my own heart.

He cleared his throat and turned away, and I could feel the tension rise as I buttoned the wrap.

"You never told me what the occasion was," I said, looking up to him.

He hesitated, then shrugged. "It is my birthday."

My eyes widened, and I moved so I could be in his line of vision. He was much taller, however, and he still needed to look down at me.

"Why didn't you tell me that?"

"I turned twenty-nine. What difference would it make?"

"I don't know. We could have gone back home. They are probably so anxious and waiting for you to come home so they can celebrate it."

"They don't," he said simply before moving away to grab the shirt. "No one does. I go to the company party and I go back home. That's it."

His voice gave nothing about how he felt away, and I could only stand there, unsure of what to do or say. He took his shirt out, and I held it back.

"You might stain it."

He looked down at his hand, then sighed. "I just want this over and done with," he said under his breath as I grabbed the first aid box and took out a cotton wool and some spirit.

"I am sorry, Gray."

He didn't reply as I took his hand, then held it tight. "It will sting."

He let out a small breath. "I bet."

I slowly patted down the injury, my eyes alternating between his hand and his face, but his expression didn't change, not even once. I wrapped it up before leaning away.

I brought the crisp white shirt again, and without arguing, he let me wear it on him. I slowly buttoned him up, my mind bringing up inappropriate scenes of him, but I shook it off.

I finally reached the collar, fixed it, and then took a step back.

"You don't look twenty-nine," I said, a small smile that I hoped would help his bad mood playing on my lips.

"What do I look like?"

I shrugged, then brought his jacket. "Like my husband."

Bold, I know, but I wasn't wrong also. He was my husband, and he looked just like that. The one who would take me away from the altar. The one who would put a ring on my finger. The one who I would watch above me, against the setting sun.

He said nothing for the longest time as he wore his jacket, and I smoothed it on his body.

"Perfect," I said, more subconsciously than deliberately, but I didn't even bother correcting it.

"You think so?" He asked, but with the confidence in his voice, I could tell he knew just how perfect he really was.

"Yes. Very much so."

He gave a small smile, before he leaned, his thumb and index taking my chin between them as he raised my face to him. Slowly, he leaned, then placed a small, fluttery kiss on the edge of my lips.

My eyes closed for the tenth of a second that the kiss had lasted, before he pulled away, his eyes darting across both of mine.

"I think so too," he whispered against my lips before he walked away, leaving me dazed and hardly standing on my own feet.