Greyson Ross
āWake up, cold sweat, scratching, itching
Trying to escape the skin that barely fit him.ā
The smoke from his joint sent a plume out the window that mimicked the never-ending greyness above. It was dawn, the first light of day illuminating the scattering of snow across this ruined portion of the city. The nightlife had settled only an hour ago, leaving a discomforting stillness across a usually tumultuous neighborhood.
He wasnāt sure at what point it had snowed, heād been nose deep in his own white powder as soon as heād shut the door on Max and Val. Heād immediately needed to slip into the haze of drug and memory- his back against the musky box spring and head collapsed against the old mattress. There was a crack running across the ceiling that had descended along the wall and he was having a hard time remembering if it had existed when he was a resident of this room. All that was left was his bed and an old overturned box. Heād abandoned everything when heād left three years ago, but obviously someone had not wanted his things lingering. There had been posters and photos on the wall that he could tell had been ripped down- scraps of color were still tacked up by pushpins. Everything had a layer of dust, so he knew that Haleās didnāt even use this as a guest roomā¦ the abandoned space amongst a house filled with life sent a creeping shiver down his back. He'd assumed himself forgotten, but there was still a dusty space left for him here.
With thoughts still circling that crack creeping along the ceiling, he rose from his prone position as the sun pulled itself above the silhouetted buildings and ended up on the windowsill. Joint smoldering in hand, bare back and feet locking him against the molding wood, a position that was once so habitual to him he had moved without thinking.
Val had been quick to deposit him in this vacant space, so clearly provoked by his appearance and irritated by Oliverās immediate acceptance. āI assume you still know where everything isā. Pissy for sure, Valās voice had been calm but edged with a sort of malice Grey had once attempted to avoid. But he now found that contempt interestedā¦ and felt the need to see how far he could push the man before he lost this summoned control. Maybe a bad idea, in retrospect, as he needed the least amount of resistance on his return.
He probably should have just shut the door, but Val's anger had begged him to push just a tad further, āI meanā Heād sent a pitying look at the musky room and faked a cough, āIt's pretty sad looking in there. And since theyāre closing up downstairs, you two have nowhere else to be? I definitely still know where your rooms areā
"We have plenty of places to be, all of which are not here, with you. And If you show up at either if our rooms Iāll gut you" Val hadnāt even finished his sentence before Grey had shifted enough that he could see Maxās hidden form.
Max had always been easy for Grey. He was like a golden retriever- at some point he traded brain cells for pure excited friendliness. Their first meeting Grey had found him amusing instead of annoyingā¦ and that was really all Max needed. Most people (Val included) could handle tiny doses of this kid, but Grey found that naivety and pliability intoxicating. So he kept him around, sought out his attention- and he might have been the first person to ever to that for Max.
Grey exhaled smoke out the window and pictured Max's quivering form, barely hidden behind Val but momentarily safe from Greys icy eyes. Max was refusing to meet his gaze- he probably knew he couldnāt handle it. So Grey had settled for a small, gentle smile...a look that had earned him unwavering devotion three years ago.
<b>āAh, noā¦ but heās rightā</b>. Maxās voice had been a shaking mess, his tone tight as he tried to hide his discomfort. Grey'd decided to take pity on him- he'd needed another fix anyway and Valās glare was threatening to set the hallway on fire.
āWell sleep tight boys. Iāll see you guys for pancakes in the morningā He'd managed to catch Maxās eyes with that comment, a little light flickering in there from their old routine. That was really all Grey needed to reaffirm how easy this would be.
God damn.
The house was dead, the nocturnal routine of Haleās ensuring that the early morning hours were reserved for returning sex workers and dead-to-the-world drunks. He assumed it was around 7 or 8am, but time seemed to slip away from him here.
Val was right. He knew where everything is, so much so that the Bisquik was still in the same place in the kitchen. Pans, measuring cups, spatula- everything still in its rightful spot, like Hales had stood still while he was gone. The only thing missing was maple syrup... and Grey had to convince himself that the missing ingredient wasnāt intentional. The syrup had been a <i>thing</i> back in the day and after seeing Maxās reaction, Grey was beginning to see that his ghost was a taboo subject here.
He made a stack, overloading a plate to fulfill their old ritual. The kitchen was a warm, buttery, pancake filled glow and Grey couldnāt help but feel a little sense of āhomeā. He usually wasnāt awake for this kind of breakfast anymore and rarely cooked for himself, choosing to either order in or skip eating entirely. This was all for appearances- to soothe the grumbling Hale house at his return. Grey was only slightly annoyed to find he was also comforted by the meal.
Pancakes safe in a warming-up oven for the rest of the house, he took his over to the table. A few beer cans and ash tray lay out on a table that looked sticky to the touch. Grey ignored it, avoided putting his elbows on the dirty surface, and pulled another joint out of his pocket.
The house was still as he ate slightly, cindering weed in one hand and fork in the other. Grey anticipated someone would rise early- none of the routines here were ever entirely synchronized- he was damn excited to see who it would be. Maybe that little white-haired fuckable thing heād seen eyeing him like the last drop of water last night? Hopefully, it wouldnāt bee the Queen Bitch, as he needed a little more coke in his system before he dealt with her. Oliver would be easy... but he was really hoping he'd hear the hurried footsteps of his old golden shadow. The pancakes were really for him, and Val, and appeasement for the years gone. He knew it would take more then that to eradicate the shadow of his ghost, but it was a start. He certainly didn't need curious eyes following his every move once he started pushing.
Max would be a fun addition to an already nostalgic morning and Grey decided that if he didn't show up soon, he'd have to bring a few pancakes to his room.
Grey took a drag, smiled, and exhaled, mingling the striking smell of marijuana with the warmth of the pancakes.