When Gracie Met The Grump

by Mariana Zapata

I wanted to watch some TV while I cooled down. Then I’d have dinner, shower, squeeze in my last lesson, maybe finish reading my book while I ate that rocky road, and finally go to bed. Just like every day. And if that made my chest get a little tight, then it made my chest get a little tight.

C’est la fucking vie, right?

The Defender didn’t smell, and there was no wet spot anywhere on the material beneath his butt, and that was my scientific proof that he hadn’t pooped or peed. He ate, so he had to digest his food somehow. Did beings like him even go? Did they have… buttholes?

Lol

Glancing up, he looked so… normal in my clothes. His dark hair was a tangled mess that was mostly tucked behind his ears. And there was the rest of that face and those roundish-shaped eyes…. The pants fortunately fit him fine, and then there was the shirt. I was pretty sure he hadn’t noticed the white cat with a crooked pink bow on one pointed ear. It was one of my biggest shirts. Lifting my gaze, I met those dark purple eyes, and a feeling of dread tickled me right between the shoulder blades. “If you’re done… checking me out… can I get a wet towel to wipe off… with?”