When Gracie Met The Grump

by Mariana Zapata

Of course, this was a once-in-a-lifetime chance to see one of the most incredible bodies in the universe, and I couldn’t even properly enjoy it. What a fucking shame.

But, obviously, that wasn’t what he assumed, because somehow his expression got that much more irritated, which was a surprise because I hadn’t thought that was fucking possible. “No,” he snapped.

I’d go fuck myself then. I really hoped it was pain making him this bitchy.

he put his hand on the nightstand and shot me a dirty side-look that I definitely didn’t deserve. What was up his ass? Did I do something to him in a dream?

He gave me what I was starting to think was his typical answer as the burning smell peaked: The Defender grunted.

I’d almost convinced myself of it when I opened my mouth and croaked, “Do you need me to help you with the shirt?” Yeah, I wasn’t fooling fucking anybody. The Defender’s expression didn’t change at all, and I didn’t think I was imagining the ice in his voice when he answered. “Yes.” Oh boy.

Lifting my gaze, I met those dark purple eyes, and a feeling of dread tickled me right between the shoulder blades.

Was he being sarcastic? Wasn’t he supposed to be… I don’t know… above that kind of thing?

Oh, God. Were they all like this in person? Were they all undercover smart-asses?

Back in the room, I held them out to him. He didn’t take them. Was he being for real? Of course he was. Don’t check me out but give me a sponge bath.

How did this shit even happen to me? What were the chances?

The Defender’s throat bobbed as I kneeled there, wiping the towel over the tops of his hands and then his palms.

He opened his mouth, and I knew, I just knew something sarcastic was going to come out of his pretty pink mouth.

“Not that you can’t keep yourself safe. Okay.” Oh boy, someone was fucking touchy. “I can’t even be a human shield because you’re bulletproof—” “Invulnerable,” he corrected me. I blinked. Oh boy. Excuse me. Maybe it was time I started playing Call of Duty again so I could get used to dealing with moody man-boys.

That got him to open his eyes and give me the most dubious expression I’d ever seen. He probably didn’t know what it was like to not feel secure. Must be nice.

I don’t want to be collateral damage if someone wants to take you out. No offense. If I had to be someone’s martyr, you’d deserve it, but I still don’t want to do it,”

You know, because I don’t want to get ripped apart by The Centurion.” “Have your limbs rendered,” he corrected. I blinked. He was in pain. In a stranger’s house. Vulnerable as shit.

Something hit him? What in the hell was strong enough to hit him? Where had he been in the first place?

“My back… hurts,” he admitted so, so slowly, those cheeks flexing again. Why was he saying it as if he thought it was my fault?

His eyes opened, and his gaze flicked toward me there on my knees by his feet, his face wiped smooth of any expression, even the grumpy one. Those pale lavender lids fell over those dark purple eyes as he lifted his chin just a little bit and said—sounding… resentful?—“I’m… weak.” It was nothing I hadn’t already figured out, but to hear him actually admit it? I had to leave. I was going to die. Whatever had done that to him was going to find him here. We were dead, or at least I was. I needed to go. Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Stop… panicking…,” The Defender ...

“If someone… comes… I’ll sense it… first…,” he struggled to say.

I wasn’t feeling so optimistic about that, not when he’d been passed the hell out for three days straight.

“I’m always… aware,” he tried to claim. I couldn’t help it, I whispered, “Even when you’re snoring?” The glare I got….

I didn’t believe him, not when he might be the one to wring my neck if I didn’t get him his steak and chicken. I had other people to worry about doing the job too, but he didn’t need to know that.

Catching him wincing, I helped him. His groans and low-key moans filled the room. There was something really wrong, and we both knew it, but he was in denial for whatever reason. I lifted one heavy leg after the other onto the mattress, helping him until he managed to lie flat on his back.

My grandma used to say that I’d been born with a hint of intuition; then my grandpa would claim I’d gotten it from his side. He never really talked about his family, but when he did, he always brought up his own grandmother.

It would have been just one more thing in a system that someone might be able to track, so no passport for me. It was such bullshit.

One dark eyelid peeled back. I looked at him. He looked at me.

Then I gave him another weak smile even as I thought he was way too beautiful to be real, because he really was. I couldn’t get over it. At least I wasn’t stuttering or staring though. I wasn’t gaping at being in his presence. I could be proud of myself later.

But The Defender stared in a way that might have made me nervous if I didn’t know how injured he was. I was pretty sure, at this point, I could push him over and run if it came down to it. Not that I would. Unless it was life or death. Then I’d be seeing his ass later.

“Call me… whatever you want,” he muttered. That was real helpful. And friendly.

Them? The Trinity? “Okay, sure.” But was it them we had to worry about? Why wasn’t he trying to get in contact with them?

I just don’t want there to be any misunderstandings between us,” I straight-up went on. “I don’t want you to haunt me.” He didn’t laugh.

If I had holy water, I would have put some in a spray bottle and squirted him with it, just to see what happened. Was talking to me that much torture?

I was trying my best to take care of him, the ungrateful….

I would have done anything to be normal. For the chance to have an existence that wasn’t built on so many fucking lies, on bone-softening loneliness that I called privacy to keep my sanity. To be able to totally be myself without fear of repercussion. Unfortunately, I had to live with the fact that I wasn’t sure that was ever going to be possible.

Twice, The Defender woke up randomly, always right around the three-day mark. Each time, he stayed up long enough to look pissed, grumble, and eat a meal while glowering at me like I was the reason why he was laid up in my bed. Like I loved sleeping on the lumpy couch and feeling awkward. Then, almost immediately after finishing eating, he fell back asleep.

Oh, someone looked like a ray of fucking sunshine lying there. He was glaring at the ceiling. I think it said everything about what he was, that his eyes and cheeks weren’t puffy and his mouth wasn’t swollen, when I could take a thirty-minute nap and look like I’d gotten stung by wasps.

Everything about him screamed irritation, and he’d been up, what? A minute?

he’d been totally passed out. Or not, according to Mr. I’m Totally Aware At All Times. Bullshit.

“I can set it on your lap if you want, so you can pick something else,” I offered, trying to be hospitable. Those dark purple eyes blinked at me.

He’d graduated from being kind of a pain in the ass to full-on pain in the ass over the last week with that attitude.

Now, I was at the point where there was no pretending he was something he wasn’t. And that was patient, friendly, and easygoing.

Holding the plate in one hand and a glass of water in the other, I made my way back. The same show about kids and scary monsters from another realm was still playing. I’d already watched every episode twice. It was one of my favorites. In a weird way, they reminded me that if—fictional—kids could do the right thing, so could I. So could everyone, if they wanted.

Most people rarely did the right thing.

Spearing a piece, I pinched my lips together as I brought it up to his mouth, thinking about how I’d made choo-choo sounds at him under my breath the day before when I’d fed him because it made me cackle quietly.

I wasn’t surprised when he slept another three days after that lovely interaction. Honestly, it was a blessing.

I’d always thought I was pretty patient, that I was about as understanding as a person could be.

I would have done anything for them, and that’s why I had taken care of them as they’d gotten older.