The song he wrote was for Grace. Remember he snapped at Carrick saying that he told them that she was fine. Have any of you ever had that feeling that the person you loved was hurt without having to be told? You just had that feeling? That's what Christian had when he wrote this song. That's why he needed to see her, making his nightmare come true.

Ana

I open my eyes, and sit up quickly. Where the fuck am I? Memories oh the day before come flooding back. Christian's damage. His tears. The alcohol. I close my eyes. The begging. I shake my head.

I had to sleep in a different bedroom because just being by Christian's warm body was tempting. He kept running his fingers up my thigh, pulling me closer to him. He would run his hand up my shirt as he whispered in my ear. Begging me over and over again as I laid beside him. So I just ended up leaving after giving him his Tylenol.

I swing my legs over the edge of the bed, sliding down. My pants and bra on the top of the dresser, I walk over and pull them on, slipping the shirt I borrowed from Christian back on. I tuck it into my pants so it won't look like a dress and pull on my shoes.

I open my door and walk over to the next one over. I quietly open it and peek inside. Christian is spread eagle with his mouth slightly open. His face scrunched and he starts swatting something away from his face, and moves his arm above his head, muscles tightening. So damn considerate…

I close the door and walk to the kitchen. Looking around and trying to figure out something for breakfast, but I guess that's no use since everything is damaged. I sigh in annoyance. Looking down at the glass everywhere, I grab the broom. I need to push the glass aside so this dumbass doesn't step on anything.

I walk to the hallway and start sweeping the glass forward and into the living room. This guy knows how to cause great damage. I shiver at the thought. When I finish sweeping up the glass, I pick up the chunks of wood and sweep up the small pieces. I grab the bars that were apart of the glass coffee table and put them with the damaged piano, TV, and couch. Much better. At least the living room looks better.

I call Ihop and order breakfast. Before I go, I walk to the medicine cabinet and grab two Tylenol and a cup. I have to go to the sink in the bathroom sadly. I tiptoed my way in and move quietly past a snoring Christian. Placing the two Tylenol and water on the table, I head out.

Before heading to Ihop, I ran by the house and took a shower. I needed it after the chaos that's been going on. On my way to the restaurant, Kate calls.

"Hello?"

"Hey Ana." Kate's voice is barely a whisper.

"Are you okay?"

"Elliot is so upset Ana. Christian isn't even calling the guys to make sure he's okay. We've all been here trying to take care of the guys." they guys are all together?

"I went to check on him last night." I sigh.

"You did? How is he?" she asks surprised and thankful.

"I found him singing in his studio. I told him about Ray." I whisper.

"Oh Ana." she chokes.

"It's fine. I just had to get him to bed and make sure he wouldn't drink anymore." I mutter, irritated.

"Don't let him drink." she says quickly. "Not even a little. If you can, get rid of all the alcohol."

"Why?"

"He had just gotten out of rehab a year ago, Ana. He had to go in after they found out about their mom the first time." I curse.

"Okay, let me hurry and get back. Take care of the guys."

"I will."

I walk through the foyer and my eyes fall on the picture of their mother again. I shake my head. Why couldn't it be someone like my mother. I lay the bags on the ground by the door, and walk in the room. How the fuck is snoring sexy?

I walk over to him and shake his shoulder. "Christian, wake up." he just keeps snoring. I huff. I shake him harder. "Christian, wake up." I say a bit louder.

He grumbles and grabs a pillow, bringing over his head. Oh hell no. I bring my hand over his ass, and smack down hard. Shit, his ass is hard. He yanks the pillow off, and scans the room. A smirk falls onto his face as his eyes find me.

"Well, if you're into that kind of thing I guess we could work something out." he says in a tired but husky voice. Down girl.

"I got breakfast. Now wake your ass up." I walk away to grab the bags.

I feel him grab my arm and pull me on the bed. My eyes widen as he crawls onto me. I suck in a sharp breath. He rests both elbows on each side of my face, capturing my lips with his. He presses himself against me, causing me to moan. The small smile of his that I feel against my lips is irritating but pushes me more.

He pushes his tongue in between my lips, giving me a simple taste of him. Can morning breath not affect this ass? I grip the sheets beneath me, making sure not to touch him.

Moving his arms from beside me, but keeping his lips against mine, sliding his hands to the back of my knees. He pushes my knees up to the sides of his chest, pressing harder into me. These sheets are done for.

"Please."