So hi...
AT ANY HOUR
Courfeyrac sighed as he saw his friend mentally beat himself up. "I tried to stop you."
Grantaire gave him a side on glare. "Try harder next time."
Courfeyrac could've said something witty to reply, but Grantaire was so beaten already he thought it was best not to.
"I'll drive around, see if I can find her."
"No point. I know exactly where she's gone."
"I'm sorry mate." Courfeyrac patted Grantaire on the back. "Go to bed, she'll come home, eventually."
Grantaire saw his friend out of the driveway and waited until the lights of the car disappeared before meandering to bed. He couldn't sleep. He stared at the ceiling with an empty feeling beside him. Damn her!
X
She knocked on the door, hard. She was sure she'd woken everyone else on his floor up, but didn't care. She needed him right now. She continued knocking. The door flung open in her face.
"WHAT?!" His expression softened in seeing her defeated face. "Come on." He ushered her into his flat and locked the door before pulling her into a tight hug.
Without letting go, he asked, "What happened?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She said miserably.
"Anja..." He said softly.
"Grantaire."
He shifted slightly. He pulled out of her embrace and felt her skin. "You, are freezing."
"I'm fine." She shot back.
He stared at her before disappearing into his bedroom and coming out with a dark blue hoodie which she took, no argument, and slipped it onto her smaller self. She stared at the ground. Wow, he thought, whatever went on between them has hit her hard.
Thinking slightly, he gave into his nagging voice and sent a text to Grantaire.
"Can, I stay here tonight?" She asked in a small voice.
He smiled softly at her, running his finger over her cheek. "Of course you can. Stay as long as you want. Take my-"
"I'm fine on the sofa, merci." She cut him off.
He wasn't going to argue, not today. He grabbed her some blankets and a pillow and set the sofa into a nice comfy bed for her. Lastly, as she crawled under the covers, he pulled two stuffed toys that were woodlice from behind his back as he sat by her feet. She laughed slightly.
"This is Tuck and Roll." He introduced them.
"After the woodlice from Bugs Life?" She asked.
"Yep. The very same." He set them down at her feet. "I've had them a long time, and why I was feeling down, they would always be there to cheer me up."
"Thank you." She smiled half heartedly. She appreciated it, but arguing with Grantaire did something to her, she didn't know what though.
He leant forwards and kissed the top of her uncontrollable hair. "Night Anja."
He flicked off the lights and went to his room, hearing, "Night Bahorel," as he shut the door.
X
Bahorel tried his hardest to keep as quiet as possible as he crept through his flat. Anja was on the sofa, tossing and turning, her brow furrowing, looking troubled as she slept. Bahorel didn't know what to do. He was never there when she had her night terrors before. He tried to ignore her slight mumbles as he made himself a coffee but couldn't. She started to move more. Scared that she would hurt herself, he called the one person who seemed to help.
"Do you know what the fucking time is?"
Bahorel chuckled to himself. "Look Grantaire..."
"It's half two!"
"It's Anja!"
The line silenced. "What's wrong?"
"She's having a pretty bad nightmare and I have no idea what I'm meant to do. I need your help." He said quietly.
"Try singing to her." Grantaire suggested, worry not hidden well in his voice.
"I can't do that!"
"You're gonna have to! It works for me."
"Anything else?" Bahorel was so not singing to her.
"Do you have a guitar?"
"A pretty out of tuned and falling apart one, but yeah."
Grantaire sighed down the phone. "Play it."
Bahorel shook his head, temporarily forgetting that Grantaire was two miles down the road and couldn't see him. "R, I can't-"
"I don't care if you can't fucking walk right now Bahorel! Pick up that goddamn guitar and play something calming!"
Bahorel winced. "Alright mate! Calm your tits!"
He put the phone on the coffee table and wondering off to his cupboard. He opened the door cautiously, ready to catch anything that fell from the many shelves and the pile of junk that he had accumulated over the years. Nothing tumbled. Letting out a breath of relief, he quickly spotted the old guitar and pulled the door open further. Then monopoly had to wobble. Bahorel glanced and, his hand darting out, pulling the guitar from its confines behind and old wicker chair and the parasol (for his garden which consisted of a small metre square balcony) and fought the door closed before anything could tumble out. He lent on the door as he felt it give into the mountain of stuff he had in the small cupboard. Experimentally, he started to move away, so his bodyweight was not keeping to door from closing. As he edged away, the handle of the door gave into the increasing weight of the junk and buckled, snapping cleanly off. Bahorel, as someone who always thought quickly, (which is the very same asset that got him a place on the rugby team) grabbed one of the heavy speakers by his tele and jammed it against the door before moving away. Thank The Lord for his ten tonne speakers! (And he never thought he'd think that after having to carry them up four flights of stairs.)
Sighing, Bahorel settled himself on the coffee table by the sofa and took another deep breath. "Damn you lefties." He muttered as he switched the neck of the guitar to his right hand. He closed his eyes, rested his fingers on the frets, and strummed. Badly.
I said play it well, not add to her nightmare!" Grantaire yelled down the phone.
Bahorel carried on still. "It's the guitar! It's out of tune!"
Are you sure it's not the player who's out of tune?"
Bahorel laughed, he could see Grantaire's grinning face from two miles away. "Oh really?"
Grantaire chuckled down the line. "An instrument is only as good as it's player."
Bahorel acted hurt. "Hey!"
Grantaire sighed. "I'm definitely on speaker right?" He didn't wait for an answer, he could hear Anja muttering to herself and turning in her sleep. He wished he was there. "Don't judge me for what I'm going to do..."
Bahorel quickly shoved the charger into his phone and left it on the table. "I'll go back to bed then."
Grantaire waited until he could hear the bedroom door close, and everything had settled down. All he could hear was Anja. And then he sang to her until she calmed. He heard her breath even out and could picture her in her sleep, smiling. And he stayed awake all night long, just to make sure she wasn't troubled by the monsters in her dreams again.
So bye...
Gracee xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx