"I brought soup!" Claire calls, walking into Mineral Blacksmith with a hot container in her hands. There is loud rock music absolutely blaring through a radio that Gray has set up behind his workbench. It feels like the room is shaking. He pulls his welding mask up and waves at her.
"How's your throat?" she asks him, yelling over the loud music. Gray makes a face, motioning his hand in a way that means not so good, but not so bad either.
"I forgot," Claire says. "Today's the glorious day that you're giving your voice a rest." Gray removes his gloves to lower his music, poking her forehead with his middle finger. He's wearing his tan-coloured jumpsuit with his UMA hat pulled in front of his face.
Saibara smiles at Claire from the other side of the room, pulling an earplug out of his ear. "Hi, Claire. Something smells good."
Claire holds up her container triumphantly. "I made chicken noodle soup! There's enough for both of you."
Saibara looks over at Gray doubtfully. "Not with how much my grandson eats." When he turns to unsteadily retrieve two bowls from the cupboard, Gray takes this opportunity to give his grandfather the "up yours" motion with his arm. Claire shakes her head at him.
"You're terrible," she says with a laugh. Claire's hair is big and unruly today, her waves wild and voluminous, probably from sleeping on her wet braids the night before. She looks beautiful, like she's ready for... an 80's party.
No matter how hard he's been trying, he can't stop thinking about her. So he's decided that he has to tell her how he feels today.
No pussy-ing out.
Claire walks over to their tiny kitchen to ladle some of the soup into Saibara's bowl. "I'm eating this over here," he tells the two of them, his body tremouring as he slowly makes his way to his bedroom with his bowl. Claire pours the remainder into a dish for Gray, watching him bring it to the table as he quickly downs it.
"Why are you always hungry?" Claire asks him. He rises to retrieve a black pen and a red notebook from the kitchen drawer.
You make good food, Gray scribbles down on a piece of the lined paper, ripping it from the book to hold it out to her.
"This is literally the messiest handwriting I've ever seen," Claire exclaims, trying to squint at his words. He rips another piece out of paper out, writing more on this one.
Why don't you leave my chickenscratch alone?
She squints again, then snickers. "I'm very sorry," she lies. Gray takes the paper back to write underneath it. He feels his face turning red as he jots down these words, handing it to her as he turns his attention to his almost-empty bowl of soup.
You look nice today ツ
Claire smiles at him. "Thank you. What song were you playing earlier? I feel like I know it."
Gray writes on another scrap, trying to be as neat as possible. You might, it's an old one called "Dammit," by Blink-182.
She leans to read what he's written. Claire grabs the pen, drawing a pathetic little cartoon of the rock and roll hand symbol. Gray snatches it back from her.
Your drawing is shit.
Claire arches her brow at him. "Well, your writing is shit," she remarks. Immediately, her hand clasps over her mouth, eyes widening.
Gray laughs at her. You swore! Stand-up comedy has changed you, Blondie, he marks.
She rolls her eyes and giggles, before dropping her gaze to her lap, cracking her knuckles nervously. Gray swallows, his throat still raw and hurting, writing these next few words.
I have to tell you something.
Claire cranes her neck to read what he's written, lifting her eyes to his. "I have to tell you something too," she reveals, biting her lip.
Gray gestures for her to go first, beginning to apprehensively write what he cannot even bring himself to physically or emotionally say out loud. His fingers are shaking. He stares down at his new blank page, scribbling his feelings down as Claire speaks.
"So you know how, uh, that guy stood me up? Well, he… stopped by my farm, and turns out, he had a really good reason for… um, not showing up that night. So, I guess to make it up to me, he's… he's, um, taking me out again." Gray slowly covers his hand over his paper, looking up at Claire. "No one knows yet, but he's actually the doctor of this town."
No fucking way.
"Are you serious?" Gray's throat pains him even more than it did yesterday, but he doesn't care. He feels an impossible anger boil up inside him. This cannot be happening.
She stares at him, her eyes big. "What?"
"Your date was with the doctor?"
Claire's eyes go big. "Umm-"
"Jesus Christ, do you even know how old the guy is?" He clenches his jaw and stares at her, as if he's trying to make sense of a challenging chemistry imbalance in front of him.
"Trent's twenty-five-"
"You must be joking." Gray rises from his chair in disbelief.
Claire narrows her eyes at him coldly. "I'm a big girl, Gray. I can handle myself-"
"You really can't," Gray snaps, rudely. He feels like he can't even think straight. Trent. Did this motherfucker disrupt his life just to ruin it all over again? Any kind of romantic thought Gray previously had for Claire is being replaced with red-hot rage. "What the hell do you think a twenty-five year old wants from a seventeen-year-old girl?"
Claire chews on her cheek tensely, crossing her arms over her chest. "To be with me?" she answers uncertainly, shifting her eyes to a dusty spot on the floor in front of her.
"Yeah right, Claire. He cares about one thing, and one thing only." Gray rises to toss his bowl in the sink, suddenly not hungry anymore. Is this even allowed? Is this legal? His mind feels like it's racing at a mile a minute. He turns on the tap to rinse the bowl out, his back to her. What does she think that a guy eight years older wants? Claire cannot not be this damn clueless.
"W-what?" Claire manages to stammer out.
Gray whirls around, leaning back on the counter to shake his head at her obliviousness. "He wants young pussy, Claire. What the hell do you think?" He doesn't mean to be so candid and vulgar… but what the hell does she think an older guy wants? To hold her hand and keep everything above the waist?
She glowers at him, her cheeks going red. "Excuse me?"
"You're not stupid. Ask yourself why he doesn't just take a girl out who's his own age."
Claire does not look happy with him. "Maybe he just likes me because he likes me, Gray," she counters, her eyes shooting daggers at him. He really figured that he'd seen her at her angriest, but now, he isn't so sure. She's positively fuming at the moment. "Did that ever cross your thick skull?"
"Don't be mad at me." Gray holds up his hands in defense. They're rough and calloused from the blacksmith work that he's been doing, bleeding in a few of the dry cracks on his fingers. "I'm a guy, I know how we operate."
"So then you think the same as Trent 'supposedly' does?"
Shit. She got him there. "No. I mean, uh, well, I don't." Why does Claire always leave Gray to struggle with his words? "But I know how guys like him are, and-"
"Why don't you save it?" Claire says, turning her body away from him in an attempt to let him know that she doesn't want to hear it. "You clearly don't know Trent at all."
Claire isn't wrong; he doesn't know Trent. He never thought that he'd see him again. He'd only met him a handful of times in the city, back when his mother begged the doctor for some kind of answer regarding her headaches. And when he didn't… fucking listen, Gray decided that it was perfectly acceptable to hate a total stranger; to blame him for his greatest loss.
Despite the fact that people have told his family that misdiagnoses happen all the time, he's fully shifted the culpability of his mother's death on that cocky, young medical professional who did jack shit. Trent could have done more, way more than what he did. He gave up so quickly, and for that, Gray has harboured an unspeakable anger since. Hardy and Elli were the only ones who actually helped to aid his mother, and even the fact that they couldn't save her made him upset.
But he can't even use this as a reason for Claire to stay away from this creep. It's too filled with his own biased bitterness.
"You hardly know him either. And I think that I've gathered enough about him to see that he's an arrogant motherfucker. He's gonna sleep with you, and then leave you." Gray understands enough about this doctor to know that he's a grown-ass adult trying to take out an underage girl. How can Claire be so blind?
His words look like they've affected her profoundly. Claire's expression wilts a bit, but she furrows her brows at him crossly. "Oh wow, thanks. That makes me feel good." Irately, she walks past him to grab her dirty container, reaching over Gray to turn on the sink and wash it out. She glares up at him until he moves out of her way quickly. "Nice to see that even after everything you know about me, you think that I'd do that."
"What?" Gray asks, his heart sinking. He didn't mean to hurt her feelings. He forces himself to change his tone and relax when he's addressing her. "Blondie, no. That wasn't a jab at you. I know that you're a really… um, good girl." He can't even find the right words. His voice is trembling badly, and he's stuttering through his assertive front. Gray clears his head, focusing on his warranted hatred for Dr. Douchefuck. "It's just, you don't understand. Guys like him-"
"Only want one thing?" Claire interrupts, squirting a dab of bright green dish soap into her container. She scrubs at it with her bare hands using a scary amount of force. Gray almost takes a step back from her. "Yeah, I understand. I heard you say that already. And what, girls like me just give it up so easily?" He watches the damage he's done pasted across her side profile. "Screw you, Gray."
"Claire," he says, trying to be the levelled and calm one… for once. Her temper is just as bad as his. Gray actually didn't even mean to be an asshole this time, though. "I wasn't saying that at all. I know that… being a virgin is important to you." He reaches into the sink to graze her hand. She turns her upset eyes to his.
"This isn't about my… hymen," Claire snaps, her tone faltering. She's clearly unsure if she's using that word in the right context.
His face gets hot as he glares at her. "I didn't say that it was," Gray spits back.
"You did!" she argues, throwing her soapy hands up in exasperation. "This is about me not breaking my promise. And besides, I'm sure you've broken… hundreds."
"Of promises?"
"Of… hymens!" she screams, scrunching her freckled nose at him.
Gray reflects back on high school sex-ed. Isn't that a myth? Hymens can't 'break'... don't they stretch out or something? He looks over to see Saibara opening the door to his room, immediately closing it with an unreadable expression after he hears Claire's words.
So much for staying calm.
"I have not," Gray barks, and now he's mad at her all over again. Evidently, he's not the only one who says dumb shit.
"Why don't you just stop passing judgement on Trent?"
"Yeah, like I'm the judgemental one here."
"Oh that's hilarious, Gray. You are so judgemental it isn't even funny."
"Look who's talking, Blondie."
"Why don't you just take my word for it?" she asks, drying her hands on one of the tea towels by the stove. "Why can't you accept that I've found a really sweet, mature guy?"
"Because," Gray answers lamely.
"Because?"
"Because…" Because I love you. Of course Claire would go for the handsome, successful doctor, the moron who didn't know a goddamn diagnosis if it hit him in his pretty boy face. "Because I don't want anything to happen to you. You... you need to be careful," Gray finally finishes, bringing his cap over his face in embarrassment.
"It's a date, Gray. I'll be fine," she says, fatigued and exhausted from their fighting. Claire takes her container, holding it with one hand against her hip. "I'd better get going."
She doesn't even look angry anymore; just tired, and maybe even a little bit confused. Has Gray lost her for good?
Well, she's not mine to lose. Claire doesn't belong to anyone, but has this doctor already won her over? Is Gray too late? Why is it all happening like this so fast?
Every impulse to kiss Claire and tell her that he's in love with her is quickly substituted with an urge to keep her away from the creep that's eight years her senior. She'll realize after getting to know Trent more that their age is way too spread out, and Gray will finally be able to confess his feelings without backing down.
But what does he even have? Doesn't this doctor hold triumph over him in every way possible? Gray is only Claire's friend; her good friend that she must have thought would willingly listen to shit like this. How can he hear about her lovingly defend some other guy, when Gray has completely fallen for her himself?
"I'll see you later," Gray says quietly, a lump of pain forming in his throat. He inwardly grimaces. "Thanks again for the soup."
Claire offers him a sad smile and a wave, exiting Mineral Blacksmith with her head down.
Someone had to be honest with her, right? The way that he sees it, Gray wasn't being a prick at all. Well, maybe a little, but he's only looking out for Claire's wellbeing. He sighs, going in to his room to take another dose of his cough syrup before getting back to work.
Saibara frowns, glancing around the empty room after the pair's yelling match has subsided. He walks over to the kitchen table, the opened red notebook staring back at him. Lifting it curiously to his face, he examines the messy words scribbled out on the paper in black ink.
I think that I'm falling in love with you, Claire.
That's his grandson's calligraphy, no doubt. Saibara gingerly rips the page out, tucking it away in his sweater pocket. He carefully closes the red notebook, placing it back in the kitchen drawer. Gray lumbers out of his room, returning to his workbench, blasting the loud rock music once more.
A/N: I'm not here to hate on age gaps! Like, if Claire was 28 and Trent was 35, cool whatever. But that's not the case. This is just CREEPY. We've got two people at two very different stages in their lives. Teenagers are still learning how to be independent and go about their life, while a person in their mid twenties has already had a foot in figuring it out. Claire's still underage, heck, at seventeen I was just a kid (and VERY naive and didn't always make the best decisions), so she doesn't get that Trent's taking advantage of this. There would also be a power imbalance, no doubt, not to mention the fact that she's clearly easily manipulated by the throes of a first relationship and thinks that she's mature enough to handle what could potentially get thrown at her. Remember when Miley Cyrus was 15 and Jesse McCartney was 21 and they were flirting and her dad told him to stay away... I'll never forget that, man that was fkn weird
Anyway Gray isn't wrong thank you all for coming to his Ted Talk
