ONCE AGAIN, Grayson had fled. A recurring habit of his, when things don't go right and he can't can handle his own reality, when thing s get rough, he's only escape is to runaway. As if that would do him any good. Emily stayed seated, never bothering to turn around to see his fleeting moment of raged runaway.
"Are you happy?" She mumbled to the approaching footsteps that lingered behind her. She knew he could hear her, just as clear as day. "There I told him." She says again.
His footsteps have the wet sound of someone on grass; someone who has not learnt to walk quietly and instead relies on the verges to muffle their steps. Each footfall is chaotically spaced from the last, no rhythm at all. "Are you happy now." She says, anger dripping off her tone.
