Chereads / Change For A Twenty? / Chapter 5 - Flowers Die in Even The Prettiest Vases (5)

Chapter 5 - Flowers Die in Even The Prettiest Vases (5)

Derek took a long sigh as he fell back into his couch chair. His eye was notably black and Louis was notably gone. 

He peered at Greyson who was asleep soundly on Derek's couch. Greyson's cheek was bandaged and his eyes were red-ringed. 

Holy shit, Derek thought to himself. Tonight was quite the night… 

When Derek heard Greyson protest touch from outside the door, he ran out there. Derek was a bystander to most things, but physical abuse? Fuck no. 

When he saw Louis forcefully embracing Greyson, he shoved Louis off with ease. Perhaps it was the strength of the moment. 

Greyson shook where he stood, probably disassociating or panicking based on the way he barely noticed Derek. Louis, on the other hand, gained his balance and swung hard. Derek's cheek still hurt from that punch… 

By now, other neighbors realized the severity of Louis's violent breakdown, and helped Derek restrain him. 

The cops were called… Greyson was interviewed… Derek was interviewed… And Louis was taken away in a mutter of drunken curses. Something about not wanting Greyson to leave him. 

Derek looked at his neighbor with pity, probably the whole apartment floor did. Most, as Derek had predicted, brushed off the fights as simple couple drama. But now they saw the whole picture, no thanks to Louis practically screaming at Greyson to not leave him and to not let this happen. 

After all the chaos, Greyson really only seemed embarrassed. He was no longer crying but rather looked numb as his cheeks filled red. He muttered a sorry so quiet Derek had to repeat it for the gathering neighbors. Greyson didn't even protest when Derek led him into Derek's apartment rather than his own. 

And now they were here. 

Derek wondered, while staring down his sleeping neighbor, how anyone would want to scar a face so pretty. Derek would certainly never. Derek also swore he wouldn't be a chronic cheater. Though wasn't that the bare minimum? He hummed. 

He could treat Greyson with the bare minimum and more. Though, was that really up to him?

–+–

"Has he ever laid his hands on you before?" 

"He's drunk. Does he come home drunk regularly?"

"How long has this behavior persisted?" 

Greyson didn't feel like the victim everyone was painting him to be.

One of his neighbors offered him a blanket, some tea, and glances full of pity. He knew he and Louis's relationship issues were broadcasted apartment-wide, but that was just the insults they laid on each other. Now they thought of Greyson as some pathetic abuse victim and Louis some vicious abuser. 

Greyson ran his hand over the bandaid on his cheek. 

He wasn't weak or pathetic. He wasn't someone that could be easily subdued. Hell– He wasn't some twink nor was he some bulky buff man like Derek. Greyson was normal in all elements, as was Louis. He had average height, an average build, average looks. 

He looked at the ceiling of an apartment that wasn't his with a frown. He was in Derek's apartment. He had let Derek lead him into his apartment. 

Sudden clattering from the kitchen made Greyson look that way. 

Derek stood frozen in the kitchen below an open cabinet. An array of bowls and cups were at his feet, the ceramic ones in pieces. Derek noticed Greyson and began to blush in embarrassment. It looked wrong in his buff figure. 

"Are you… Are you okay?" Greyson asked, noticing the cut on Derek's foot. 

Derek nodded, "Yeah, sorry for waking you. I just did double arms yesterday and they're still a little weak." 

Greyson nodded. He approached and began to pick up the non-broken bowls and cups.

Derek took a step back in surprise. "Oh no! I can–" He went to excuse, but hissed as he stepped in yet another piece of ceramic glass. 

Greyson shook his head, "You're hurt. You should sit and let me clean this up, it's the least I could do." He reasoned. 

Derek went to protest, but sighed, the stinging in his foot keeping him from assisting Greyson in his clean. He sat on a dining room chair a few feet away with a pained expression. 

Derek watched Greyson skillfully avoid the broken pieces while picking up the intack ones. Derek silently wondered how many times Greyson had done it before in the hands of Louis. He admired Greyson's features from afar. His flatter nose, his slightly too-long hair, his thinner eyebrows, and his slightly tan skin… Derek was 60% sure Greyson was mixed with some sort of Asian. 

Greyson placed the intack bowls and cups on the nearest counter and turned to Derek as if to ask a question. He caught Derek's intense staring. "Uh…" 

Derek realized he had been caught staring and turned away with a small hint of red on his neck and behind his ears. 

"Do you have a broom?" Greyson asked after a beat of silence. He felt slightly insecure under Derek's scrutiny. 

Derek nodded slowly, "Um. Yeah. Just around the corner of that wall." He immediately internally cursed himself for sounding so awkward. 

Greyson nodded and excited the kitchen to find it. As soon as he was out of Derek's view he took a long deep breath and his ears heated up a little red. 

No way he was staring at me, right? Greyson shook his head. No way…

–+–

The small dining table in Derek's kitchen was covered in various Chinese takeouts. Derek and greyson sat across from each other and Derek had notably more food than Greyson. They were silent as they ate. 

Greyson took a chopstick full of sesame chicken and narrowed his eyes at Derek's large selection of food. 

"I didn't think influencers ever ate unhealthily." Greyson commented. 

Derek hummed, "It's all bullshit. They just pretend to eat healthy 24/7 for a quick buck." 

Greyson chuckled, "Don't you do collaborations a lot?" 

Derek raised an eyebrow, "You watch my videos?" 

Greyson paused. 

"Mm… sometimes…" 

Derek's smile unintentionally grew. "Do you follow me?" Seeing Greyson's slightly embarrassed state, it was addicting. 

"What if I do?" Greyson asked, feeling slightly embarrassed. 

"Thanks for the support." Derek spoke slightly teasingly, gesturing chopsticks Greyson's way. 

Greyson flushed at the teasing tone, "I'll unfollow you." He threatened. 

"Oh no! I'll only have five million left!" Derek joked. 

Greyson only glared. 

There was an awkward silence then. Derek felt a little flustered, had he gone too far? He was one to get caught up in a good mood… 

"So… What are you?" Derek tried to break the silence. 

"...What am I?" Greyson asked. 

"Ethnicity wise… Sorry– I'm just–" Derek realized how poorly his words would have sounded. 

Greyson lightly chuckled, "No it's okay– I'm half Filipino and half whatever white my dad was…" He explained. 

Derek nodded. It was as he expected. 

"You?" Greyson asked. 

"I'm a full-blooded Nigerian." Derek spoke with pride in his voice. 

"Really?" Greyson's interest peaked, "Do you know how to cook?" 

Derek shrugged, "I know a few things…" 

Derek recalled the days of his youth, where his mother would teach him the processes of various soups and rices. It was bittersweet at its finest. 

"We should trade recipes! I know a lot of Filipino ones but I haven't made them in a while…" 

Derek had never seen Greyson so passionate about anything. He nodded. He found it endearing. 

"Why haven't you made them? Filipino food is great…" Derek questioned. He knew Filipino food to be quite tasty…

Greyson paused, a bit of excitement leaving his expression. Derek knew he had slipped on his tongue then… 

"Louis– Uh– He doesn't really like Asian food…" Greyson explained. 

Derek felt immediately guilty. 

"Oh– Sorry…" Derek looked ashamedly away. 

Greyson shook his head, "No, it's okay… It's kinda impossible to tiptoe around him for too long…" 

The mood was notably more depressed. 

"We've been together since our junior year in highschool." Greyson explained, "He… He isn't like that– how you saw him, I think he's sick." 

Derek nodded. 

"You're staying with him?" Derek asked, not shocked or surprised, just curious. 

"Am I crazy for that?" Greyson asked with a small but fake smile. 

Derek thought for a second. 

"No, I don't think you are." And he was honest with his words.