RUNAWAY
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN...!

❝ LOVE , SEASON
SEVEN ❞

WHEN she was little, Jennie Hotchner remembered memorizing every single essay she had ever written.

It wasn't that she exactly needed to— but it served her a great comfort. Sometimes, when nights got rough, and bad dreams kicked in, she'd recite the words in her head. It calmed her; slowed her heavy breathing, until she could finally fall asleep again. It became a form of salvation.

Writing came somewhat easy to her. That is, except one bittersweet topic that Jennie failed miserably to write about.

Love.

She was convinced it was almost impossible to portray correctly when writing.

However, as she stood in front of Grayson, as water dripped from him (due to the vigorous rain that poured outside the apartment complex), she suddenly had a desire to pick up her mechanical pencil, and write a novel on the topic.

"Grayson?"

Her voice echoed through the empty hallway, as she closed her apartment door behind her. Millions of questions overflowed her mind, staring at the man with utter confusion and concern.

"What— what are you doing here?"

He paused for a second. He seemed hesitant to speak, but still managed to keep his eye contact with the girl in front of him.

"You asked me when I snapped."

This man seriously needs to learn about providing context before speaking — is what Jennie wanted to say, his words confusing her. However, seeing his anxious state, his voice slightly shaken, the girl decided against it.

Instead, she furrowed her eyebrows.

". . .What?"

"The day we reunited, at the coffee shop—" He further explained, swallowing harshly due to his anxious state, "You asked me when I snapped, and I told you I hadn't yet. Remember?"

Jennie's remained bemused. She really had no idea where the man was going with his statement, but eventually she nodded, "Yeah. Yeah— I remember."

"And, it's important to do that, right?" Grayson exhaled heavily, trying to gain reassurance, "It's— healthy?"

At that, Jennie sighed, seeing how she still had no idea what this was about, why he was here, and why he wasn't on his flight, "Grayson, what's going on right now?"

Grayson swallowed once again.

"This is it. This is me snapping."

It was a very odd way of snapping, Jennie thought. At his words, her eyes widened slightly. Her confusion never faded — if anything, it increased — but quickly she nodded.

If this was his way of finally coping, she supported it.

Even if it was rather strange.

"Oh, o-okay. Yeah, sure. Hit me with it."

She prepared herself for the man to unravel a series of rants about everything that happened with Grayson and his father.

She prepared for a yell, a cry— an outburst of some sort.

But he just stood there. Looking at her. Silent.

This made Jennie immensely confused.
She was seriously considering the fact that he was high on drugs.

After a while, the silence thick within the air, Jennie cleared her throat, leaning towards the man, her voice low, "What's happening right now?"

"I'm snapping." He repeated, his words speaking louder than his actions, seeing how he still remained quiet after that.

"Okay, see— you're saying that. Which is great, love it, fully support it." Jennie told the man, waving her hands around to emphasize her support, "But, um, I'm not really hearing anything. Like— at all. Just complete silence. I actually think that the rat that lives in the vents up there are louder than you right now."

It was true. The rat was quite loud.

At that, he paused, before a smile broke out on his face, chuckling at the girl's words. He really did favor their jesting conversations over their serious ones. Jennie's heart warmed at the sudden fade of his previously nervous state. Her words had acted as the sun, melting away a portion of his heavy anxiety.

But, despite his smile, Jennie still grew concerned for Grayson, wondering why he was acting so strange.

"Grayson." Jennie spoke softer, after a pause, causing him to look back at her, seeing her eyes full of concern, "What's wrong?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, as a beat of silence filled the air.

And another.

And another.

And then— he snapped.

"I love you."

What.

That was the only thought in Jennie Hotchner's mind at that moment, everything else was blank. 'What'. The son of her step-mother's killer, and daughter of his father's cause of death— standing in front of one another, as one of them confessed their love, while rain water dripped from his clothes.

What.

"I-It's just— I love you. All the time. Every second and every minute of everyday." Grayson admitted, his words almost seeming desperate, now going on a ramble, "Ever since we met, in that library, I just— I've just loved you. And, I've tried to stop. Believe me, after everything that happened, I tried to push it aside. And it's— exhausting. I'm exhausted. But, none of that even matters, because Jennie—"

His eyes never left her as he spoke, before finally he paused, sighing.

"My love for you is exponential, Jennie Hotchner."

Flashbacks back to their first date were quick to flood her mind.

"You remember what I said about the Malthusian Theory?" She asked, looking at him.

"About how the population grows exponentially, and the food grows arithmetically? How could I forget?" Grayson recalled, causing Jennie to let out a short laugh.

"I think my liking towards you is growing exponentially." She told him, after a pause. Jennie was quick to cringe at her words after saying them, face palming herself, "Ew, that sounded way better in my head. Forget I said that."

Jennie honestly didn't know what to say.

Out of all the times Grayson had left her speechless, this definitely won. It stood at the top of the podium. It overpowered anything else he had ever said to her.

Because holy shit— Grayson Foyet loved Jennie Hotchner.

"Okay, Jennie, you're kinda making me nervous here." He let out a nervous chuckle, her silence being deafening, "I mean— you're not saying anything. That's not really a good sign."

Jennie didn't want to stay silent.

But she couldn't speak just yet.

She was born to a woman who despised her for simply existing, and then raised by another woman who had left her twice ( through divorce and through death ). Her life caught in a pit of unfortunate events, constantly condemning every aspect of trust, love, or commitment she had ever felt.

She lived with that condemnation; that fear. It rid heavy in her heart, and ruined the vast majority of relationships she had with people.

She couldn't even hide the fact that she was scared of love anymore.

Because, in that moment, she continued to only stand in front of Grayson. Silent.

"I just, um—" Finally she spoke up, clearing her throat, starting to avoid his awaiting gaze, "I just didn't think you were going to say that. Um— wow."

"Wow. . ?" Grayson repeated, tilting his head, chuckling nervously once again, "Jennie— if I crossed a line, I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

"No— Grayson, you didn't. You aren't. I swear." Jennie was quick to reassure him, "You were snapping. I encouraged you to snap, so—"

When she trailed off, looking down at her hands while not saying anything, Grayson only looked at her expectingly, waiting for her actual response.

"Jennie?" His voice was small, almost cracked.

It wasn't the fact that she didn't love him.

No. Not that. What really crowded her mind was the fact that they had spent almost three years away from each other because she pushed him away. She never checked on him when he went to protective custody. She never asked Garcia if she could find any progress on him. She never did anything.

She just pushed him away.

A part of her wanted to think it's because that's how she dealt with things. When things got tough, she pushed people away. It enabled her to limit the pain she felt when she can leave before they do. Just like her mom did. Just like Elle did. Just like Gideon did. And just like Haley did.

So, no. It wasn't the fact that she didn't love him.

She was worried for him.

"Jennie?" He spoke again, the crack in his voice finally present, making her snap from her daze. At that, she bit the inside of her cheek.

"Grayson—" She spoke softly, gently taking his hands in hers for assurance, "I-I like you. A lot. A little more than a lot. But, our families, our dads, my stepmom— it's all too much. I mean, what would your uncle think about you dating the person who is the daughter of the man who killed his brother?"

"Jennie—" He stepped closer, shaking his head, "This isnt about them. This isn't about what they think. A-And, if you don't want this, that's fine. Just give me the word, and I'll walk out of here."

"No." Jennie shook her head, immediately with no hesitation, her voice no longer as quiet, "I don't— I don't want you to go."

At that, his gaze on her softened. He could tell. He could tell that she was scared.

"We aren't them, Jennie. We aren't our parents." He told her, his voice sure.

"That's the problem, Grayson. I want to be like my dad. I want to be as kind, and as strong as him." She admitted to the boy, "He— he would've never done what I did. He would've never ghosted someone for three years after something they couldn't control. But I did. I did, because I runaway from my problems, instead of being strong enough to fight them. And you deserve better than that."

God, she hated this.

She hated the fact that she couldn't let herself admit that she actually did feel the same way about him. She hated the fact that she was letting her biological mother, Haley's death, and Foyet's killing cloud her mind in a time like this.

She hated being scared of whatever feelings she felt for him.

However, to her surprise, Grayson Foyet's hands squeezed hers. It was reassuring.

"Jennie." He finally let out, after a silence,
"You're the reason that my uncle and I were protected after that situation with my dad. You fought for us to be in protective custody. And now— I'm healing. I'm healing because I had someone to help me, even though she was hurting so badly inside. Even though she had no reason to...You helped me, Jennie."

"Barley." She shook her head, muttering under her breath, as she avoided his gaze, "I could've done so much more."

"You did everything that what I would've done. And more." He told her, "Even on your worst days, you are ten times kinder than anyone I have ever met."

She sighed, squeezing her eyes shut, "Grayson."

"Jennie, if you don't want to say it back, because you don't see this — see us, and our future— our bright future, that's okay." He told her, "But if it's because you're scared. . ."

He trailed off, lowering his head to meet her gaze, as her eyes held low. However, when silence filled, Jennie ended up looking up at the man, awaiting for him to finish his sentence.

"Then let's find out."

Her eyebrows pinched slightly, "Find out what?"

"Which is brighter." He answered, "Our future, or the sun."

Oh my God. He's such a dork.

At his words, Jennie couldn't help but let a smile break on her lips. A genuine smile, which ultimately causing Grayson's expression to brighten.

He loved that smile.

The way her face would heat up, the way she'd look down so he wouldn't see how red her cheeks had gotten, and the way her nose would crinkle slightly whenever she beamed— it all just reminded him how crazy he was about her.

"Grayson." She repeated herself, but this time, a ghost of a smile was placed on her lips. The sight let him know that she did in fact believe in them.

She believed that their future was brighter than the sun.

"Come on." He tilted his head, a small chuckle falling from his lips at the sight of her smile, "Would it really be so bad to give us another shot?"

Another beat of silence filled the air.

Another.

And another.

She had been shackled, a prisoner in her mind; her own life. She had been afraid of anything to do with trust, commitment, love, etc — all because of the people who betrayed her. She learned to accept it — To accept that she would never be capable to feel normal every again.

But, standing in front of Grayson, she felt a sudden urge to break free.

So she let another beat of fill the air. And then—

She kissed him.

Not in a friendly-peck-on-the-cheek type of kiss, but in a way that let him know that she wanted this. She wanted them. She wanted a future brighter than the sun.

She was scared as hell.

But she was willing to try.

As they pulled away, she could feel his heavy breath being brushed onto her face, as they stood in front of each other, with their foreheads touched.

"Please do not tell me you missed your flight for this." She whispered to him, trying to lighten up the solemnity that now stood in the hallways they were standing in.

He chuckled, shaking his head, his nose brushing against hers, "My flight got delayed because of the rain. I took it as a sign from the universe."

Which was true. His flight did actually get delayed. However, he knew that even if it didn't, Grayson Foyet probably would've missed his flight anyway to make sure she knew he loved her.

At his words, she rolled his eyes.

"Dork." She muttered, a smile that couldn't be washed on her face.

Like mentioned earlier in the chapter, Jennie Hotchner used to find writing about love— utterly impossible. Because she believed there was no right way to portray it.

But she was wrong.

The thing about love— theres no way to correctly represent it. It's subjective.

Love to Jennie Hotchner was suffocating, sob-inducing, and caused a lifetime of trust and commitment issues. That, however, was only one side. The side that her biological mother and the death of Haley brought upon her. On the flip side — love was heartwarming, sweet, and really amazing. It's what gave her every good thing she had in her life. Her family, the team, Grayson.

In all aspects, love was a big risk.

After pulling away from their second kiss, there was another beat of silence, as Jennie looked up at the boy.

She wanted to take the risk.

"I love you, Grayson Foyet."

—

AUTHOR'S NOTE |

EW LOVE IS SO GROSS 🤢🤢 (i'm so single pls help me)

OKAY TYSM FOR READING BYE FOR NOW!!! && happy eid to those who celebrate!!! <33

word count.
2665.