Chapter 153 Drunk and Rambling
Quinn's POV
I won't tell Dylan that Mum is fine. Not yet.
Even though I really want Dylan to know that our mother is okay. But if he finds out now, Dylan might leave here and go looking for her.
Because, honestly, Dylan is more emotional than I am. Dylan rarely speaks, but he is actually a deep thinker. So he thinks about everything, including the reason our mother left us.
So if Dylan finds out, I'm sure he will look for our mother until he finds her and ask her to explain everything and not leave again.
I'm actually very sad seeing Dylan right now. My heart aches. Especially when he smiles, it feels like a knife is piercing my heart. Because of all the people who know about our mother, Dylan has to be the one who doesn't know.
Oh, I feel like I want to cry right now. I can't bear to look at Dylan's face right now.
"Quinn, why are you just standing there? Come in."
I blinked a few times. I glanced up briefly and then smiled. "I'm just watching you walking around without a wheelchair. It feels like I never expected this day to come."
Dylan pursed his lips. "I didn't expect this to happen either. All this is thanks to your support. I was able to regain my enthusiasm and tadaaa, I can walk normally again like before."
I immediately took off my bag and ran to hug Dylan. I hugged him and imagined he was my little brother who I used to hug when he couldn't sleep. And now, my little brother has grown up and is even taller than me.
"I'm so proud of you, Dylan. Keep being the Dylan you are now. The cheerful Dylan, who always wants to try new things, and who always loves me and never leaves me."
"Yes, I promise. But can you please step aside for a moment? I feel suffocated now if you forget that your strength is different now."
I chuckled and let go of my hug. "Sorry, sorry. I didn't realise."
Dylan rolled his eyes and then fed me some cookies that I guessed were the result of his experiment. “How tasty is it?”
“Very tasty,” I praised. I wasn’t lying. Dylan did have a talent for cooking, unlike me.
“Okay, then I’ll give some to Grayson too. Don’t forget to tell him, okay?”
Hearing Grayson's name mentioned, I stopped chewing.
"By the way, where are you coming from? It's not like you to go out this late."
"It's not like you to cook this late either."
Dylan put his hands on his hips. "Quinn, answer me."
I sighed. "I went to celebrate Ema's restaurant's success. She treated me and Anton."
"But why did you leave secretly?"
"Because I didn't want to make you jealous." I stuck out my tongue. "You might’ve been jealous if I had told you that we were partying and having fun there."
“And if Grayson finds out, you’re done for!” Dylan pointed his spatula at me.
Once again, when that name was mentioned, I stopped what I was doing abruptly.
My mother's explanation still echoed in my ears. And now I wondered whether Grayson actually knew about this or not.
I really wanted to know whether Grayson knew about his father's feelings for my mother or not. I wanted to know whether he actually knew and kept it to himself or whether he really didn't know anything.
Knowing this, I could conclude what Grayson was really like.
"Look, you're daydreaming again. What's wrong?"
I removed Dylan's hand from my face. "I just remembered the taste of your homemade cookies. So I'm trying to remember where I ate them."
But in reality, I was trying to quiet my very noisy mind. I was also fighting with myself to keep what my mother had said to myself.
"Oh, I thought you were deep in thought."
Just as Dylan closed his lips, the door suddenly opened.
Grayson appeared in a very messy state. His clothes were stained with blood and alcohol, his eyes were dull, he was staggering, his hair was messy, and there was a strong smell of alcohol on his breath.
I even covered my nose because the smell was so strong. But I did that while approaching him.
“Where the hell are you from? Who’s blood is it?”
I carried him to the sofa while grumbling. How could I not? This was the first time I had seen him drunk. I had never known that he drank alcohol before.
"How many bottles did you drink to end up like this?" I raised my voice and laid Grayson down on the sofa.
"Oh my gosh, he's really bad," said Dylan. He even shook his head.
It was indeed the first time we had seen Grayson like this.
Annoyed at not getting an answer, I nudged his leg with mine. "What about your promise not to touch cigarettes and alcohol? Then what is this?"
Grayson didn't answer me, he just stretched his body with a worried look on his face.
"I'm disappointed in you, Gray Bear. Don't you care about yourself and your career? You said you wanted a long career by avoiding those two things. So what made you become like this? Because of the gossip Hanz made up about us?"
Grayson suddenly grabbed my hand. He then pulled me until I fell on top of him. He then hugged me tightly. "You're not going anywhere."
I pushed his face away from me. "You smell like alcohol. Go take a shower and then talk to me again."
Grayson shook his head. "I'm not going anywhere. I don't want you to leave."
I sighed heavily. "I'm not going anywhere! I'm here. But if you keep this up, then I'll leave and sleep in Dylan's room."
"Don't do that. You have to always be by my side," Grayson replied in a slurred voice.
"Looks like he needs your help to bathe him," said Dylan.
I glared sharply, alternately at Dylan and Grayson.
In the end, I decided to slap Grayson's cheek. Gently, of course, not roughly.
"This is the last time I'll warn you, Gray Bear. If you don't listen to me—"
"If I listen to you, will you not leave? Will you believe me and not believe everything Hanz says?" Grayson's voice rose. His veins were visible.
That made me pull away from him forcefully. I then pulled Dylan closer to me.
I saw Grayson with a doubtful look. "What exactly happened to you? What did you talk about with Hanz? So the blood belongs to Hanz?”
Grayson's eyes finally widened. "Are you gonna run away to him and leave me after finding out that I'm not a good man?"