Work Text:
Grayson Hawthorne always considered himself a determined individual. Part of growing up in Hawthorne House, with the brothers he did, with the grandfather he had, with the money and time and talents he inherited; all that mixed together and turned Grayson into the person he was.. He was focused, determined to make the world better and help those less fortunate through his foundations, through working hard to put his grandfather’s money to good use.
And then the girl he loved died, on his brother’s watch. The same girl who had loved both him and his brother. Who was determined, just like him. But she was determined to live , to make the world a brighter place for him (and only him, he had thought. He was wrong about that).
Grayson cried, yes. But he didn’t stop. He couldn’t, because that meant facing everything that Emily had done, everything she had meant to him. Everything he couldn’t have, would forever want. Would never find with anyone else, he was sure of it.
Sometimes Grayson felt like he understood Jameson just a bit better, in the year after her. The constant movement was a good distraction from it all. Not that he had to be physically moving, like Jamie; Grayson kept his mind occupied with lists, accounts, numbers, and plans for the future. And if that didn’t work, the physical movement of swimming endlessly numbed his brain enough for it to work almost as well.
Grayson mourned in his own way, but it wasn’t truly mourning. It was pushing away, slapping a too-small patch over the gaping hole in his heart and calling it good. Because he could do this alone, and just not think of her, and change the world.
And then his grandfather died, and Avery Grambs invaded his house, and he was (basically) disinherited, and suddenly, Grayson wasn’t just determined to change the world. He was determined to get this girl out of the way of what was rightfully his.
Avery had other plans.
She came to win (even if she wasn’t entirely prepared for all that winning entailed) and Grayson found himself entranced by her spirit. She was like him, in a way. Utterly focused, unwilling to surrender, looking for clues and secrets and holding her tongue about it all.
As he watched her over the first few weeks, he tried to keep his interactions with her short and snappy. Maybe a brusque tone and clear disdain would keep her away. But she persisted, and snapped back, and found clues he had missed (with his brother, to his annoyance).
Avery was everywhere, it seemed, and her similarities to him became more and more noticeable. He found himself comparing their smirks, wondering which of them would be the quickest to solve the next riddle, hoping against hope that she would turn to him for the barest hint of clue or with a wide grin when she’d solved it.
And Grayson found himself realizing how much life he had missed in the last year. How he had shoved himself into a dark corner of his brain, not letting anything remotely close to sunshine in. Avery Grambs brought color back to his dark world; she let the sun in, gave him a challenge and a rush he had never felt before. She pulled him out, little by little, from the shadow of his grief that he hadn’t even realized was holding him back.
So much light and warmth rushed through his bones now that he could hardly remember how much he had ached for it before. How much he didn’t know he needed it, needed the life that Avery now gave him, full to the brim with puzzles to solve and joy to be found.
Avery made him excited about life again in a way he had never thought could be possible. And she seemed to notice it too. Her looks became longer, her smirks more obvious, her teasing less pointed, her interest in the foundations and money movements more real.
He watched her lips more often, too. Not that it was important. He didn’t want to get caught staring, but he found himself unable to stop. And it didn’t matter.
Until she started staring right back.
Avery Grambs is not one to back down from a challenge, and it quickly became a battle between them. A silent war—who would break first? Who would surrender to this growing tension between them, and who had more self-control? Which of them would allow this new dynamic to come into fruition? Who could give the most teasing stares, the most quips, move the closest into the other’s personal space, and not break?
Resistance was futile, in the end. Not that Grayson truly felt like he lost anything. Instead, he gained a partner. An equal. Someone who loved him with a passion he could only hope to replicate and reciprocate. She’s a bit like Jameson in that way, he supposed. All fire and brashness. But that’s good. It brought something new to the table, and helped Grayson continue to find the light in life.
He was happy, for the first time in who knew how long. Content in some ways (with his success, with his money, with sharing the House), but also insatiable in others (learning new skills and then teaching them to Avery became his preferred pastime). Never stopping, never forgetting, but never letting his past hold him back either. Together, he and Avery started more projects, truly making a difference in the world. (Avery’s favorite was a puzzle contest held nationwide. His was a photography studio for low-income people to get professional headshots). They laughed and talked and kissed and were caught kissing by the paparazzi on more than one occasion. Teasing their respective siblings became a joint effort, though solving riddles never did. His smiles came easier, and their competitive spirits kept him looking for more out of life.
Grayson Hawthorne was surrounded by sun once more, and he reminded Avery of how she brought light back to him every single day.