Addicted to Love

"Grace. Grace? Grace, snap out of it." Grace was startled by her co-worker, Maggie, snapping in front of her face. She couldn't stop herself from letting out a yawn before she rubbed at her eyes. It was fair to say that she hadn't had a good night's sleep in awhile.

"I say this with the best intentions, but you don't look good," Maggie noted softly. Her words caused Grace to wince. She didn't want to appear weak. She didn't want anyone to know that she was in pain. It was her proposed defense mechanism, but it was failing her miserably.

Grace nodded knowingly, bringing her cup of iced coffee to her lips. The cold liquid slid fluidly down her throat, exciting her taste buds with vanilla. She played with the Claddagh ring on her left ring finger. Every time she put it on in the morning she debated whether she wanted the ring to face inward or out.

"It's been a hard week for me," She said simply. She didn't want to go into more detail than that; any more detail and there would be waterworks, guaranteed.

Maggie sent Grace a concerned look. They had known each other since they both started working at the high school as teachers the same year. They bonded over their first-year teacher troubles and grew into close friends. They usually spent this break together reading trashy gossip magazines and sharing snacks, but today was different. "Do you want to talk about it?" Maggie asked.

Grace's eyes lifted to meet Maggie's. She felt a pang in her heart when she saw Maggie's big brown eyes filled with concern. As much as it hurt to talk about it, she owed it to her to explain. Grace took a deep breath before she started.

"I...I keep having the same nightmare over and over again," She said. "I'm with my parents on the way home from my annual birthday lunch, and suddenly a white cargo van t-bones us and I'm the only one who survives." The tears began to stream down her face, but she kept going. "And afterwards I'm with my boyfriend, and I want to know if he loves me. He can't say it. He doesn't love me. And every time..." She paused, unable to stop her crying. She swallowed, a large lump in her throat from her best efforts to avoid crying. "Every time I wake up and it's not a nightmare. It's real."

Maggie scooted closer to Grace in her chair, and hugged her tightly. Grace rested her head on Maggie's shoulder, trying her best to control her breathing and wipe her endless flow of tears. She wiped at her eyes, opening them and looking at her surroundings. Her eyes wandered to the glossy copy of OK! Magazine sitting on the table. A small picture on the side caught her attention and her eyes widened in shock. X-Men Romance: Michael and Zoë!, read the caption. Grace felt sick to her stomach. She immediately stopped crying and grabbed at the magazine angrily. She flipped through it heatedly until she found the pictures. She gritted her teeth, seeing her boyfriend holding hands with that slut.

She didn't know what to think. She felt completely incapable of thinking. Her boyfriend had moved on in a matter of days, after spending a lousy year with her. She felt worthless. She just needed to go home and cry and eat ice cream and watch movies that didn't have Michael Fassbender in them.

"I'll tell you what," Maggie said, reading her mind. "I have Tangled here on DVD. You only have one class left, period eight?"

Grace nodded, unclenching her fists as she had only just then realized they were losing circulation. "Yeah."

"I'll cover for you. Now please, go home. You deserve it, and you definitely need it."

Grace smiled graciously at her co-worker. "I owe you so badly."

__

Grace's iPod was on full blast playing Amy Winehouse's "Back To Black". She walked into her apartment with a paper bag full of anything she'd need for that night - a liter of Diet Coke, Reese's peanut butter cups, sour gummy worms, chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, 10 Things I Hate About You, Confessions of a Shopaholic, and Breakfast at Tiffany's.

She would've collapsed and began her self-hatred fest, but she noticed a vase of flowers sitting on her kitchen table. She slowly approached them, wondering how they even got there in the first place. She swiped the card from them, read the three words and the name of the sender, and immediately ripped the card into a million tiny pieces. She grabbed the flowers and threw them into the sink, causing the vase to break and the water to splash everywhere. She didn't care. She had had enough.

The flowers were from Zoë Kravitz, and her message? "I won, bitch."

She took her cell phone out from her pocket, going through her contacts. She really didn't know who to talk to, but she knew that she needed to talk to someone. She stood there, holding the phone absentmindedly. It began to vibrate in her hands and she picked up the call without thinking.

"Hello?"

"Grace! Please don't hang up."

"What the fuck do you want, Michael?"

"I just want to talk to you."

"Gee, what's there to talk about? How much of an insensitive asshole you've turned out to be in a matter of one week? How much I'd like to never see your face again?"

The anger Grace spewed at him was her defense against getting pulled in again. Deep down she wanted to hear him out, but he had just done too much damage for that to be a sensible thing to do.

"There's so much I need to say to you, Grace. I just can't do it over the phone. Is there any possibility you'd let me come over? Please, I'm begging you."

Grace fell silent. Michael Fassbender had been through a lot with her. He had just begun dating her around the time her parents died. She told him after it happened that she wouldn't be a functional human being for a good amount of time and gave him an easy out, but he stayed by her side through it all. He helped her through the self-loathing, the depression - all of it. He had never had to juggle a relationship and a serious acting career before, but he wanted to do it for her. He had been a damn good boyfriend, even with all of her quirks. He educated himself on introverts, he endured her godawful sister, he never pushed her into doing anything. Sometimes she was fairly certain he was a guardian angel her parents had sent her.

"Okay," She said softly. She hung up the phone, blinking away the tears. She was startled by the knock at the door. She almost wanted to smile, knowing full well who was behind the door. She opened the door and saw Michael standing there, completely vulnerable.

They both reached for each other on impulse. It was the distance they had felt; not the actual distance between them, because they had been quite far away from each other and still felt incredibly connected, but rather the time they had spent on bad terms. The two had never felt so safe in someone's arms, and in that moment they knew that they had both made a terrible mistake. Grace looked up into Michael's eyes and knew that they were on the same page.

"Come in," She said, letting go of him and closing the door. They found their way to couch, and Grace looked at Michael expectantly.

"Let me just start by telling you how sorry I am. I'm sorry for not being able to tell you the truth, for putting you through all this emotional distress, for anything you might've seen that Zoë made up, I'm sorry for all of it. It's a very serious thing, what we're fighting about...or rather you're fighting me. I'm also fighting myself," He began to ramble. "But the thing is I should've told you when I knew. I should've thought about you, too. I can't imagine what has been going through your mind. I can't bear to think about how I've been stringing you along. You must've been so afraid that I didn't love you." He paused to really look at Grace, trying to get a sense of what she was feeling. He hadn't said enough yet.

He took a deep breath. "But Grace, I am in love with you."

Grace's eyes began to well up with tears. She bit her lip, wishing she could make it stop. It just happened, though. She had already cried twice that day, so it was easier than normal. Michael reached for her as a reflex. She allowed him to take her into his arms, situating her so that he was able to hold her in a comfortable position but still talk to her. "I love you so much," He whispered. He kissed her forehead gently. Relief washed over her and she smiled. She broke free of his grip, pulling him on top of her and meeting him at the lips. She felt his lips curl into a smile before he pulled away. He kissed her tear-stained cheeks before situating her on the couch.

His palms grew sweaty the same way they had before when he couldn't tell her that he loved her. He wouldn't let this feeling get the best of him again. He knew what he had to do. He situated Grace on the couch so that she was sitting up, smirking when he saw that she was grinning uncontrollably. "Michael, what are you doing?"

He reached into his pocket, gripping the box to make sure it was still there but not daring to take it out yet. "When I came back into town for your birthday, I bought you a present. I never got a chance to give it to you, but then I decided I wanted to exchange it for something that has a slightly different meaning."

He smiled, taking her hands in his and kissing them gingerly. He kneeled down on the floor, reaching into his pocket and finally taking the box out. Grace let out a gasp, her hand flying to cover her mouth in shock. His smile grew wider to reveal his perfect teeth. He opened the box to reveal a beautiful, three stone engagement ring from Tiffany's. "Grace Bauer, you are the love of my life. When I think of my future, I can't imagine it without you. Would you do me the highest honor by becoming my wife?"

Michael grew nervous when she didn't say anything. "Michael..." She started. He held his breath and prepared himself for the worst. He knew it was soon. He knew it was a gamble. "Will you pinch me?"

"What?" He asked, letting out a chuckle.

"Pinch me. Please. Because there is no way this is real." She reiterated.

He laughed softly. "Darling," He paused, bringing his warm palm to Grace's face, stroking her cheek softly. "Marry me."

She bit her lip and her brown eyes glowed with excitement. "Yes! Yes, baby, I'll marry you."

"Now I'm the one that's dreaming," He said, slipping the ring on her finger. She grabbed his face with her hands and kissed him roughly. Once she pulled away, she rested her forehead against his. "I love you," She said.

"My dearest fiancée, I love you too." He grinned, picked her up bridal-style and beginning to whisk her away to their bedroom.

"Wait!" Grace exclaimed, startling Michael. He looked down at her with concern.

"Do you realize now I have to plan a wedding?" She said incredulously.

Michael chuckled, continuing his path to the bedroom. "I promise I'll help you, but let's not worry about that right now," He assured her, entering their bedroom and kicking the door closed behind him.