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Life was settling back into a regular pace. Grayson was on his bed, pillows stacked up behind him, feet propped up against his wall as he balanced his diary on his lap and jotted down what came to mind. He'd already spent several pages mourning the loss of half of his possessions, which his little brother had embarrassedly confessed to smashing when he thought Grayson died. It was a little disappointing, especially since the majority of the things lost were equipment for fire spinning, but he would live.

After all, there were worse things.

He chewed on the end of his pen, eyes scanning the page a little listlessly, when there was a knocking at his window. Grayson glanced over, half-expecting a bird, and looked away. He had to do a double take when he realized that it was definitely not a bird. Not unless there was some new species of bird that looked like Topher.

He sat up, expression not nearly as surprised as it should have been, and tossed his diary behind him. He didn't bother getting out of bed, however - that was so much effort - because Topher proceeded to open the window and let himself, and the breeze, right in.

There was a moment of silence that managed to not be awkward, after which Gray said pleasantly, "Hello, Topher. What can I do for you?"

It was a lazy day, but for Grayson, lazy days were the majority. He was pleased too see Topher, anyhow; it was getting a little suffocating staying at home, but when he left, things seemed to happen. Things like Jude getting drunk and trying to fight half of Destiny City -- needless to say, things Grayson was better off avoiding. Topher was a welcome distraction, as he always was.

So, Gray sat up fully, scooted over, and patted his bed. It wasn't uncommon for Topher to bound over and seat himself comfortably, and the two of them (though mostly Topher) to chatter about everything and nothing to pass the time. It sure beat being alone, right? And Tristan was out. Really, it was perfect timing.

Topher would distract him from worrying about the others. Though, that wasn't fair. Topher wasn't just a distraction. He was a friend, one that Grayson considered more precious than most others; someone he could relate to as a human. He was second to Virgo, really. Second only to Elke.

"I know how you feel. My parents are so happy I'm home..." He lifted his shoulders, smile relaxed and a little bit exasperated. "Tristan too. It's kind of overwhelming, isn't it?"

Topher was right - it felt good to do something normal, but it also felt a little off. Everything felt a little off, really. He supposed that came from being dead for a year, and he really couldn't expect things to fall back into place, all things considered. Still, he kind of wished they would. He kind of wished everything would just settle back to where it had been, and he wouldn't be stuck wondering what was changing, and how fast.

He felt like time had begun to rush past, and he couldn't catch ahold of it no matter how hard he tried. He didn't like the feeling.

Worse than that, though, was the look on Topher's face. Topher, his friend and comrade, his companion in their Zodiac team, the boy who would climb through his window just to talk. He never wanted to see the light leave his face, hated when Topher frowned; a smile suited him much better. It was just wrong, and he'd had enough of things that weren't right.

So, he slung his arm around Topher's shoulders, drawing the other boy close and propping their temples together. Though they were both facing forward, unable to see one another, Grayson smiled. It was a small smile, but it was a smile nonetheless.

"It's just going to take some time, Topher. We'll get there." There was an easy cadence to his voice, a simple faith behind his words that said he believed it. "There's a calm before a storm, and then there's a stunned silence after a devastation. We just need to pick up the pieces and rebuild, that's all."

He rubbed Topher's shoulder, voice lightening. "And you know, you can use the front door any time, Topher. My parents like you."

Still, he was always amused by Topher's choice for entrance. It was just so... Topher.

Topher's spirits seemed to be lifting, and Grayson was thankful for it. Despite the turbulence of recent events, it was nice and peaceful to sit on the bed with Topher, nothing pressing to do, nothing really to occupy them except conversation. It lent him a peace he'd missed sorely, and he was content to simply relax and enjoy the moment.

The fact that the moment involved Topher talking, and talking, and talking didn't bother Grayson. It never had, mostly because he liked the way Topher bounced the conversation along, the way he seamlessly kept it flowing even while Gray only murmured or nodded. Perhaps it was the most supreme form of laziness, but he appreciated it, and he was fond of his friend for it. Things were always so easy with Topher.

"We'll do the best we can, like we always do." He gave Topher one more shoulder rub and then flopped over, his body bouncing once as he settled on the pillows.

From his new vantage point amidst a pile of pillows, Grayson blinked, looking truly confused for a moment. "I was just writing in my diary." He was eighteen years old and he admitted he wrote in a diary. "It's all right. I was done anyway."

Arguably, if he hadn't been, he would have sat there and continued to write it in while Topher chattered. Such a thing had happened before; it wasn't a slight. He just simply liked to finish what he was doing before he moved onto the next thing.

Grayson didn't like to multitask.

Grayson was used to being teased about his diary; he got it at least once a week from Tristan, so he was mostly immune to it. He didn't even call it a diary, as his brother had suggested once in exasperation, because it wasn't a journal. He'd thought of it as his diary since he was a little boy, needing somewhere to put his feelings when he was teased at school, and it would always be his diary.

So, he didn't mind saying, "I write about all kinds of things. Things that are bothering me, things that aren't. It helps me keep my head straight."

His lips twitched at Topher's questions, and he added honestly, "Sometimes I write about people I like. But, there's less of that, and more things that frustrate me. I figure if I get them into the diary I can think them through better, keep myself from losing my temper."

Grayson? Lose his temper? It seemed more likely that the sun would stop rising. He hadn't ever lost it in front of one of the Zodiacs, and he didn't plan to.

No, they all knew very well that Grayson was the quiet one of the men, the steady one, the one who tried to keep his cool no matter what under pressure. They just didn't know that, nine times out of ten, he was absolutely a mess inside and just doing his best to give the impression otherwise.