Close Your Eyes & You'll Burst into Flames

Grace was the opposite of what she was, but under some funny and unfortunate moon, also happened to be the name her parents chose for her. But it was alright, he never seemed to mind the unrefined way she sat while watching television, or the fact that she was happiest wrapped in a bedsheet rather than clothes. Listening whenever she pleaded to be heard, giving her all the time in the world; a nod, a smile, whatever she needed. She was so persistent about long walks together and meaningful conversations and all of the things she wished she could watch herself do, when in harsh reality all they ever did was talk about such instances. She was the windowpane, he was the fly, and they each took turns at being the sun and then, of course, the moon. And when all the dust had settled and they had each quieted down in their respective manners, he kissed her on the forehead and told her it was all going to be alright. She didn't need to be impressive or make anybody laugh, she shouldn't worry about tomorrow or the past events of that day, keeping up with whoever the neighbors happened to be just wasn't in the cards for them. All you need is us, he reassured her. So she believed him. And so she fell asleep. He thought she looked incredibly graceful in this state.