Gray & Day
He was still boiling fit to burst by the time Vannah had switched to Day. He didn't bother throwing up his hands for Day, didn't bother telling her not to touch him. He trusted that she was smart enough to catch on, especially with what he's told her. Day was a special person to Gray, the only real adult family he had left.
More his blood than either of his parents, really.
Gray sat down hard, grimacing, and propped himself against the nearest available thing. He didn't know what it was. It fucking hurt, either way.
He patted the space beside him with his right hand. Or rather, he waved vaguely at the ground, almost patting but not quite touching because that hurt, too. If he ever got his hands on that little Italian bitch, he'd strangle the fucking life out of her. And that? That was not a thought he liked having.
"Never thought I'd support violence against women," Gray said, swinging his head to the side to look at Day. "But there's one down the subway I got my eye on, you catch me?"