Description
Chapter VI - Gratitude
(A/N)
Hello there, everyone! How's it going?! Long time no see, right?! (Hey! Why are you looking at me?! It's not like it's my fault!)
Alright, I know that I am very terrible and... just awful! And I honestly feel very VERY guilty for going absolutely MIA. I hope this cute little chapter would compensate for it. (I know it won't but I'll still be clinging to the tiniest ray of hope.)
Well, the truth is... I was about to give up on this story. Regardless of how much I love Vincent and the great character that he is, I just couldn't continue the story. The main ideas and scenarios were already there in my head, but I had no idea of how to stitch them together, molding them into a whole, complete body for the story. However, a very good friend of mine, @UniverseQueen, offered me her help. Really, she is so talented at combining the thoughts together and creating new ideas that would bring the story to life. She has encouraged me to keep on writing more chapters for Vincent's story, giving me the needed push to finally do it.
So I would like to thank you @UniverseQueen for being such a great source of encouragement and for giving me a helping hand. And I'll dedicate this chapter to you.
I strongly recommend that you re-read the previous chapters, you know... 'cause it's been a while.
Without further ado... I present to you the sixth chapter of this series. (The following chapter will hopefully be submitted soon.)
I hope you enjoy the read!
********
I was walking in a deserted plain, a parched land that looked oddly familiar to me. I assumed it was the wasteland not too far from Midgar City. The dirt under my feet didn’t feel too dry, for it had been saturated due to the downpour from last night. The sky was thick with clouds, but it didn’t seem like it was going to rain any time soon. It was almost always like this here – gloomy, with the occasional visits of sunrays. But I’m not one to complain: I liked it that way.
It was silent, my steps being the only factor to disrupt the quietude of this uninhabited place. However, I wasn’t the only one passing across the sands of this wasteland, I was aware somehow. I could faintly feel the weight that I had been hauling on my back, and I instantly knew who was held close against my back and had her arms around my neck. She rested her chin on my shoulder and leaned her cold cheek against my ear. I could hear her breathing quietly, her breaths almost matching my footsteps. After some time had passed, she tilted her head, and I could feel her eyes gazing at the profile of my face. A faint smile drew itself on my lips: “What is it?” I asked quietly.
She shook her head: “Nothing.” She said, and I could perceive the sound of a smile in her soft voice. Her next move was smooth and quick, but it was sufficient to put me in a state of utter surprise. She leaned in and planted a shy kiss on my cheek, but she was quick to draw back and place her chin back over my shoulder blade. Shocked, I couldn’t speak for a minute, but I wasn’t able to stay quiet without voicing my question: “What was that about?”
I could sense her smiling, her cheek pressing to the side of my face, cold against my skin yet still had the warmth of a blush. “It’s a thank you.” She replied.
“A ‘thank you’?” I repeated.
“Yes. That’s how close friends express their gratitude.”
“Close friends?”
“Mhm.” She hummed. “We’re friends, aren’t we?”
I chuckled lowly then nodded, “Friends.” I closed my eyes, knowing all too well that this was only a dream. The whole thing was just so – a dream, and nothing more. _______ wouldn’t consider me a friend, let alone a close one. She’s a gentle human, while I’m simply a… a monster. I’m no one’s friend. Not that it bothered me. I had grown used to this fact. I was thankful however to whatever had caused this good dream to visit me in my sleep, something that rarely occurred. That was actually a good thing, in contrast with the numerous nights where nightmares and monsters haunted me in my state of slumber. I wanted this peaceful dream to stay clear from any negative thoughts that constantly infiltrate my mind only to disturb it, so I decided to end it there, though I honestly wished it could last for a minute longer. I had to force myself out of my unconscious state.
I cracked my eyes open and, thankfully, they responded to me despite the tiredness that was quick to announce its authority over my body. My eyelids fluttered as my pupils adjusted to the ambient light that shone weakly through the nearby window. It took only a moment for my vision to clear up. Just then my eyes grew wider at the sight before them. Her sleeping face… that’s the first thing that greeted my vision. Instantly, my breath seemed to freeze in my lungs. Her face was so close to mine that nothing else could tear my attention away from the peaceful features of her visage. I don’t exactly remember how I got here, sitting on the floor while leaning my side against the couch, but I somehow managed to pillow my head on the soft fabric of the couch with my forehead touching her own. Only then I recalled staying by her side upon her request, but when did I… how did I end up… like this? I could hear her soft breathing and feel the gentle movements of her body with every breath she took.
There she was – lying on the couch, completely oblivious to the world around her, while I sat there, dumbfounded, staring at her like the creep that I am. Shocked by the sudden realization, I jolted away from her and leaned back with my palms flat on the floor. My eyes however did not avert their sight from her face. I was grateful that my sudden movement didn’t awaken her from her deep sleep. ‘I was so close… too close.’ I chastised myself.
Supporting my upper body on a single arm, I brought my other hand up and slid it down my face. ‘What am I doing? I need to keep my distance.’ I thought to myself, letting my hand fall to my lap. Then it hit me: the dream I had just had… it wasn’t a dream… well, not entirely, that is… some of it wasn’t. It was more of a memory. “…Because you’re my friend,” I remembered her saying. She didn’t have a problem considering me a friend… so why did I? Why did it seem so impossible to me?
I gazed deeper into the peaceful expression on her face and I didn’t notice the small smile that had snuck its way over my lips. I inched closer to her, only slightly, and reached with my right hand to move back a few strands of hair that had fallen over the scratches imprinted on her angelic face. I hesitated a little when my fingers skimmed gently across her skin, but I actually surprised myself when I didn’t back away at the brief contact. I brushed her hair back ever so softly then withdrew my hand, all the while keeping my eyes trained on her face.
She shifted in her sleep, just a little, which was enough to cause me to hold in my breath and for my heart to skip a beat, but she didn’t wake up. I let out a relieved sigh, for I didn’t want her to wake up to me watching her like this. I smiled again… I had smiled quite a few times that day, I noticed, and I may have a small idea as to why I was… happier than usual. Well, the word ‘happy’ is sort of an overstatement for a man like me… let’s just say I was more… at ease… I guess.
“You surely have changed quite a few things about me… my friend.”
********
The crackling sounds of sparks coming from the fireplace were the first to greet your ears as you slowly began to leave your state of slumber. You allowed the moderate light of the room to sneak into your eyes as your eyelids gradually grew apart. Once your sight was comfortable with the dim light, you let it settle on the ceiling of the room. You soon came to recognize where you were. You had no idea how or when you got to the living room at your own house, but knowing that you were home had its own comforting effect on you. The soothing crackling of fire continued to tickle your senses, accompanied with the flowing warmth emitted from the fireplace.
You turned your head and looked toward the source of that warmth, and it was then when you saw him: the man with ebony hair sitting next to the hearth, silently leaning against the chimney’s jamb while gazing at the bright tongues of fire. His sight was so focused on the dancing flames that he didn’t feel your gaze fixated on him. You weren’t expecting to see him there, however. You pushed yourself up and sat up on the couch: “Vincent?” It surprised you how hoarse your voice had sounded.
Vincent moved his head which was resting against the wall and looked at you: “_______, you’re awake.”
You ran your hands over your garments in order to straighten the creases that had formed while you were asleep: “Yeah… good morning.”
“Evening.” He corrected with that somewhat monotonous voice of his.
“Oh… uh, yeah…” you chuckled sheepishly. You then combed your hand through your slightly messy hair, hanging a few strands behind your ear after feeling the heat of embarrassment spreading across your face. “Um… sorry… for keeping you waiting.”
“That’s alright.”
Still trying to untangle your hair using your fingers, you felt a sharp pain flash through your skull. You furrowed your brow at the sudden pain and let your fingers press against your forehead, which in turn caused you to flinch. You had forgotten about the aching abrasion on your right temple – even through the bandage fastened on top of it, the gash still hurt when being touched. You winced at the uncomfortable feeling, but your silent whimpering didn’t go unnoticed by the man who sat near the fireplace. “Are you alright?” Vincent asked, standing up.
“Yeah… it just hurts a little…” you croaked.
He slowly made his way to you and knelt with one knee to the ground. He looked intently at your bandaged forehead, and with a solemn look he said: “It looks like it hasn’t stopped bleeding yet. It needs to be cleaned again.”
“Yeah…” you lowered your gaze and let your fingers graze softly against the piece of fabric that covered your forehead.
Vincent stood up but kept his eyes trained to you. “The bandage needs to be changed. Where do you keep the first aid kit?”
You raised your eyes to look at him and shook your head a little: “Oh no. Don’t worry about it. I can do it myself.”
“It’s alright. Let me handle that. I know, if I leave you like this, you won’t take good care of yourself.” He commented in a nonchalant manner.
You scoffed: “Pffft! That’s not true!”
The poker-face expression that he was given you was enough to make you drop your act of denial. You rolled your eyes and smiled: “Alright, fine. You’ll find it in the small cabinet in the bathroom… I think..?”
Without saying a word, Vincent turned and disappeared out of the living room. You inhaled a good amount of air and held it in for a few seconds, but it kind of worried you how broken your breath sounded when you finally released it from your lungs. You closed your eyes and threw your head back, leaning back against the couch. You lied there limply for some time, feeling the warmth of the fire as it radiated from the fireplace onto your body; no noise was disturbing your brief moment of rest, however you did enjoy the crackling of the burning flames as they invaded the blocks of wood that sat in the middle of the inner hearth, slowly turning into grey cinder.
It didn’t take long before you felt the cushion beside you dropping slightly as a weight settled upon it, so you opened your eyes and turned your head slightly to see Vincent sitting next to you, with a white box between his hands. He set it down on the cushion and looked at you: “Tired?”
You nodded slowly, with your head still leaning back against the backrest of the couch. Lazily, you pulled yourself up from your slouched position and sat across from Vincent, with a leg tucked under the other. Shyly, Vincent reached with his hand for the bandage that wound around your forehead and began to unreel it, being very careful as he did so. Taking the long piece of fabric off, he finally relieved your wound from the slight pressure that the bandage was executing, but the sudden exposure to the room’s air caused it to sting a little.
Vincent was very mindful as he applied the disinfectant to your scratched skin using clean gauze, treating every graze with utmost care. His every move was shy and kind of awkward – you noted – but you appreciated his effort. Had he not cared, he wouldn’t have offered to help in the first place. You couldn’t simply voice it out loud, but you were more than grateful that he stayed.
His steady eyes followed his fingers as they went about cleaning the scrapes on your face, but every once in a while they would meet your calm eyes for a fleeting second. During every time his eyes met your own, you felt as if his obsidian pupils could stare deep into your soul in such an ephemeral amount of time. You didn’t miss every time his fingers made the slightest contact with your skin, leaving a trail of burning sensation in their wake. You couldn’t fight back the rosy blush that invaded your cheeks, though the scratched skin did sting more as it grew hotter. You were embarrassed – you couldn’t possibly deny it – the two of you were sitting fairly close to each other; however, something about his presence drew you closer, something in his eyes compelled you to meet their gaze without having the courage to look away.
You winced as the piece of gauze drenched in antiseptic burned the lacerated skin, and Vincent was quick to notice it. His brow furrowed in concern: “I’m sorry.” He muttered.
You shook your head and gave him a weak smile: “It’s alright.”
After cleaning all of your injuries, Vincent disposed of the bloodied gauzes and set about applying bandages. As he was fixing the adhesive bandage over a cut on the side of your forehead, you looked at him and spoke in a tiny voice: “Thank you.”
Vincent looked directly into your eyes. He stared in the depth of your orbs for a few moments before his eyes softened and he replied: “It’s nothing.”
You smiled appreciatively at him, but soon your smile disappeared. You hurried to wind your arms around your stomach as it made that weird growling sound. Almost instantly, an ardent blush crept over your cheeks. The growling had sounded louder than you had thought it could, and you were pretty sure that it reached Vincent’s ears. That was highly embarrassing, to say the least. You raised your eyes to meet his, only to find a faint smile showing on his lips, though it was partially hidden behind the collar of his crimson cloak. That only contributed more to the embarrassment that caused your already flushed face to grow in fervor. And Vincent’s following comment did not help in the least: “Someone is hungry.” He teased, finally done with tending to your injuries.
You pouted and whacked his forearm playfully: “Don’t make fun of me!” you complained, feigning offense.
“You haven’t eaten anything since yesterday and your body is weak. You need to eat something.”
“Yeah…”
Vincent examined your face for a long minute before rising to his feet and walking away from the couch. “Where are you going?” You asked him.
He turned only partially to look at you from over his shoulder: “To make supper.”
“You?!” You blinked in surprise.
“Yes?”
“No. I’ll take care of that.” You stood up from the couch.
“Why?” He asked, turning fully to face you. “Is it because I’m a man, so you assumed that I can’t cook?”
“What..? No, no! I didn’t…” You waved with your hands in denial. “That’s not what I meant.”
Vincent gave you an amused look. “So?”
“It’s just that…” you sighed, “you’re my guest and I should be the one to treat you accordingly. And to be honest, I already feel ashamed for not being able to repay you for every good deed that you have shown me.” You averted your gaze from Vincent and looked toward the floor. “You’ve done so much for me already and I honestly don’t know what to do to show you my gratitude. And I feel that the more you do for me, the more I-…”
Your words were cut short the moment you felt Vincent’s right hand on your shoulder. You looked up at him and found him looking back, an intent look in his eyes. “Are you done?”
You opened your mouth to speak but closed it back. “Yes?” You replied, unsure.
“You’re tired and you need to rest. Let me take care of things for now. Alright?” He asked.
You took a long inhale of air then let it out in a puff: “Fine.” You surrendered. “But…”
“Hm?” He asked, withdrawing his hand to his side.
“Do you… do you really know how to cook?” You questioned shyly.
Vincent gave you a blank look, causing you to feel restive under his scrutiny. “What?” You squeaked nervously.
“So you do think that I would fail in cooking simply because I am a man. Is that so?” He queried, crossing his arms against his taut chest. You shrank a little: “Maybe..?” You said, shrugging reluctantly.
Vincent sighed: “I’ve lived alone for… practically my whole life. I can survive in your kitchen; that much I can assure you of.”
“Okay, if you say so…” You gave in, seeing no point in arguing with him.
**********
After blowing some cooling air on the soup, you spooned it into your mouth and hummed appreciatively. You turned to Vincent and smiled: “This is really good!” Perhaps that was the third or fourth time that you had told him that, but you honestly couldn’t get over how delicious the healthy soup that Vincent had prepared for you really was! Without the slightest exaggeration, it was like nothing you had tasted before! You had expected Vincent to be a master of perfectionism… but being so good at cooking? That was a huge surprise to you!
Vincent, who was sitting on the other side of the couch, replied: “I was hoping you would like it.”
“Oh! I love it! I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted so far!” You expressed sincerely. Vincent nodded, appreciating your positive comment.
Slipping another spoonful of the soup through your lips, you smiled as the delectable savor tickled the taste buds of your tongue and after swallowing the warmth into your throat, you addressed Vincent again: “How did you make this?”
He gazed at you for a second before answering: “It’s a secret recipe of mine.”
You raised your eyebrows at his short comment. “Oh, I see how it is!” you smirked, earning a small smile from the man.
After a while of eating in silence, you placed your half-empty bowl on the small coffee table near the couch, and used a tissue to wipe your mouth clean. “I…” you muttered, feeling flustered all of a sudden: “I don’t think I can thank you enough.” You said, keeping your eyes cast downwards.
Vincent trained his eyes at you for a good moment then spoke in a low tone: “This is nothing.”
“Not… not just this.” You shook your head a little, “I’m talking about everything you’ve done for me, from the moment we met, ‘till this very second. I…” You broke your steady gaze from the not so interesting floor and looked straight into Vincent’s crimson irises. “I couldn’t have made it here without your help. So, thank you.” You said, a soft smile spreading on your rosy lips.
“You don’t have to thank me. I only did what I had to do.”
“We both know that you didn’t have to do any of this. But you did it anyways. And for that I am thankful.” You reasoned, rendering him wordless. You then added: “I really want to do something in reciprocation for your kindness. Name it, and I’ll do it.”
“You don’t have to worry about it.”
“I insist.” You looked him straight in the eyes, seriousness apparent in the dark depth of your pupils. “Please.”
Vincent held your gaze with the tranquil pools of his ruby eyes for a while before averting them to the side. He seemed to be thinking about your request. You gazed expectantly at the profile view of his face, unable to know the thoughts of his mind. You couldn’t help but study the well-defined features of his face, the deep contrast of his alabaster skin with the ebony silk of his hair that framed the sides of his visage, and the congruity between the calm mien in the depth of his eyes and the sharpness of his cheekbones. The longer you gazed at the man’s face, the more you could glean the small details that were able to set him apart from other men. His fine looks were distinctive, different from everything your eyes had seen – rare, you could say. You had to admit, however: he is quite good-looking, the mysterious trait in every detail of his being making him all the more handsome.
You had to practically chide your mind to stop dwelling on how sightly Vincent looked, and how relieved you actually were when you succeeded in banishing the tiny blush that had crept to your cheeks, unannounced, before Vincent could take notice of it! It would be disastrous if he did!
After giving it a long thought, Vincent finally spoke while keeping his eyes fixated on the wall parallel to where the two of you were seated: “Do you remember when you said that we are friends?”
You blinked. “Yes..?” But as he kept silent after that, you added: “Why?”
Vincent hesitated, feeling slightly uncomfortable with the utterance that was about to leave his mouth: “I would… like it if we…” he paused, casting his sight to the floor underneath, and you tilted your head a little to the side, silently urging him to speak… and he did, after a moment of reluctance: “If we stayed friends.”
Your eyes widened, but a happy smile instantly tugged at your lips. “Well, I’m actually planning on doing just that. We’re already friends, and from what I see, nothing is going to change that. So… this doesn’t really count.” He finally looked at you and you grinned. “Ask for something else.”
“But I’m not asking for more.” Vincent answered shortly, but his simple words were sufficient to communicate with your heart, making it throb back in a newfound admiration. He added: “This is all that I ask of you… your friendship.”
In contrast to his usually monotonous way of talking, Vincent’s voice had sounded gentle to your ears, making you want to repeat his words again and again in your head just so it could become engraved in it. An unfamiliar feeling of warmth instantly engulfed your palpitating heart, and from there it spread to your entire body, followed by a slight shiver that stroked every cell of your skin. It wasn’t enough to make your body quiver uncontrollably, but you could feel it nonetheless.
Although you didn’t quite understand the reason for the odd way you were feeling inside, you smiled – a beautiful and genuine smile. Honestly, no words could convey your feeling of appreciation to Vincent. “Okay, then.” You nodded, successfully fighting back the stinging tears of gratitude before they could blur your sight. “Consider it done.”
Vincent nodded back, his lips mirroring a smaller reflection of your smile. As if wanting to sign the agreement, you extended your right hand to him and said: “Friends forever?”
Vincent’s eyes flickered to your waiting hand then back to you, and this time, he didn’t have to hesitate. He enclosed your hand with his larger one, accepting your handshake. “Yes.” He said. The two of you retracted your hands at the same time, but the tingly feeling on your skin seemed to linger. Why did you feel as if a course of electricity had shot through the length of your arm when Vincent’s hand had touched yours? What had stimulated those annoying goosebumps to pop up on your skin?
Knowing that neither question could be answered, you chose to ignore the weird feeling altogether. You grinned perkily. “Okay, now that we shook hands on it and we officially became ‘bffs’…” you chuckled lightly, unable to hold in the hearty laugh, “I expect you to tell me the secret recipe for your amazing soup!”
“Really now?”
To Be Continued…