Here's chapter 2. I can't guarantee that I'll be updating this fast all the time. Today just happens to be CRAZY slow at work, and this is all I can think of to keep myself entertained. If you're bored as well, check out my other Fan Fics, Two Weeks, and Back to Reality. (Yes... that was a shameless attempt at getting more reviews. Sorry.) And please read and review this story as well! Have a GREAT day!
Chapter 2
I returned home from work exhausted that evening, dumping my briefcase by the door and collapsing on the sofa in the living room.
I hated to admit it, but I was slightly relieved that Francie was out of town. I didn't feel like being grilled about why the bank worked me so hard, and why I didn't quit. Every time she commented on it, I felt like jumping up and screaming that it wasn't a bank—not even close—and that if there were any possible way to quit, I would in a heartbeat.
I groaned, burrowing farther back into the cushions of the couch, thinking half-heartedly about getting up and fixing something for dinner. I was starving, but I lacked any desire to actually move, let alone think of something to eat.
Without realizing it, my eyes began to droop, and I was soon fast asleep.
In what seemed like only a short period of time, I was jolted awake by loud knocking on my front door. I lay motionless for a moment, allowing the sleepiness to dissipate slightly before getting up and walking to the door. My heart stopped as I glanced through the peephole in the door.
Vaughn. I hesitated. What was he doing here? He knew we couldn't be seen together like this.
I opened the door quickly, grabbed his arm, and dragged him roughly into the house.
"Vaughn—what the Hell—" I snapped, after the door had safely been shut and locked. I turned to face him, knowing full well that I wasn't really angry so much as scared. There was a reason we were required to meet in gas stations and car washes and abandoned warehouses—why we weren't allowed to look at each other in public. This was dangerous. For both of us.
Vaughn looked at me for a moment before glancing away, looking suddenly ashamed.
"I'm sorry…" he said after a moment. "I shouldn't be here."
"No." I stated flatly. "You shouldn't." I felt guilty the second I said it. He looked up at me, and my heart constricted at the pain that flashed through his eyes at my harsh words.
He nodded. "This was a bad idea," he muttered, walking back towards the door.
"Wait…Vaughn." I grabbed his arm lightly. "I'm sorry. I just don't want anything to happen to y—" I caught myself before finishing the word. "—to us." I finished lamely. "But since you're already here," I paused, glancing at him. "You might as well stay."
He still refused to meet my eyes. Sighing, I squeezed his arm before giving him a slight tug into my living room. He looked up finally, offering me a tense smile before lowering himself onto my couch.
"What's in the bag?" I asked, noticing for the first time the two plastic bags he'd been carrying.
"Dinner. I thought maybe you'd be hungry." He held up a bag. "Hope you like Chinese."
I grinned. "Vaughn, you are an angel." He beamed, obviously pleased at the comment, and I felt the tension melt away. "Hold on and I'll get some plates."
He rose quickly at my words, following me to the kitchen. "Anything I can do to help?" He questioned. I smiled, watching him as he took in his surroundings.
"Yeah," I said. "Grab some silverware from the drawer. Napkins are in there too." I gestured to the drawer, before reaching up to retrieve some plates from one of the cupboards. He felt him move next to me, and realized suddenly how natural all this felt. How normal. Like we were a family. I grinned at the thought as I carried the plates to the counter.
"What?" Vaughn asked. I looked at him, surprised to see that he had been watching me. I blushed, but couldn't stop grinning.
"Nothing." I said unconvincingly.
"C'mon, Syd. What's funny?" Vaughn asked, holding back a grin himself.
"Nothing!" I said, laughing.
"Fine," he grumbled.
"Ok…" I said finally. "You talked me into it." He smiled triumphantly. "I was just thinking," I continued. "Wouldn't it be weird if this was how we spent all our evenings? Cooking, and talking, and—being normal?"
Vaughn looked at me for a moment. "Not that weird," he said. "I think it would be nice." He looked away shyly. I thought for a moment, trying to decide what he meant by the comment.
"Yeah, it would," I replied finally. "Very nice." He glanced up at me, a hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips.
We stood in silence for several seconds, before my stomach broke it with a loud, embarrassing rumble. I blushed, looking away again. Vaughn chuckled.
"Guess we'd better eat, huh?" He said, smiling.
"Guess so," I replied, handing him a plate.
Chapter 2
I returned home from work exhausted that evening, dumping my briefcase by the door and collapsing on the sofa in the living room.
I hated to admit it, but I was slightly relieved that Francie was out of town. I didn't feel like being grilled about why the bank worked me so hard, and why I didn't quit. Every time she commented on it, I felt like jumping up and screaming that it wasn't a bank—not even close—and that if there were any possible way to quit, I would in a heartbeat.
I groaned, burrowing farther back into the cushions of the couch, thinking half-heartedly about getting up and fixing something for dinner. I was starving, but I lacked any desire to actually move, let alone think of something to eat.
Without realizing it, my eyes began to droop, and I was soon fast asleep.
In what seemed like only a short period of time, I was jolted awake by loud knocking on my front door. I lay motionless for a moment, allowing the sleepiness to dissipate slightly before getting up and walking to the door. My heart stopped as I glanced through the peephole in the door.
Vaughn. I hesitated. What was he doing here? He knew we couldn't be seen together like this.
I opened the door quickly, grabbed his arm, and dragged him roughly into the house.
"Vaughn—what the Hell—" I snapped, after the door had safely been shut and locked. I turned to face him, knowing full well that I wasn't really angry so much as scared. There was a reason we were required to meet in gas stations and car washes and abandoned warehouses—why we weren't allowed to look at each other in public. This was dangerous. For both of us.
Vaughn looked at me for a moment before glancing away, looking suddenly ashamed.
"I'm sorry…" he said after a moment. "I shouldn't be here."
"No." I stated flatly. "You shouldn't." I felt guilty the second I said it. He looked up at me, and my heart constricted at the pain that flashed through his eyes at my harsh words.
He nodded. "This was a bad idea," he muttered, walking back towards the door.
"Wait…Vaughn." I grabbed his arm lightly. "I'm sorry. I just don't want anything to happen to y—" I caught myself before finishing the word. "—to us." I finished lamely. "But since you're already here," I paused, glancing at him. "You might as well stay."
He still refused to meet my eyes. Sighing, I squeezed his arm before giving him a slight tug into my living room. He looked up finally, offering me a tense smile before lowering himself onto my couch.
"What's in the bag?" I asked, noticing for the first time the two plastic bags he'd been carrying.
"Dinner. I thought maybe you'd be hungry." He held up a bag. "Hope you like Chinese."
I grinned. "Vaughn, you are an angel." He beamed, obviously pleased at the comment, and I felt the tension melt away. "Hold on and I'll get some plates."
He rose quickly at my words, following me to the kitchen. "Anything I can do to help?" He questioned. I smiled, watching him as he took in his surroundings.
"Yeah," I said. "Grab some silverware from the drawer. Napkins are in there too." I gestured to the drawer, before reaching up to retrieve some plates from one of the cupboards. He felt him move next to me, and realized suddenly how natural all this felt. How normal. Like we were a family. I grinned at the thought as I carried the plates to the counter.
"What?" Vaughn asked. I looked at him, surprised to see that he had been watching me. I blushed, but couldn't stop grinning.
"Nothing." I said unconvincingly.
"C'mon, Syd. What's funny?" Vaughn asked, holding back a grin himself.
"Nothing!" I said, laughing.
"Fine," he grumbled.
"Ok…" I said finally. "You talked me into it." He smiled triumphantly. "I was just thinking," I continued. "Wouldn't it be weird if this was how we spent all our evenings? Cooking, and talking, and—being normal?"
Vaughn looked at me for a moment. "Not that weird," he said. "I think it would be nice." He looked away shyly. I thought for a moment, trying to decide what he meant by the comment.
"Yeah, it would," I replied finally. "Very nice." He glanced up at me, a hint of a smile playing on the corner of his lips.
We stood in silence for several seconds, before my stomach broke it with a loud, embarrassing rumble. I blushed, looking away again. Vaughn chuckled.
"Guess we'd better eat, huh?" He said, smiling.
"Guess so," I replied, handing him a plate.