Chapter 8: Crimson Craving
Ever since Rody was a young, impressionable child, the world had been a curious place to him. From the blue sky above that donned the fluffy white clouds and the rustling green leaves, to things around the house like his family's TV and telephone, it had always intrigued him in a way that was hard to explain in his little mind. To him, each small thing was a surprise for him to discover, and each discovery he made was another piece of puzzle for him to unlock a different aspect of what this world had to offer. Everything he saw, he had to find out more about it. Everything he touched or heard, it brought him an incomprehensible rush of excitement. He could still remember the very first memories he formed, the memories of him eating his childhood food for the first time, touching his toy train that he was captivated with, watching something that quickly became his comfort movie, and his first time seeing a car. It was on a beautiful morning when he saw a "giant running machine" rolling past him while on a stroll with his dad. As his big brown eyes widened with fascination, he tugged on his dad's sleeves, pointing at it as he asked what it was.
"It's a car." On his dad's lips was a smile that Rody definitely got from him. As his dad enthusiastically explained to him how it worked in a way that his young mind could grasp, Rody couldn't help asking something.
"Dad, can I try it?"
His dad let out a small chuckle before patting his head. "Not right now, but when you grow up and work hard, perhaps you can be in one, alright?"
Technically speaking, that did happen. But how can Rody tell his dad that instead of driving in his own car, he was sitting in the passenger seat next to his boss, the one and only Vincent Charbonneau, in his very own personal car, and was being driven back to his apartment by said boss? In his humble opinion, that was way more far-fetched than having a car of his own.
It was after yet another late night shift for him. Ever since Vincent hired the new waiter a long while ago, he worked mainly day shifts, but here and there, the new guy would ask him to cover for him due to emergencies, and he would do the same if Rody was unable to work that day. It was Rody's turn to cover for him again tonight, everything was well until at the end of the shift, it started pouring the moment he stepped foot outside. And it was pouring hard, to the point it was almost impossible to see where he was going, the fierce wind rattling the trees nearby. "I'll wait it out", he told himself, but was quickly convinced to get into the car with Vincent when it had been a full half an hour and the rain did not get better. He was so busy hoping the rain would stop that he didn't quite notice the look he was giving Francis, his coworker who did also have a car and could've absolutely given him a ride instead.
If you were to ask Francis what the look was like, he would tell you "it's hard to describe", but he and the rest of the chefs knew that look, it was the look, as how they called it. As he was getting ready to leave, he caught it on Vincent's face, whose body was turning away from him, but it was unmistaken that it was there, and Vincent just shot it to him in the matter of seconds. Chuckling, Francis headed home, but if he had to be honest, there was an irresistible urge in him to walk past Vincent while simultaneously whispering in his ear "didn't want to steal your chance anyway, boss." Therefore, there Rody was, in the car with Vincent himself. And perhaps the more unbelievable fact was that, this wasn't the first time this had happened.
As the car soared through the pouring rain, Rody watched the droplets of rain racing amongst each other on the window as he let his mind drift along with the soothing sounds of the rain hitting the car. It was also raining heavily that day, the day when his life took a turn that he didn't see coming. Never would he have thought he would go for seven months without seeing Manon's smile, listening to her voice and holding her in his embrace, yet that was exactly what he did. Some days were better than others, and on some nights, he found himself staring at the phone, struggling to pick it up and call her number. "Just one more time", he would justify it in his mind, but another thought would cross and it was Vincent's exact words-"She sacrificed the relationship… for both of you." So, one night, instead of reaching for the phone, he walked to the fridge and snatched off the piece of paper with her number on it. It was the same piece of paper she had slid into his hands with a smile after they oddly kept running into each other at a coffee shop, those random encounters turned into small chatters, and those chatters blossomed into a date and something more. If he had to be honest, something in him stung when he was gripping the paper in his hands, as though unwilling to get rid of the memories, but eventually, he let go of the paper and threw it in the trash, just like how he let go of Manon because as much as it hurt, he loved her too much to cling onto what was left of their relationship.
A hand reached over to adjust the music, jolting Vincent back to the present moment and guiding his gaze to the one driving the car. As the car kept running down the road, Vincent seemed as though he was glowing amongst the darkness of the night. His dark eyes gleamed under the dim streetlight through the window, his skin as fair as ever and peaking from under his collar, as one of his dexterous hands moved up from the steering wheel to comb through his dark locks that sparkled as though it was under a shower of fairy dust from the few raindrops that got on while he was getting in the car. His fingers rhythmically tapped the steering wheel, the same fingers that were placed on Rody's shoulders when Vincent caught him silently crying at the back of the restaurant. His eyes were on the road, the same eyes that had looked at him with concern even thought he would outright deny it. Vincent was a vicious man, they said. Vincent's heart was ice cold, it was rumored. Vincent could care less about anyone else, Vincent said it himself. Yet, Vincent was someone who was there for him in the past seven months Rody had spent getting over a relationship that he had hoped would progress into something more. Vincent was not a man of sweet words, he seemed more like someone who would call out on your idiocy and knock some sense into your mindless self-depreciation, but Rody knew each word of reassurance and each piece of advice Vincent had given him, it was genuine.
Before Rody even thought he would one day be in the same vicinity as Vincent, Vincent was a masterful chef and a ruthless critic that Rody was sure he would never get along with. When Rody first stepped into Vincent's office seven months ago, Vincent was someone Rody had to impress and the person whose aura had captivated him without realizing. When he got hired as a waiter, Vincent was his boss that he felt he had to perform well in his presence. And now, when he's sitting in his car, after seven tough months of battling with his feelings, Vincent was someone he could trust, and if he dared say, he was almost like a friend to him.
"Something on my face?"
Vincent's voice jolted Rody out of his train of thoughts, and only then did he notice Vincent had glanced over him briefly and definitely had caught him staring.
"Ack-It's-" Rody looked away, his eyes down at his legs again. "It's nothing, I was uh-just thinking."
"About…?"
"Oh you know-" Rody chuckled awkwardly as he scratched the back of his head. "Food, rent, normal stuff-"
Vincent narrowed his eyes, raising an eyebrow at him before turning back to the road before them. Thankfully, Rody's destination was now in sight and Vincent pulled over, slowing down gradually before stopping completely in front of Rody's apartment complex.
"Thanks Vince. I-don't know how I'd get home if not for you." Rody gave Vincent a smile as they stood in front of the front door. "Well, goodnight Vince-"
"Wait." Vincent's voice made Rody halt on his track before turning back to look at him.
"What's up-"
Before Rody could complete his sentence, he was interrupted by a hand being placed on his forehead. As the rain kept pouring outside, the sound of the raindrops hitting the ground drowning out all the sounds that there may be and the only sources of light being the streetlights and the ones from inside the apartment, Rody was silent as he felt the warmth of Vincent's hands melting away the cold of the night as Vincent wore a mysterious expression on his face. Rody would not attempt to read it, but somewhere in his heart, he knew he cared, and that everything was going to be okay.
"Good, no fever." Vincent took his hand away, and somehow, Rody started to miss those seconds of warmth. "You had me worried for a sec there."
"I-" Rody touched his forehead, as though trying to process what just happened there. "What for?"
"Well, you were acting strange"-The corner of Vincent's lips slowly turned up into a grin, his iconic shit-eating grin-"and I can't have you sick for tomorrow now, can I?"
Rody shrugged as he rolled his eyes. "There it is. So, what's the occasion?"
Vincent straightened up his posture again, his hands crossing. "I'm hosting a dinner party tomorrow night, you up for the task?"
Rody leaned in teasingly with his hands on his hips, a big smirk on his face. "Only if I'm paid extra."
"You know that goes without questions." Vincent returned the smirk, although there was a weird sense of happiness inside him. Perhaps it was from knowing this time, all the extra money he would make would go straight to him and not towards someone he felt he had to please, when that person didn't even want him to do so anyway.
"Then I'm ready when you are."
"That settles it then." Vincent chuckled. "Well with that said, goodnight Rody."
"Night, Vince."
Rody waved as Vincent opened his umbrella before heading to his car, and he didn't come in until Vincent had disappeared from his sight. There was nothing out of the ordinary about the way to his apartment, yet it felt longer than usual, and it was probably because of the constant thought Rody had been thinking about for a long time.
What does Vince even like?
Closing the door to his apartment behind him, he put his hand over his chin, pondering it as he sat down on his couch. For a while now, the idea of giving Vincent a gift had not left him. After all, Vincent didn't need to do all of this for him. He didn't need to hire him. He didn't need to tolerate him, or keep him there. He didn't need to make food for him. He didn't need to drive him home. And most importantly, he didn't need to bring him home after he saw him under the rain that day seven months ago, gave him a safe space to pour all his feelings out, held his hands and provided him a ground for him to bounce back up from arguably one of the darkest times of his life. If he ever told anyone about this, they would call him a liar and he would not blame them at all-Vincent did look like he wouldn't bat an eye at you even if you begged for his attention, and someone who wouldn't hesitate to call your cooking horrible. All of this, it sounded unreal, far-fetched, like a story that was made up for the tabloid to eat up. Yet, somehow, it all happened. Those gentle touches, caring gazes, worried expressions, he had seen it all. If Rody had to be honest, it made him wonder where all those rumors came from, or perhaps, it was what Vincent wanted the world to believe?
Even though Vincent would likely say working hard on his job would be enough of a gift, plus he probably had all the money to buy anything he wished for anyway, Rody would still like to try, yet he had no clue on what Vincent may even be interested in. Strangely enough, as if trying to keep the world guessing, Vincent had left not a single trail for Rody to even begin to theorize what he might want as a gift. Vincent rarely talked about his own interests, and whenever he did, he kept it sufficient enough for someone to be unable to say he didn't answer their questions, yet still vague enough that it was almost as if he never told them anything in the first place. Now Rody kind of regretted not pushing for more, but then again, he probably had his reasons back then, plus Vincent probably wouldn't budge anyway. Rody was tempted to just get something expensive, something worthy to be called "rich people things", but the more he thought about it, Vincent would very likely be upset at him for falling back down his old habits-overspending on pricey gifts because he thought it was what he had to do to show his appreciation. Now he was pretty much stuck.
That was until, that moment during lunch break crossed his mind once again.
There was nothing particularly interesting about lunch break today, everything was as how it usually was. Rody and his coworkers grabbed the lunch that they brought and gathered around to eat it together as they had the typical workplace conversations. They would have some casual chatters, ask about each other's day, and more often than not, one person would lean in and whisper about the latest gossips they caught wind of. At least, that was unless it was about Rody and Vincent, in which case they went all out into full-on teasing mode. It was in one of those conversations that Rody turned around and took a glance at the man that his coworkers kept teasing him with. Vincent looked as relaxed as could be with his back against a wall, standing in a distance which made Rody wondered if he genuinely never heard of the teasing or he was trying to be blissfully ignorant, with half a lemon in his hand. Under normal circumstances, Rody would wince in pain with the thought of how eating a raw lemon would be like, yet today was different. Instead of focusing on the imagination of the intensely sour taste, all his mind was absorbed in the way his delicate fingers were wrapped around the lemon as they brought it up to his face, where it gently touched his lips as his sharp teeth sunk into it, making small yet enticing suctioning sounds while his mouth slowly drew all the lemon juice out of the slice. It must've been so obvious that his coworkers started laughing hysterically before Bernard slapped his shoulder, causing him to turn back with a face as red as a tomato and not noticing the way Vincent shot a quick glance at him.
The memory was so vivid, the chilly atmosphere in the room slowly became warmer and warmer from the way a burning deep dark blush was creeping up his cheeks. He groaned as he threw his face into his palms, wondering why the hell he was recalling that scene for the third time today before it hit him.
Lemons… Vincent liked lemons, that was something Vincent had told him explicitly since the very beginning.
No no, that's stupid, Rody shook his head and he smacked both palms on his cheeks. I'm not going to fucking bring a bunch of lemons to a party, especially not his party. But then, he gave it another thought-Rody had pondered it for probably a month now, and besides lemons, he had not a single idea on what Vincent may actually enjoy. Besides, it was infinitely better to give Vincent lemons than not give him anything at all, and Vincent would likely scold him for wasting his money on something expensive for him, just because he thought he had to. Lemons was something Rody was sure Vincent would like, or at least wouldn't mind, they were definitely not ridiculously pricey, and in fact, they were very cheap and very well within his budget. Therefore, even if it did seem silly, it was the most logical choice, and so it was what he had in his hands as he rung the doorbell to Vincent's apartment the next night.
"Coming." Vincent's voice could be heard behind the door, followed by the sound of the door opening. There Vincent was, in his familiar long-sleeved black shirt and matching black pants. Strange, it was the exact same outfit he had on when Rody came to his place for the very first time. If it had not been months since that day, Rody would've seriously thought he either didn't change, or his closet consisted of multiple of the same clothes. "You're early, Rody."
"Yeah-Uh- I-I headed out early to p-pick these up, f-for you." Rody nervously chuckled before extending the bag he was holding towards Vincent, who tilted his head with curiosity before leaning in to eye the content inside.
"Lemons…?"
"Y-Yeah, 'cause like-You said you liked lemons-And I-I-I wanted to give something as g-gratitude for your help and support, so-Yeah-"
As Rody said it, his eyes were down at the ground, sweating profusely and his face a deep shade of red. He couldn't see Vincent, not his posture, not the expression he had on his face, yet the stare from him, Rody could feel it. It was definitely there, it was intense, and it was sending chills own his spine. The scary part was, Rody could tell it wasn't anger. Having gotten so used to Vincent putting up with his shenanigans, he had quite forgotten the actual nature of the relationship between them, and who Vincent was as a person. He may deal with Rody's teasing and jokes, but under no circumstances would he tolerate disrespect, which this gift might come across as and it was only now that Rody realized it was a possibility. What thoughts Vincent might be having, Rody was not sure, but it terrified him that it likely wasn't anger. From the seven months he had been working here, he out of all people should know it was not Vincent's rage that they should fear-it was rather his lack of rage when it should definitely be present.
That was, until a hearty laugh filled the entire hallway. It wasn't a sarcastic laugh that he would give Rody for his lame jokes. It wasn't the small laugh to repress his anger at an annoying customer. It was a loud and genuinely laugh, one that could only be heard when there was real joy. Startled, Rody whipped his head up and was greeted with a sight never seen before. Before him wasn't a distant, critical chef who only aimed for perfection, not a protective boss who wanted his employees to follow every kitchen protocols for the safety of themselves and others, or an emotionless man incapable of expressing anything other than anger and disgust. Instead, in front of him was someone who could not care less about maintaining a proper appearance, in fact, the needs for it seemed to have been thrown straight out of the windows. His hair was disheveled, tears were forming in the corner of his eyes, his legs bent and struggling to keep himself standing straight while one of his hands were holding his stomach and the other gripping the doorframe, as if that was the only way he could balance. Usually Rody would pout, but right now, all he could do was to stare in awe. Usually, Vincent would only laugh out loud like this when he wanted to mess with Rody. However, this time was different. This time, it sounded so authentic, so unfeigned, it was as though it was from endearment.
"Sorry I-" Vincent straightened himself up, trying to calm his laughter down as he wiped the tears off his eyes. "Thank you, Rody. It's very much appreciated."
"Eh-? You… don't mind?" Seemingly snapped back to reality, Rody let out a small gasp as Vincent took the bag from him, nervously fidgeting with his hands. "I feel like I could've gotten something nicer, you know-I just-literally had no idea what else to give you-"
"It's… for lack of better words, cute." Vincent said as he looked into the bag, and somehow, Rody's heart skipped a beat. Not only was Vincent smiling softly, he also said the word he had never used and had sworn to never us, claiming it was not within his vocabulary. "It's just-It's nice to receive something… genuine, so I got caught off guard, I suppose."
Rody raised his eyebrow. "'Genuine'…?"
"Well-what I mean is, I could tell you put thoughts into your gift. You gave me something you knew I liked, and your intentions behind it is honest." Vincent chuckled quietly. "You weren't like those people in the past who've tried shoving expensive, heedless things on me when we've never had any sort of acquaintance or friendship, hoping I'd give them something in return, like some sort of friendship or-"
Vincent cut himself off, shaking his head as though realizing he was sharing more than he should be.
"N-Nevermind that." He stepped aside to let Rody in. "The guests will be here soon, you'd better get ready."
Just like the last party Rody catered at, there was nothing particularly out of the ordinary with this one either. Same place, same time, same guests, the only thing different was the food, which this time, there was more dishes and more variety. The conversations also weren't too far off from the last time Rody saw these guests. His old college friend was there and Rody had gotten more comfortable with telling him what had been going on with him. One guy told him begrudgingly that he lost the bet with the girl Vincent was seeing, and having known the full story behind him, Rody could only let out an amused huff, which apparently did not make the guy happy. Another guy was still up to his backhanded comments, saying he was impressed Rody was still working for Vincent and not out on the street, but before he could get another word in, Vincent placed a hand on his shoulder with a menacing smile. Sure enough, after that he shut up about it real quick. Before he was aware of it, the clock had already struck at nine o'clock and everyone left, leaving Rody alone with Vincent.
It was almost reminiscent of what transpired after the party ended, but Rody had decided to not give it too much thought. There was no way the same thing would happen, right?
"Ah…" Rody gave himself a nice stretch as he flopped onto the sofa so casually, it would scare a normal person. Most people couldn't fathom being in the same room as Vincent, let alone using his sofa like it was his own. "I'm so spent."
"Well then"-Vincent walked up to him and leaned down slightly-"care for some wine?"
"Sure thing-" Rody yawned before cutting it midway, propping himself upward and shot a look of disbelief to Vincent. "Wait what?"
"What do you mean, what?" Vincent had already started heading into the kitchen. "Last time you were here, didn't you ask for some?"
"Yeah, but-" Rody held one hand up to the side of his head, his eyes following Vincent as he picked up a bottle from the table. "Vince, that time I was fucking depressed, I-I thought it'd help clear my mind, you know?"
"Well first, using alcohol to get over something is possibly one of the worst things you could do. Second"-Vincent turned to look at Rody-"if wine isn't your thing, would tea do? Or do you just want water?"
"Erm…" Rody paused for a good moment before scratching his cheek, chuckling in defeat. "On second thought, this may be my only chance to taste some of those expensive wine…"
Vincent threw him a smirk with a tray in his hands, on which was a fancy-looking bottle of red wine and two glasses. "Knew you'd say that."
"Hey, what's that supposed to mean?" Rody pouted at Vincent, who sat down on the sofa opposite from him and put the tray down on the coffee table.
"I don't know, what do you think?"
Vincent threw Rody a smirk as he poured each of them a glass before offering one to Rody, whose pout slowly turned into a smile as he took it in his hand.
"You're impossible."
"I know." Vincent grinned as the sound of their glasses clanking together rung in the quiet room. "Yet you put up with it."
As Vincent took a sip, Rody was staring at his own reflection in the wine that was of a deep crimson as he swirled it around in his glass, seemingly pondering what Vincent just told him. The last time he was alone with Vincent in this living room, he could still remember it as though it just happened yesterday, and from time to time, it boggled his mind how it was even possible. It was considered a big honor to even see with your own eyes on the streets, let alone be able to talk to him, and it was not with just regular people. It also held true with people well-known in the culinary world, chefs and critics alike. Some would go their entire life wishing for a day they could afford to dine at his restaurant, some had tried to arrange a meeting with him, yet Vincent remained a mysterious figure despite all the effort multiple people had put into seeing them for themselves or getting him to reveal more about his personal life. As Vincent wasn't afraid to hurt people's feelings when needed, his ground stayed as firm as ever and only the ones he considered trustworthy and important enough would be taken seriously. So, why was someone as average and mediocre as Vincent had this opportunity in the first place? He knew so many people would jump at the chance to be breathing the same air as Vincent, yet he was, sitting in his own apartment, drinking his wine that probably cost an arm and a leg, and just… hanging out. They weren't discussing anything important or trying to close on a lucrative deal. They were just there, relaxing on the sofa and enjoying this peaceful night with some fine wine.
No matter how he looked at this, the feeling he was undeserving of this was hard to escape.
"More like you put up with me."
Vincent looked over Rody with a raised eyebrow. "What do you mean by that?"
"Vince-It's- Like-Shit, have you seen what people said about you?" Rody turned his head towards Vincent, chuckling quietly as he spoke. "I mean, I know they're rumors and-you're kinder than people like to believe, but like-Why are you doing this for me, out of all the people you could've given your time of day to?"
Vincent didn't respond, as though wanting to hear more.
"I know I'm being negative but-I just don't get it, Vince." Rody gripped his glass as he held his head low. "I appreciate what you've done for me, but I'm just a college drop-out with no prior experience in cooking or fine-dining service. I've only jumped from one minimum wage job to another. You not only gave me a chance to work here, but you also have shown me more tolerance, more generosity than what I deserve. You've given me many wise words of advice and a ground to bounce up from when I was at my lowest. It's just-I don't hate what we have now, I just-don't understand why it's me."
The room was drowned in silence, the only sound being the leaves that were dancing with the wind outside under the deep dark sky. No one had moved and no word was exchanged. The air wasn't eerie, the quietness wasn't comfortable or suffocating, it didn't make Rody felt like he had to run or try to break the silence, yet he didn't feel at ease either. Somewhere in him, he felt stupid. It was as though the moment he finally let out what had been eating him on the inside, he immediately wanted to take it back even though it was definitely too late. Yes, it bothered him greatly and the need for an answer had grown more and more strongly as more time went by, but only now did he think, what if it was better to just not say anything? Would it have been more comfortable living in this reality that he was in, just going on with his life and accepting Vincent's kindness? Sure it was indeed rare and sounded too good to be true, but just taking it would've absolutely not made him look ungrateful. What was he doing, questioning something many people would've eaten up given the chance? Ah, he really blew up for real now, didn't he-
"Rody."
Vincent's sound broke Rody out of his train of thoughts, and only after he had looked up did he realize Vincent had left his position and their body were now inches away, their chest could practically be touching at any moment. Rody would've asked what he was doing until he took a closer look at Vincent. His breath was so heavy, he could be panting, and there was a red blush across his face, his cheeks almost as rosy as the wine they were having. With one hand on the back of the sofa and another on his thigh, Vincent wasn't in a position where Rody was completely trapped, despite the small distance between them. Technically speaking, Rody could stand up and bolt out of there right about now, yet for some reason, he didn't.
Witnessing Vincent in this state made his heart race, but it wasn't from his desire to run away. Rather, it was from his desire to stay. Vincent's eyes were half-lidded, his eyelashes framing his beautiful deep dark eyes, as they exchanged deep gazes with each other, their body inching more and more closely to each other, his locks had fallen from their perfect form with some strands falling over his perfect tall nose, his lips turning a light pink shade. His breath reached Rody, his body felt warm to the touch when Rody's hand accidentally made contact with his arm that reached up to brush a strand of hair off his face, as though wanting to take in his unobstructed, raw beauty. With his other hand, he took Rody's glass off his hand and placed it on the coffee table, drawing Rody's attention to Vincent's completely empty glass next to it.
"I do this not because you have certain qualities that I find useful, I do this because of you." Vincent's voice was quiet and beautiful as whispers of the night. "When you walked into my office that day, there was so much determination in your eyes, so much… love. And just like that, I was fascinated."
Vincent paused to gently hold Rody's chin, lifting it up ever so slightly as though to get a better look at his brown eyes.
"There was love in everything you do, and for a while, I couldn't grasp it. What did it mean to do something with love, that question had gone unsolved to me for so many years, until you, Rody, came into my life. You showed me what it was like to put so much care, effort and devotion into something because the joy and happiness of your loved ones is worth it. They are worth it.
I've always been so fixated on perfection, I'm unaware of what it means to do something because of my love for them. I've been cooking purely for myself, for my own satisfaction and my own sense of accomplishment. I don't believe it's wrong, but I was too focused on creating a flawless image, I become rigid with it. My cooking may have the best techniques out there, but it lacks true passion, it doesn't taste like someone put care in it, and I fell into denial. I've been in it for so long, I ignored that side of me, but you pulled me out of it. You reminded me I wasn't perfect, but you also filled me with the courage I needed to face it head-on. You were the love you were looking for. Therefore, I want to protect you. I want to protect the spark in your eyes, your stupidly bright smile, your abundant love…"
Vincent began to lean in closer and closer to Rody, his breath hot on Rody's cheeks and their lips inches away.
"But I must apologize, for I am still a selfish man. You're the sunshine that the world needed, but I wanted to keep it to my world. Your love is bountiful and your heart is benevolent, yet the more I receive your love, the more I crave it. Rody, I know my desires are sinful, I know I'm greedy, but if I could be granted a wish right now, I'd wish for my feelings to be reciprocated. I'd wish that you also wanted to make me yours just like how I want to keep you to myself-"
Vincent cut him off with a loud gasp, his eyes shot wide open before pushing himself off Rody, his back hitting the armrest as he panted into his palms. His pupils were small and panic-ridden, darting from Rody to the wine glasses on the coffee as he shuddered, seemingly just coming back to his sense about what just happened. Rody sat there motionlessly, as though still in a trance until his hand touched his chin and his heart skipped a beat, his eyes widening as his mind also began to register what they just did, all their actions, all their touches, all Vincent's words. And just like that, like dam finally shattering, every single one of his thoughts came flooding in at the revelation, his breathy voice slipping through his lips as he stared at his shaking hands, then at Vincent who was cowering at the other end of the sofa, clutching his shirt so hard, it could rip from the sheer force of it.
Rody waited for him to laugh, to tease him, to start waving his hand around and tell him it was just a sick prank, yet nothing happened, and at last, Rody broke.
"I-I need to go."
As quickly as Rody humanly could, he practically sprinted off the sofa and out the door, slamming it behind him as Vincent was frozen there, his eyes staring at the door as though waiting for Rody to walk through it again. His hand reached towards it, as though trying to reach for something, longing for something.
What was even left to long for, Vincent?
Author's note: Hey so I did make a drawing for this chapter because I thought it'd be cool to add some art in-between the story but turned out the site doesn't let you do it so you can find it on the story I posted on Archive of Our Own or Wattpad! My username is the same on both sites ^^
