Is This Enough ||MxM || Lgbtq+ [ON Hiatus]

Chapter 5

Vinnie's P.O.V.

[Present Day]

My heart raced as the sound of his steps echoed across the staircase and into the kitchen. I was still nursing my wounds after the argument which I was sure he was doing the same.

When Leonardo slunk into the kitchen, his eyes were cast downwards. Knowing that the events of the night before had left me feeling indignant, I couldn't help but fight back a smile when our eyes met in a silent battle of wills.

"Um. . . Vinnie?" he mumbled.

My eyes were still glued to my phone as I asked, "Yes. What is it?"

"Are you still mad?"

"Huh?" I pretended to be perplexed by what he had posed, and I wasn't embarrassed to admit that I was being petty. It was in my nature.

He had an expressionless, faraway look on his face, while his shoulders were slumped.

"I'm so sorry," he mumbled. "I really messed up. I shouldn't have said those things. I got carried away." His restless hands gave away his inner strife as he attempted to meet my gaze; his words were genuine and heartfelt.

It was impossible to stay mad at him; he was just being curious, not realizing that it was a sensitive subject. "It's alright, Leonardo - don't be too hard on yourself. Are you hungry?"

"Yeah, I could eat." he replied.

Last night's dinner dishes were heaped in the sink, so I grabbed two bowls, some cereal, and a jug of milk. With only two options, I thought it better to inquire, so I presented the two boxes, asking, "Which would you like?" His finger pointed to the bran flakes, and as I filled the bowl, I felt his intense, penetrating stare.

"You're staring, you know?"

"Sorry."

Glancing back over my shoulder, "You seem to say that a lot, did you any plans for the day?" I presented him with a bowl and retrieved spoons for both of us, taking a seat at the kitchen table.

He stood in thought for a moment, his face contorted as if he was struggling to find the right words. Finally, he spoke, his voice low and drawn out. "I think I'm going to go upstairs to eat breakfast."

"Yeah, that's. . . fine, I'll eat here."

He made his exit, dragging his feet as he went. As I ate my breakfast, the crunch of my cereal filled the room with an uncomfortable quiet. Escape seemed to be the only option, so I headed to the living room to indulge in my guilty pleasure: reality television. The loud, passionate arguments and over-the-top displays of affection, mixed with the quick cuts of footage, were enough to keep me captivated.

I heard the sound of his shoes coming down the stairs and moments later, the clatter of his plate in the sink. I sensed that he was coming to find me. Soon he was standing at threshold.

"So how was your breakfast?" he asked, trying to ease the tension.

"Good thanks. How was yours?"

"It was good. Thank you." This conversation was becoming more and more uncomfortable as the small talk failed to lighten the atmosphere.

"It's no problem at all. You've gotta eat right? I'm not about to let you go hungry and put the funeral option back on the table." I rambled, trying to lighten the mood. He gave me a brief, forced smile concealing his true feelings before making his escape.

He nodded, "Next one's on me!", then seemed to regret it, mumbling, "Well, um, yeah, I'm gonna go back upstairs."

He was obviously sorry for his mistake, but it was more than that. His sorrow was almost tangible, like he wanted to take it all back. I struggled to bring up my relatives or my history; my mind often fabricated a scenario in which my family hadn't died, but were living in an area with no access to mobile communication.

On a regular basis, I found myself drifting off into a better world in my thoughts, a stark contrast to the harsh reality I had to face. I had no family to turn to, and mornings were often difficult, as I was reminded of my loneliness.

I had to carry on with mundane chores such as washing dishes, laundry, and taking out the trash knowing fully well that it would not bring back those I had lost. A thick, foggy sensation clouded my sight as I felt salty liquid trickling down my cheeks. I had to come to terms with the fact that nothing ever will.

I wrapped myself up in the comforting embrace of a weighted blanket, a purchase recommended by my therapist to improve my sleep quality. Despite my attempts to be open and honest with her, I found myself unable to speak outright, instead having to use metaphors and changing names.

I was teetering on a precarious tightrope, and with every challenge I encountered, the gap between the two sides became even more difficult to traverse. Wesley was cheering me on from the sidelines, providing me with the assurance that I could conquer this daunting task. Despite the fact that he had been reliable thus far, I was aware that he would not remain constant in the future because of my track record. Tears streamed down my face, cascading in a continuous flow that mirrored a never-ending waltz. It drenched the throw pillow that I had pressed against my face in a desperate attempt to muffle my sobs.

I snuggled into the warmth of the weighted blanket, feeling an immediate sense of calmness and relaxation wash over me. Its calming embrace felt like a hug that brought with it a soothing sense of security. With the gentle pressure of the blanket, I found my mind and body settling into a deep state of tranquillity. I was able to drift off into a peaceful sleep, feeling more relaxed and rejuvenated than ever before.

As the sun began to set, a radiant golden hue illuminated the room, making me acutely aware that the evening was upon me. Rising from my sofa, I realised that I had neglected to pause the episode and it had continued to play. I didn't have the energy to worry about that now, so I moved around the house, closing each blind to shut out the evening sun.

I arrived at the guest bedroom, my hand poised to knock on the door, yet I hesitated. I was concerned that if the current situation persisted, I would be unable to keep him here. It was a dilemma that I would face when the timing was right.

Thanks for reading <3 I love Lana del Rey!! What is yours? Mines Cinnamon Girl.