Purple Rain (Vincent X Reader)

The Nightshift

I knew by midnight Vincent would be well into sleep so that was the time I decided to return "Home" if I could even call it that anymore.

The drive home was long, cold, and lonely. I aimlessly watched as streetlights passed me by, not another car in this small town was on the street. When I reached the house my stomach dropped to my feet. I had no desire to enter that place, to see him again. Yet I did it, I made just one more bad decision on top of the many I already had in my life. I shakily reached out a hand, unlocking the door and creaking it open. I was greeted by the smell of cinnamon and lavender incense, a normally calming smell that now did nothing but remind me of him.

As I approached the living room I saw Vincent, asleep on the couch, one arm falling off of the couch, the opposite leg propped up on the neck of the couch. His face was tear-stained, he had obviously just finished crying. The sight made my heartache. I couldn't take staring at the man any longer, so I rushed upstairs to my room. I couldn't bear to sleep in his room as I had been. It would make my stomach turn. Sleeping in a killer's bed. Hell, it grossed me out to even be in his house. I just didn't have anywhere else to go.

I didn't even bother changing or brushing my teeth. I was emotionally exhausted and couldn't handle having to do more than the bare minimum. So I dropped my keys on the mahogany nightstand and threw myself onto the bed. I laid face down for what felt like hours until I eventually drifted off to sleep.

I awoke early in the morning to the sound of the phone ringing. I glanced over at the alarm clock on my bedside.

6:04 AM It read.

I groaned, pulling myself out of my uncomfortable and frankly inefficient sleep. I groggily stumbled through my room, down the stairs, and to the landline hung on the wall next to the kitchen. I glanced into the living room, the couch lacked a Vincent but the house remained silent. Not a floorboard creaked. The phone eerily rang throughout the house. He must be in his room.

I shook my head to knock myself out of my thoughts, picking up the phone.

"Hello? Vincent?" It was Boss.

"No, it's Y/n."

"Ah great! Y/n. That makes this so much easier. You're working the night shift with Vincent tonight. Be sure to tell him. I know you requested time off, but Mike called in sick and Scott is already working a double."
I sighed, "Mhm, sure thing."

"Thank you-"
I hung up the phone before he could finish.

'Great, just great. This was just what I needed. To be locked in a tiny room with Vincent for six hours.' I thought to myself sarcastically.

I grunted to myself before plopping myself onto the couch. There was no hope of going back to sleep now. I had to wake up in a half-hour to make myself breakfast on time. Sure, I'd be exhausted all day, but I couldn't ruin my sleep schedule. Not until I was consistently working the night shift again. Which hopefully never had to happen again.

I picked up the remote off of the cream-colored couch cushions and flicked through channels. Eventually, I settled on (Favorite Show). It was enjoyable. I was having a relaxing time, drifting off to sleep once more before I heard footsteps down the stairs. I quickly snapped my head in the direction of the noise. There, at the base of the stairs, stood Vincent.

I immediately turned my head to ignore him, glancing at the clock. 6:32.

'Shit, I'm late to make breakfast.' I thought to myself.

I stood up, walking toward the kitchen only to be stopped by Vincent. He stood in front of me, towering over my small figure.

"Y/n, can we please talking about this?" He questioned, clearly hurt.

I groaned, I couldn't handle this. Not on an empty stomach.

"Vincent, what in god's name is there to talk about? You murdered those poor kids."

He stood, dumbfounded at my outburst.

I shoved my way past him, into the kitchen, and grabbed a pop tart from the cupboard.

He followed behind me and rested a hand on my right shoulder. I whipped my head around, pop tart in my mouth.

"What in the fuck do you want?" I screamed, immediately shoving his hand off of me.

"I just want to talk..." He spoke quietly.

I sighed, nodding in agreement. I knew he wouldn't leave me alone until I listened to him. He had the power in this relationship. If he could kill them, I knew he sure as hell could kill me.

I made my way to the small, bench-like table in the corner of the kitchen. My Favorite place to sit. I sat in the corner by the window, Vincent sat across from me, hands folded on the table like this was a business meeting.

"Now, Y/n, I'm sorry. I should've never told you, but I want you to know I'd never hurt you-"

Relief washed over me. Hearing that made me just a small bit more comfortable.

"-but I can't have you telling anyone or there will be consequences. Understand me?"

I swallowed hard, not wanting to know what said 'consequences' were. I nodded, in agreement.

"Good. Now, I don't expect you to forgive me, but I want you to give me a chance. I'm a different person now that I've met you."

I shook my head.

"Vincent, I don't know if I can ever forgive you. I'm sorry." I stood up from the table, leaving the room.

I paused in the doorway, "We have the nightshift tonight" I said. I then continued my venture to the living room. Sitting down and watching TV once more. Happily, (Favorite Show) was still on. At least you could relax with that. Right?

Now if only I didn't have to work the nightshift...