Vincent slumped back against his wall, his throat closing up on him. He let out a choked gasp, hiccuping to himself. Only himself.
He was alone.
I would rather not go
Back to the old house
I would rather not go
Back to the old house
Vincent slid his hands along the front desk. He looked over the few sheets that sat there, waiting for his signature. He didn't intend on doing them, not quite yet.
He had more pressing matters at the moment.
His head perked up when he heard the familiar tone from behind him. A smile spread across his face.
"Morning, darling," he mumbled as Scott approached next to him. Scott gave him a disgruntled look, and muttered some form of a good morning. Too low for Vincent to catch.
It stuck in his heart anyways.
"Did you do the reports I left for you? I emailed them a few days ago."
Vincent had seen. He sat there in front of his computer, pondering over the small note Scott had left attached to the documents.
[Vincent,
Here's a few documents that need to be filled in by the end of the week. Email them back to me, or print them out and hand them to me. Whichever works. Thanks.
-Scott.]
It was an innocent note, strictly business. But it was for him. A note from Scott to him and nobody else. Nobody else.
Just them.
And he read over it, again and again. He tried to imagine how his name looked in Scott's handwriting.
Probably beautiful.
Scott was beautiful.
"I saw," Vincent mumbled, turning to Scott. He leaned against the desk, tilting his head. "Haven't gotten to them yet. I've-"
"Vincent I need them by tonight."
"I know that. I know. Just been busy," Vincent tapped his fingers against the desk. A grin crept onto his face. "Maybe... with the right compensation, I could get them to you sooner?"
Scott stared at him, entirely deadpan. "Vincent. I need the documents. By tonight."
Vincent sighed, his shoulders falling gently with his breath. "You're no fun."
"You're no help."
There's too many bad memories
Too many memories there
"Scott?"
Vincent and Scott both turned their heads at the same time, glancing over towards the doors of the pizzeria. Scott's face brightened, and he moved to leave from behind the counter.
"Tabs!"
The young lady ran up to Scott, holding onto his forearms.
Vincent felt his heart ache.
Who was she?
When you cycled by
Here began all my dreams
The saddest thing I've ever seen
Scott smiled down at her, a warmer smile than he had ever smiled at Vincent.
Don't look at her like that.
Look at me like that.
Look at me.
Please.
"I missed you," Scott said gingerly, a hand coming up to cup her face.
No. No, No.
And you never knew
How much I really liked you
Vincent let out a small sob, pressing his back roughly against his wall. His face burned from the tears. Why did he have to look at her like that?
Why did he have to kiss her like that?
Because I never even told you
Oh, and I meant to
Vincent stumbled over to his computer desk, waking it to reveal the email.
He read over it again,
And again
And again.
Are you still there or have you moved away?
Or have you moved away?
Scott... did he send her messages too? Did the message Scott sent him mean nothing at all? Did Scott even think of him?
Did he think over his words like how Vincent did when he wrote him back?
Did he reread his own message, thinking about how Vincent would take it?
Did he think about Vincent at all?
Or was that honor strictly reserved for her.
The thought made Vincent sick to his stomach.
A notification popped up in his inbox. A new message. A new message from Scott.
I would love to go
Back to the old house
But I never will
[Vincent,
Please send me those files soon. I'll be going out tonight and won't be able to look over them after 8. Thanks.
-Scott]
Vincent choked, hands balling into fists. His eyes welled up, no longer able to dwell over Scott's words.
He put his head down on his desk, and screamed.
I never will
I never will
