Eunoia 2 [{V.H}]

8

Vinnie

"I love you." Her sweet words echo in my mind, making my heart speed up it's pace and warmth envelope me.

But Kitty fades away, and I flutter open my eyes to the curtains shut in an unfamiliar setting.

I sit up right quickly, unaware of my surroundings until it comes flooding back to me that we're in Maine. I sigh and sit on my knees as I run my fingers through my hair, a tired yawn escaping my lips.

When I open my eyes from my yawn, I come to the realization, as well, that I'm in bed on my own.

Kitty.

I about jump out of the bed, the blankets tangling around my legs and tripping me up as I try to scurry out of the room to find her as fast as I can. My heart faces as I reach out open bedroom door, the blanket finally coming off my right foot and I look up and down the hallway for any sign of her, but find none.

She left. She had to have. I told her my deepest darkest secret and she fucking left because she couldn't handle it. I don't blame her at all-

Stop it, Don't scare yourself or her. She's got to be around here somewhere, she wouldn't just leave... But this isn't like her to just leave me in the room on my own.

I hurriedly walk down the hallway to the staircase, down to the second floor and when I reach it, the jingling of a collar catches my attention. I stop in my tracks and look over the banister where the noise came from to find Kitty sitting on the living room couch.

She stares up at me, the knowing look on her face that I was panicking to find her written across her expression.

I stare at her, not caring that she sees me doing so as I inspect the state that she's in. Her hair is up out of her face in a ponytail, and instead of not wearing her glasses, she's got a brown pair resting on her nose. She's dressed, in a dark brown maxi skirt and a cream colored sweater that hands off her shoulder, showing off a white bralette. Her feet are pulled up onto the chair with her, and an open book sits on her lap, along with Hera who's squished in there while Finch lays lazily at where her feet should be.

She looks tired, but I can't believe it. She looks like she put some effort into how she looked today— like herself, her gorgeous self.

Did she do this because of what I told her?

I lean against the railing and ask, "Did you sleep at all?"

She shrugs her shoulders and pushes her glasses up off her face to the top of her head, "A bit."

Great. That means she didn't sleep a wink.

I don't know why I told her, but now I completely regret it. She's got to be upset as hell, especially to be reading that damn book over again.

She closes up her favorite copy of 'all the bright places', and asks me, "How'd you sleep?"

I shrug my shoulders at her and back off from the railing, removing myself from her sight by walking behind the wall.

A couple months ago, I would've removed myself entirely from being around you. Anytime I'd find myself wanting to get closer to you, I'd go to the bar and fuck someone else to get you out of my head. Now your deep inside my mind, and you know almost every dirty little secret about me.