Two of a Kind (Vance Hopper)

Chapter 13.

      The two teens stared at each other for a moment, each trying to comprehend what was going on. She broke the eye contact first, shakily standing as adrenaline still rushed through her veins. As she stood up, the blonde moved around the tree to get a better look at her. What he saw had him ready to commit murder. Her skin was already bruising, areas that had been hit multiple times had split open, her nose was already swollen, lip split, and blood covered her. He rushed over to her side and went to lead her back to his house. He grit his teeth as he dragged her behind him. If he had just talked to her, if he hadn't stormed off, she might have been able to avoid this. 

     She didn't fight him on this, too shaken up to actually put up a fight. She followed him, watching the ground as they walked. She swallowed thickly, trying to fight off the tears in her eyes. She wouldn't cry. She wasn't that weak. "I'm sorry," she said softly, her voice raspy from screaming in pain. Hearing her apologize shocked him. He looked at her, taking in just how broken she looked combined with the apology. Dammit. Where was he when this was going on? He shook his head at her, quickly getting her inside of his house. He walked her over to his bathroom, moving to get a washcloth. She leaned against the counter, too ashamed to even look at him at the moment. 

     "I don't want you going back there. He'll kill you one day," he muttered, shocking the female. He gently helped her sit on the counter before moving to clean some of the blood off of her. She looked like hell. He gently brushed the cloth over her skin, trying not to hurt her but even the softest touch ached. She looked at him, watching him as he focused on her wounds. 

     "Why are you helping?" She asked him, catching him off guard. He paused, looking up at the female on the counter. He shrugged, trying to figure it out for himself. He had no reason to care. They hadn't even been on speaking terms at this point. He moved to rinse the blood soaked washcloth, avoiding her eye contact. 

     "Cause we're two of a kind, Bottle Bitch," he started, finding truth in his words. They were just alike. They reflected each other perfectly. He looked up at her, smirking slightly at his thoughts. "You're someone I tolerate, and I think I'd like to keep you around, at least a little longer," he teased, trying to lighten the mood. He paused for a moment, realizing that she probably didn't want to stay in blood covered clothes. He walked out of the bathroom, coming back a few moments later with a pair of sweatpants and one of his infamous wife beaters. He held them out to the female who hesitated for a moment before taking the clothes from him. She looked at him and gave him a weak smile. 

     "Thanks," she whispered, waiting until he left the room before starting to change. She refused to even look in the mirror. She knew it was bad, worse than usual, and she didn't want to the damage. The new scars that would cover her. She opened the door and walked into the bedroom, moving to go sit in the chair that she had claimed previously. The blonde rolled his eyes at her and stood in front of her, blocking her way. She looked up at him, confused. He pointed to he bed, making his intentions known without even having to say anything to her. 

     She didn't even have the energy to fight him on this. She was exhausted, but she didn't want to go to bed. She knew what was waiting for her the moment she closed her eyes. She wasn't ready to see her old man again, not even in her dreams. She set down on the bed as Vance moved to grab another joint. He figured that she needed it at this point. He lit it and took a big hit before handing it over. She gratefully took it, taking a hit as she watched him settle down in the chair. She crossed her legs, coughing lightly as she let out a cloud of smoke. "I meant it though, I am sorry," she said softly, avoiding his eyes as he watched her. 

      He leaned forward and flicked her forehead lightly, trying to not hurt her any worse. "I told you not to apologize for dumb shit, didn't I?" He asked, rolling his eyes at her. She gave a small chuckle and nodded, hitting the joint once more. She needed this. She felt safer here than anywhere else, which she found ironic considering who she was with. 

     "Yea. You did," she agreed, smiling weakly at him. He grinned at her, feeling the tension between them slowly start to fade. He would never admit it, not even to himself, but he had missed the angry little redhead these past few days. He was happy they were talking again, although he wasn't happy about why they were talking. Just thinking about it made him angry, and he knew she didn't need that right now. He could tell she was exhausted. "When is your dad going to be home? I'll leave before then," she offered, causing him to furrow his brows at her again. 

      "You're not leaving. Don't worry about him, as long as he doesn't see you, we'll be good. You're staying here. If you go back, he'll kill you," he stated, leaving no room for discussion. She narrowed her eyes at him, taking another slow drag in order to keep her mouth shut. She knew he was right, that one day her father was going to kill her if she wasn't careful. She knew this, but she didn't want to have to depend on him more than she had to. She looked out of his window, pausing. "Go to sleep, you look like shit," he stated bluntly, getting up. His comment earned him a glare as she flipped him off, causing him to chuckle at her. 

      He headed towards the door, plans already going through his head about what he would do to her father when he heard the girl behind him. "Don't leave. Please." He almost missed the last part of her sentence it was so quiet. He turned to look at her as she hit the joint once more, her hand trembling as she did so. She felt weak, asking for him to stay like this. She glanced over at him before looking at his bed spread. "Just don't leave, okay?" She whispered softly. He sighed, looking at the door before moving to sit beside her on the bed. They stayed like this for hours, just sitting in a comfortable silence until he felt her head on his shoulder. She had fallen asleep. He looked at her and gave a soft smile, happy to have her back.