Love You More

chapter five - take care

Alice lay on Vincent's living room sofa while he prepared her a small bowl of fruit and a cup of juice.

He had begged her to eat and drink something of substance so she could knock off her slight buzz. She agreed to appease him.

He had told her to make herself at home since she was always welcome in his house, as the daughter of a business partner and a sinless girl he had personally vowed to protect.

However, she was too sleepy and aghast to allow herself to do so.

She leaned her head on the plush cushions, ignoring how doing so made her wavy hair frizz up at the contact. Trying not to doze off, she distracted herself by thinking of her phone call with John.

She pulled out her phone, opening her messages. She typed out: I'm sorry, John. I'll make it up to you. I promise! I love You <3.

In the mere moments after the blurb had been sent, text appeared beneath it, telling Alice that John had at least read the message.

Three dots popped up, dancing, making her heart beat quickly with anticipation.

Nearly as fast as they had emerged, they dematerialized. Alice frowned.

She prayed that she could find a good enough present to earn his forgiveness by the time he visited. She would hate for him to be so angry with her during the one week she got to see him in person.

She put her phone down as she heard Vincent's assertive yet soft footsteps approaching the living room.

"Sweetheart," he sang quietly as he entered the open area, holding a glass of orange juice and a plain ceramic bowl of watermelon, honeydew, and cantaloupe he'd cut for her.

He held the glass out to her as he sat on the loveseat parallel to the sofa and placed the bowl on the coffee table separating them.

"Can you drink this for me?" he asked sweetly as Alice sat up. She nodded, not because she had a hankering for orange juice that Friday afternoon, but because she wanted nothing more than to make Vincent happy.

Lifting the glass to her rosy lips, she allowed her eyes to fall shut and enjoy the bitter taste of the drink, not blind to the newfound privilege of a drink that didn't cause her pain as it went down.

After a large draft, she set the cup down on the coffee table next to the bowl.

The corner of Vincent's mouth quirked upward. "Good, now eat," he softly ordered, but it was still his hand that reached for the fork to stab the first chosen square of fruit. He raised it up to her, "Open."

Alice opened her mouth and took the chunk of watermelon into her mouth. And Vincent watched the entire time, admiring how her cheeks turned a shade of pink when she noticed.

She looked away as she chewed, leaning back on the couch. She was borderline mortified that she was letting this man feed her in his own esteemed home that was a show of his accomplished life.

She didn't think it was possible to feel any more babyish around Vincent, but somehow he had found a way.

The feeling was only multiplied and magnified by the small fuzziness still residing in her head.

Vincent reached across the table to leave the tiniest brush of a touch on her knee. A touch he knew was appropriate for their dynamic, but still left a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

"C'mon, a little more, honey," he tenderly asked of her, knowing the more she ate the better she'd feel.

When she failed to comply immediately, he stood and decided to sit closer to her so she couldn't refuse so easily.