DAZED AND CONFUSED | VANCE HOPPER

.Chapter 015.

I CRIED that entire night. Everything was blurry, a warm dinner, hiding under blankets watching television. I don't remember retreating into Vance's room and yet, here I awoke, sheets sticking to my sweat as I stare at the ceiling, reminiscing on the nightmare already fading from memory. Moonlight streamed through the broken blinds, shining silver streaks onto the white carpet and blue blankets.

My mouth was dry, and my skin was hot, my eyes shot. Swinging my legs over the side of the bed, I threw off the covers and tip-toed out of Vance's room. I caught a glimpse, through the crack of her bedroom door, Vance's mother sleeping soundly, hair kept in rollers, arm splayed delicately across the pillows, at peace.

Everything went red, I imagined grabbing her by the hair and snapping her pretty neck while Vance watched, a room away. I blinked, and stumbled back, gulping the vision away. That's not me.

"Vee?" Vance's voice came quiet and calm, a little shake being the only identifier that he might've been scared.

I turned and pushed hair out of my face. "Sorry, I just- nightmares, y'know? I need water."

He held out his hand, and at first I thought he was trying to grab mine, but instead it was clasped around a glass of water. "I kinda figured." His smile was lopsided and genuine.

I took the glass and drank, swallowing easy. "Thanks."

"Wanna... um, watch a movie or something? Get your mind off things." He asked, motioning for the couch reflecting the bluelight emitted from the telebision screen, as the muffled voices of Minnie and Mickey Mouse hushed over the quiet room.

I nodded, accepting defeat. I walked carefully to the couch and took my seat, leaning on the arm of the furniture, curled into a cold ball. Vance sat on the other side of the loveseat, keeping his distance, though his hand fell dangerously close to mine.  I stared at it,  and flexed my own, I wanted to know what his hand felt like. I wanted to see it chopped off and bloodied, to hear his terrified, painful screams.

No, no, no! I thought. Why is my brain doing this? Why am I turning into my father? My mother is right. I'm a monster.

"Vee? You okay?" Vance asked, his hand now clasped on mine.

It was enough to make me blush. I forced a smile. "I'm fine. What's on late night?"

"The Omen is on... but you just had a nightmare so I don't-" Vance took his hand off mine and placed it lazily in his own lap, sighing.

"I-... The Omen is fine. I like The Omen. Are you saying you can't take it?" I challenged, raising an eyebrow.

The corner of his mouth twitched. "No, no. I'm saying you can't."

I shoved him playfully. "Yeah, right!"

Instinctively, Vance grabbed my wrists, throwing himself forward, pinning me to the couch. A lump caught in my throat and my heart raced, my vision went blurry and my cheeks heated. I stared into his shocked eyes, hungry for something we both craved. A curl fell over his eyes, and I refrained from pushing it away, frozen in this moment of blissful terror. He closed his eyes, and his face fell closer to mine.

"Vance..." I whispered, turning my face away from him. "This isn't right. Not... not yet."

He blinked, startled, and sat up. Vance's hand found his hair and twisted at it awkwardly. "Right... yeah, sorry. Let's just... watch the movie.

I couldn't focus on the movie, all my mind drifted to was the almost-kiss, and then, to sleep. When I woke up, my head was laid gently in Vance's sleeping lap.