Is it possible?

Chapter 8

As promised, Vincent appeared at my doorstep the following morning, just as I was about to leave. I was unsure how he knew my address - perhaps he remembered it from years ago. Regardless, I couldn't help but flinch when I saw him standing there, eliciting a deep chuckle from him.

He looked drowsy, his eyes half-closed, and a hint of sleep still lingering in his demeanor. When he greeted me with a "morning," the rasp in his voice was unmistakable. His movements were slow, as if he hadn't fully awakened yet.

I've always found raspy voices appealing—can you blame me? They are hot.

Come on, Alicia, this isn't the time to be swooning over Vincent's voice.

Shaking off the thoughts, I plastered a smile on my face and replied, "Morning," in return.

"Why are you blushing?" he asked, arching an eyebrow, his smirk growing wider.

It wasn't until I felt the heat creeping up my cheeks that I realized my face was flushed. My eyes widened, probably resembling golf balls.

Schnitzel. I was blushing.

"Uh, you know," I stammered, attempting to divert his attention, "it's probably all these layers. I'm feeling a little hot." I shot a forced smile his way, fully aware that he likely didn't buy my excuse, but desperately hoping he would drop the subject.

Honestly, I was starting to get very warm beneath the multiple layers I had donned that day, I was expecting extreme cold based on the weather app's prediction of -2 degrees.

His smirk transformed into a genuine smile. He turned away, shaking his head slightly, and muttered something to himself, something along the lines of "adorable."

Or perhaps he said something else entirely. I was convinced I suffered from partial deafness. There were moments when I had to make Rory repeat herself about seven times, and even then, if I didn't catch what she said, I would just laugh and pretend I understood her perfectly.

I trailed behind Vincent as he made his way to the car, a sense of ease washing over me as the aroma of his cologne filled the air. There was something about that scent that captivated me, making me wish it could accompany me everywhere I went.

"Oh! Your hoodie, let me just go grab it," I blurted out just as he opened the car door for me.

He gently clasped my hand before I could retreat. "Don't bother, it looks better on you than it ever has on me. You can keep it."

I felt my heart skip a beat. Was it because of the strange, electrifying sensation his touch sent through me, or was it the sheer disbelief that washed over me after he casually stated that I could keep his hoodie?

Like, WHAT??

"Uh, okay, you sure?" I managed to utter, unsure of how to respond.

He simply nodded before making his way to the driver's side, getting in and starting the car, initiating our journey to school.

As the days passed, I found myself growing increasingly comfortable in Vincent's presence, a sense of ease that oddly reassured me.

As we took off, I noticed a CD case lying by my feet and picked it up. I gestured towards the radio just as we came to a halt at a red light. Vincent glanced at the CD and then back at me, his expression uncertain, perhaps unsure of what I would think of his music taste. But judgment wasn't my style. I considered my taste in music rather basic, yet I embraced it as long as I enjoyed it.

With a casual shrug, I inserted the CD into the player, surprised that he had one considering the car also had an aux cord. Mental note: I'd have to use that option another day.