[⋆˙🔦⟡] vanessa oneshots

together

/ slight mike x vanessa, can be seen as platonic or romantic. feel free to skip! just had to get this out of my system

Vanessa awoke from her bed, feeling startled as she sweats. She just had a nightmare about her- her father. She loathes him. How she still could feel the ghostly hand of her father as he held the knife to her stomach.

She runs her hand across the scar, she hates it. Hate how it'll always be a reminder of who she is. Her thoughts were broken by a knock on her bedroom door.

"You okay, Vanny?" A voice came out from the other side of the door- and she focuses herself on- Vanny, vanny?

"Hey, Vanny."

His voice lingers in the back of her mind. It's always been him, it always is William. And she doesn't want to be him, doesn't want her life to be tainted by nothing but him. But it's difficult, because she's just like him, he's in her blood- it runs in the blood, watching over her every second of her life, and she doesn't know what she is, don't know if she's real if he's not here. Or anyone.

"I'm fine, Mike." What a lie.

"Is this about, your dad?" Mike hesitates as he slightly opens the door, wide enough to let the living room light to reach the room.

"No," There's a slight pause between the words. "No-" And Vanessa could laugh there and then, how stupid she was for lying for no reason at all. "I look fine, don't I?" She looks up, seeing him standing on the doorway. And she isn't asking anymore, she's convincing herself.

"I'm sorry, Mike." She forces a smile, tears welling in her eyes. "I-I don't know what's wrong- with me." Vanessa stammered, trying not to let out a sob.

"Vanny, it'll be oka-" His words were interrupted before he could finish them.

"Don't call me that." Vanessa cried out. "Don't ever call me that again." She yelled as Mike walked over, now stopping in his tracks.

"Vanessa." Mike corrected himself, he's looking at her, softly, as he holds her hand. She kept her head down, eyes fixed on his hand and how soft it is, easing up a little.

And Vanessa despises it, despises how he- how he's still being nice. Even when she yelled at him, when all she ever did was being a hassle, oh, but he cares. And Vanessa never felt that before, to be loved for no reason.

"Sorry, Mike." That was the second sorry she said today, still squeezing Mike's hand, and she meant it this time. "Don't be." He's nice, he really is. And they stay like that for a while in silence, occasionally broken by the sound of birds chirping.

"What do you say, breakfast?" He asked out of nowhere. "Sure, Mike."