The Stampede ~Vash x OC AU~

Chapter 22: Never Regret

Kanyon

The bruise on my side has morphed, fading from an ugly blackish purple to a foul greenish, to now a faint grayish shade, and it's shrinking. It's still large for a bruise, but compared to before, it is smaller. What once stretched the length of my ribs to my hip now covers my lower ribs and stops just above my hip. And though it looks better, it is still tender to the touch.

I wince as my fingers glide over one of the broken ribs and hiss, cursing myself for pressing too much. Still, despite the discomfort, I am glad to know my body is doing exactly what it's supposed to – healing.

I'm still in the midst of observing my injury when a soft knock comes upon the door, followed by Vash's gentle voice calling through the wood. "Kanyon? Are you okay? We haven't heard or seen you yet today."

Suddenly, a lump forms in my throat and it feels as if all the words in the world become jumbled, and I cannot speak. But with every word he says, the more my heart leaps and the more I find myself stumbling.

"Kanyon?" he repeats. There is a quizzical, yet worried hint in his tone. "Kanyon, I'm coming in."

Before I can utter a single word or reply, the door swings open, and Vash stumbles in, searching the room when his eyes land on me.

Within an instance, the air becomes electric, and I can feel the simmering tickle my skin as my breath lodges itself into my throat. And I think he feels it too because I notice the way his chest suddenly rises and falls heavily.

His eyes observe mine, searching deep and wide before slowly falling, drifting to my exposed abdomen, and then his face flushes red and he quickly turns, stammering, "S-sorry! I didn't realize you were getting dressed."

I smile, "It's fine. Besides, it's not as if you haven't already seen it all."

I didn't think it was possible, but the redness of his face increases, burning crimson as it stretches to his ears. I smile, dropping the material of my shirt, covering myself as I speak.

"Relax. I'm decent."

Slowly, he turns, bringing his eyes back to mine. His cheeks are still dusted by scarlet, but he seems more at ease now. But I feel it. That zapping in the air as our eyes meet again. It sends chills down my spine, and I shiver.

He must notice because he asks, "Are you cold?"

On this godforsaken planet, being cold is the last thing a person can be. However, the AC hums, its chilled air growling through the vents, and suddenly, I have goosebumps.

I fidget with the hem of my shirt. "Maybe a little."

He nods, closing the door and coming closer. He takes steady strides, his eyes never leaving mine. With every step he takes, my heart leaps a little more and the air grows heavier.

He stands close to me, but not touching me, his body heat already radiating against me. Even without touching him, he feels warm. Or is this the memory from before? From having felt him pressed against me, his warm body scolding mine.

He reaches up, resting his palms on my shoulders, then runs them up and down my arm, creating a trail of heat. All the while, his eyes never leave mine. He swallows, "Does that help?"

I nod, "Yeah, a little."

"Are you cold anywhere else?" His voice is a whisper now, and his eyes are searching mine.

I bite my bottom lip thoughtlessly. "My back is a little cold."

"Your back? Okay."

Slowly, his hands start to move to my back, wrapping around me as he goes lower and lower. All the while, our eyes remain trained on one another, that electrical current still buzzing all around us.