Although it's the First Time

Chapter Nine: Birds

We arrived in his home.
Surprisingly, his family wasn't there.

He pulled me into his creamy white walled living room and sat me down on a powder blue couch.

"Stay," Vincent ordered.

"What am I? A dog?" I remember asking myself. I docilely followed his command anyway. I took off his cap and waited patiently.

After about three minutes, he returned with some ointment and a first aid kit in hand. I sat quietly as he took a seat across from me on the coffee table, setting the things down beside him.

"I'm fine. I don't need that," I tried to reject his help.

Paying no attention to me, he grabbed a cotton pad, dabbing it into a light brown cream. He raised his hand to my neck and gently rubbed the cotton pad across my injuries.

My heart began pounding against my ribs. His face was inches away from my neck and only a few more away from my chest. "He can probably hear every beat in this silence. Just stop beating!" I shouted in my head.

The birds in my stomach took flight.

"Ow! What the heck?" I hissed as I felt the laceration like cuts sting.

"You've got a few small cut on your neck.. You didn't feel it?" He asked, only looking at my neck.

"No," I softly replied.

He continued dabbing the cotton pad into the ointment, then rubbing it down my neck. He suddenly stopped at the nape of my neck and finally looked at me.

"What's that on your shoulder?" He asked cautiously, but stern.

"What's what?" I asked in return, in hopes of sounding oblivious.

"This," he harshly pulled my sleeve down to reveal my bruised shoulder.

Instinctively, I pulled my sleeve back onto my shoulder. "It's nothing, don't worry about it," I lied.

"No! That's a huge black-blue bruise that looks freaking painful!" He yelled, frustrated.

"Vincent, calm down. I can barely feel-"

"Is that why you were bleeding?" He cut me off. "You bit your tongue 'till it bled because your shoulder hurt? Is that why!" He shouted with more frustration.

"First off, it was my cheek. Secondly, why are you so mad? You're not the one with bruises. You're not the one having to sit here and listen to someone else harangue because of injuries inflicted by others!" I yelled back with the same amount of frustration.

Vincent stared at me with hurt tinted eyes. "I'm worried," he calmly stated.

"I was mad because you didn't tell me sooner. I was angry because it was my fault. I'm worried because you're hurt... I'm sorry," he continued softly with his head down.

Silence filled the room as I gazed at Vincent and he gazed at our feet.

"You gonna clean up the mess those fan girls left, or are you gonna continue sniffin' my feet?" I joked, attempting to get rid of the stiff atmosphere.

Vincent pulled his head up and shot me his classy toothy grins again.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~

By the time Vincent finished rubbing ointment and oils all over my bruises and cuts, it was already 3 in the afternoon. Of course we had spent a lot of the time arguing then goofing off to rid of the awkwardness.

"Where's your family?" I curiously asked.

Grinning he answered, "My old man left for a business trip and mom decided to take this opportunity to go on a mini vacation with her friends."