STAR STRUCK: epilogue continues (book 2)

Chapter 11

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Chapter 11

Untangling Strings

still 19 days before take-off

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What now?

Vincent looked surprised, then nervous when I brought up the offer of staying the night.

"Come on, it's just one night," I reasoned out. "Besides, I shared this room with Rigel once. He might've been a bit of a handful, but I don't think I'm like that. I owned this room back then too."

"That time was different," he said, an attempt to drill some sense into me. He sighed in defeat after giving it a thought.

He knows he'll never win on this one. I'm not that proud about it but I'm left with no choice but to guilt trip him into this. All that crying before is paying off. A girl's tears are a boy's weakness as far as I know.

There's also the thing with my dad. I'm already in trouble by the looks of it. I don't see the need to appease him when it'll all boil down to the same thing.

"Fine," Vincent finally relented. "But you're sleeping on the floor with the extra mattress."

"Uh, rude? Has no one taught you how to properly treat a lady?"

"Not a gentleman, princess," he teased.

I huffed but took the offer anyways. Anything's better than home right now.

--

In the end I slept on the bed. Well, my old bed which is now supposed to be Vincent's. It didn't make sense for him to back down from his word, but he did. 

I had little to none of any fond memories within this bedroom. It was more of an escape than a home, a temporary refuge if you will. It did not make up for the warmth that I was missing but it provided me with shelter and that was more important.

I was a rebelling teenager. It didn't matter if I was living inside a room with paint peeling walls. 

I did not mind if my mattress was not soft enough or that I only had enough space to roll over it once. It was better compared to my old bed. Although that one was queen sized and more than enough for me, it also had cold sides filled with so much empty space. 

What I needed didn't have to have comfort into the package. So, what was this?

The scent is different from what I can remember. The blanket is softer than what I was familiar with as well. Did he use a different detergent? A flower smelling fabric softener perhaps? I never thought about using those. 

But apart from that, why does it feel so different? It feels... warm.

When have I ever been warm in this bed? Perhaps once a few nights, just recently too. But again, this time feels different. 

My mind tells me I have to bring my guard up and yet something inside me wants to relax. 

"I can't sleep like this," I murmured, softly so that Vincent wouldn't wake up. It's almost past midnight. I'm sure he's already fast asleep. 

I look over at the floor where he was. He looked cold huddled in with just one pillow and that extra mattress that I know has not been washed for ages. I have not seen it once since the day I moved in. He must be uncomfortable. 

As I look at his sorry form, I slowly felt guilty. It did not take long for me to question my choice to take up space where I was not supposed to.

I didn't belong here anymore. There was no need to take refuge as well. I had this solid excuse about my dad scolding the hell out of me and a moment ago I was sure I was doing the right thing by being a little bit rebellious like I was in the past. Now I was just being a brat, exactly like I was in the past.