Shadows of the Pitch- a Virgil Van Dijk Fan fiction

Chapter 3: Kind.

I flicked on the light switch to my night engulfed studio flat, apprehensive to what his reaction was going to be. Stepping in, I watched his shoulders relax as he looked around. God knows what was going through his head, I could feel my face burn red from embarrassment.

Suddenly, he laughed.

'Your place has a nice view.' He said, walking over to the window. The flat was pretty high up in the building, practically a Birds Eye view of the parks, the markets, the night clubs.

I scurried past the piles of mess on my floor to his side, looking out the window alongside him. 'The place has its perks.' I stared out, seeing our reflections next to each other. The fact that this was a complete stranger in my flat that not even my closest friends have been in, it should have felt wrong, but it really didn't. There was so many questions I wanted to ask him, with no idea to start.

'You don't think I'm a slob, or anything... Do you?' I looked up to him, almost worried on what he would respond with.

'No, I rarely get time to clean either. It would be wrong to judge.' Our eyes met again, and I swear I could feel electricity in my body. It made me laugh a little.

I couldn't help but notice that he had a stern, cold expression on his face that would fade as soon as we would look at each other. I felt complimented, and nervous.

I shuffled my feet on the floor, pushing some flakes of wood into a corner while we continued to look out the window.

'So... Mr Virgil.' I smirked. 'I feel like a bit of an asshole that I didn't even know your name until like, 10 minutes ago.' I started fiddling with my thumbs before hearing him laugh.

'It never really came up in conversation. How about we properly introduce ourselves?' He replied casually, sticking out his hand as if he wanted me to shake it.

'I'm Virgil, I'm 31.'

'I'm Constance, I'm 25.'

Then, our hands touched. I felt like a teenage girl, talking to her crush for the first time.

'You have a very pretty name, Constance.'

I blushed instantly, and couldn't help but smile.

'Ha, thank you. You can call me Connie, Con... My friends like to call me Constable or Stan but-'

'I like Connie.' He chuckled, pulling his hand away from mine. 'So the paint shop owner, he makes you dinner every night?'

'Mr Khan?' I chuckled, walking over to the bag of food he had made me that I would now have to share with Virgil. 'He worries too much. Thinks I don't eat enough. '

'Is that right?' Virgil questioned, folding his arms sarcastically. He gave me a look that I can only describe as when a mother catches their child in a lie. He seemed a bit concerned, which was a little heart warming. 'Well, he seems like a very nice man. What did he make you tonight?'

'Biryani, it looks like.' I replied, digging into the bag and placing the curry into the microwave. 'You know I'm not sharing, right?' I leant over the kitchen countertop miraculously splattered with paint, giving him the exact same look he gave me moments ago.

'So you're telling me...' Virgil started, slowly walking across my 'living room space' to meet me, face to face scowling and smirking at the same time. 'I bought you the paint, spent my entire day renovating an empty room for a complete stranger instead of training, walked you home, just to not get any food?' He pouted.

Honestly, I expected him to imply some sort of sexual favour. But I was relieved that the only thing he seemed interested in was food that Mr Khan made me.