Chef's Kiss

Chapter Six

TW: SELF-HARM + BLOOD AND GORE, SKIP TO  ♡ · ♡ · ♡ · ♡ · ♡ IF YOU ARE UNCOMFORTABLE WITH SUCH TOPICS

Why?

Why did Vincent have to feel this way?

Just why?

He had woken up with Rody- his waiter- in his arms. That morning was pretty awkward for both of them, and in around half an hour, they both had to head to work. First of all, he shouldn't have had Rody- who was his literal worker- in his house overnight. Second, they technically slept together- not in the way Vincent wanted, but nonetheless, Vincent had slept, although not sexually, with his waiter.

But that wasn't even the worst part. The worst part was that- Vincent wanted... more. 

Vincent was in denial for a while now- he knew he was gay, he just needed time to decide his feelings. He realized that he killed Manon partly because of how much he cared for Rody, but mostly because he was jealous. He also realized why he kept sneaking glances at Rody while his face turned red when he was around him. He realized why whenever Rody touched him, his heart sped up until he could practically hear it thumping in his chest. Vincent was pretty knew to romantic feelings, as he had never really been in love before- He had been in relationships, but had never really got to experience the feeling of love. And he also realized why he felt like he knew what love felt like now- Before, he thought it was a waste of time. Vincent would most likely never find his happily ever after, but now, he suddenly knew what it felt like to love? All these realizations were pretty overwhelming to Vincent, but it all added up. It made him realize the bigger picture- he didn't like Rody.

He loved Rody. He was hopelessly in love with a man that would never love him back- especially after that man figures out what Vincent had done.

Gray clouds covered the sun resting at its highest point in the sky. Vincent walked into his office. He felt blank- he needed to feel something- he hated this feeling, of being in love- but loved it at the same time. It was beautiful and glorious feeling- yet miserable, lonely, and heartbreaking at the same time.

 Vincent grabbed a glass and smashed it against the floor. 

He wasn't just in love- he was jealous. Manon was dead- yet seeing how much Rody actually loved her- and probably still loved her- made him not only guilty, but jealous. He knew it was wrong, but he couldn't stop himself from feeling that way. He picked up a large shard of glass from the floor, and without a moment's hesitation, rolled up his sleeve and sliced downwards.

The first few cuts were painful- that was an understatement. They were painful as fuck. This was mostly because he had no hesitation of caution at all- He was striking down at his arm repeatedly with all his strength, the cold glass breaking his skin and cutting through his flesh, overwhelming him with pain that he knew he deserved. However, Vincent needed to feel something besides the aching, dull feeling in his heart, and this was the perfect distraction. Yet it wasn't even half as painful as what he felt internally.

Shit. Blood started to flow from Vincent's open scars. It trickled down his arm and a few droplets landed on his outfit. He was going to have to change his uniform after this... luckily, he had a spare. He didn't stop. 

The room was completely silent. Any other person would have screamed or cried from the pain, but Vincent stayed silent, refusing to stop and cutting down, over, and over, and over, and over again.