||ℭ𝔬𝔫𝔰𝔱𝔲𝔩𝔱 : 𝔙𝔦𝔫𝔫𝔶 ℌ𝔬𝔫𝔤 𝔵 𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯

15.0 || Ink

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"I want to talk to you but... I can't"

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Y/p
Song:  Tek it- cafuné
(Songs are optional)
(Narrative chapter)
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I don't know how I ended up in this situation, but one thing is for sure: Life always found a way to mess me up and then laugh at me.


"There's no space; I think I'll just stay at school." I shrugged, looking back at Jay, Minu, Shelly, Vinny, June, and Dom.

"We'll make space," Shelly argued, trying to move things around in the car but failing before I felt a tug on my wrist.

"You're arguing is so annoying," Vinny groaned, pulling you onto his lap and solving the problem in less than two seconds. It was like the first time I met him when he pulled me to go to the convenience store to heal my wounds.

He was always doing the pulling.

"See, easy," he said, and I could only let my lips part in shock once I sat on his lap.

The hell?

We've been arguing for minutes about the spots, and I don't mind him finding an easy solution, but sitting on his lap?

The team seemed to not really care as long as I was in the car with them, which caused them to drift away into their own conversation, yet I was still focused on the fact that I was on his lap.

I shifted uncomfortably from the close proximity; I could practically feel his breath fanning my neck and the warmth of his body.

Just when I couldn't take it anymore, Vinny leaned closer, his lips just over my ear and his eyebrows furrowed slightly before he spoke. "Stop moving so much. It's annoying," he rasped, and the feeling of his words echoing over my ears made me shiver.


My breath hitched, and his hands placed themselves on my hips, holding me down, only for me to look back at him to see he wasn't even paying attention to my suffering.

He was looking out the window like nothing was happening, and he wasn't killing me with his touch. My back was pressed against his chest, his hands were on my hips, and I could feel every movement he made and every breath he took.

He was so blissfully unaware, it hurt.

My eyes trailed Vinny's features from the corner of my eye, and as much as I hated to admit that I missed him, I did.

Since the first time I saw him, I knew there was something special about him that I couldn't place my finger on, and I thought that was friendship and even blatant hatred, but now, in this moment, I don't think it's either.

There's something there.

Something's running through my veins like ink on a sheet of paper, each movement precise and evoking an unknown emotion in my mind. My eyes scrunched, still looking at his face, trying to figure out what that something was, and his eyes met mine.

Those eyes that showed so much—the red and gray hues swirling around in them—barred his whole soul to me with just a glance.

There wasn't hate in them anymore.

His eyes were expressing something way beyond what I understood.

And I think mine were subconsciously doing the same. A mutual understanding that none of us could figure out seemed to have passed a signal through the transmitter.

If only I had the code for what the signal meant.


"You going to keep analyzing me with your eyes, Y/n/n?" He said it in a playful manner that took me off guard.

He hasn't even expressed the slightest bit of emotion other than indifference ever since the argument we had.

"If you let me figure you out, then I might," I said, staring directly at him, my gaze not leaving just because of his teasing manner.

I wanted to see if he was going to keep it up. Maybe there was a little glint of hope that we could return to being friends after all of it.


"Good luck with that; I can't even figure me out," he retorted with a plain shrug, making me roll my eyes.

"I think you're lying," I said, without even a tinge of regret. My answer was confident, something I could only do with him around for some odd reason.

Vinny didn't respond to that; instead, he let himself dive into the all-too-familiar solitude, leaving me back where we started.

The signal was gone.

But I couldn't let the moment end; I had to know what he meant when we decided to put a brick wall in between us.

I couldn't let him go, not when I..

Not when it hurts so bad without him.

"Vinny-" I started only to stop; my eyes met his once again, and I finally understood why the wall was made and why every time I saw him, I felt hatred and anger towards him.

So I stopped.

I stopped and let the wind swallow my words.



"Because you're like me..."

His words echoed in my mind like a mantra, and I finally understood what he meant that day—why we drifted apart in the first place.


He was like me, and I was like him.

If you hate yourself, how can you love others?

The signal was just our emotions bouncing off each other and engraving the truth onto our skin like a deep wound that no one could heal except you.

Hate is deep.

Hate is strong.

The inscribed ink of hatred transcends through our minds like a curse that can't be broken unless you pull at the weeds from deep in the ground.

I wish it was different.

I wish I were different.

I wish I didn't hate myself, so I couldn't hate him.

I wish the ink wasn't black.