Bon Appetit [Dead Plate Oneshots]

Bound to Falling in Love

TW: Angst, mixed with slight romance!

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His thumb brushed against the crumpled polaroid , the picture had been clumsily stuffed into his pockets numerous times. It was an image of him with Vince on his side; a grimace ever so obvious, a deep frown on his face— glaring at him for disrupting his work.

Rody lets out a small laugh, this was taken during his first month working at the bistro. Vince never smiled that much outside from his professional line of work, he'd show a charismatic smile in those newspaper clippings but he could tell Vince’s smile was stiff.

Speaking of the devil, his boyfriend stepped into their shared apartment. His perfect posture gone as he abruptly slouched his shoulders, the weight of the day's stress evident in the tension that radiated from his every step

The old polaroid now placed on the nightstand.

He only kept that formal and well mannered facade when eyes watched him, Rody knew how much his partner cared deeply for his reputation, even more than death.

“Evening handsome, rough time at work?” The brunette’s tone was soft, no longer brash or rowdy— just gentle. If you listened closely, there was a slight firmness to his tone as if his gentleness felt forced.

“Mhm.” Vince's only response was a weary sigh as he made his way to the couch, collapsing into it with a heavy thud. Rody's heart ached at the sight of his partner so exhausted, but he refused to be deterred and followed Vince like a lost puppy.

His eyes seemed to have withered under the strain of his responsibilities, leaving behind a man consumed by his own inner turmoil.

“By the looks of it, it does seem like a rough day.” The brunette showed a warm smile, hoping to offer some semblance of comfort. Though with the way how Vince looked at him— It felt like he was talking to a brick wall.

The tan skinned man sat next to Vince, he slowly moved closer to him but noticed his lover, straying a bit further away from him. Oh how Rody wished that Vince would lay his head on his shoulder instead of the pillow.

Vince’s pale hand clutched the pillow tightly, a hint of vulnerability showed in his blank demeanor for a second.

Rody approached cautiously and reached out to hold his hand. But as his fingers brushed against Vince's, the reaction was immediate and sharp.

"Don't," Vince muttered, attempting to slap Rody's hand away, his fear of touch manifesting in the harshness of his actions.

But Rody held on, his grip firm yet gentle, refusing to let go. He still kept on persisting.

"Why'd you stay with me for so long?" Vince's voice was barely a whisper, filled with confusion and a touch of bitterness. He preferred to be blunt.

"Because I love you" Rody replied, his affection had always been sincere, never the type to lie about his affection as well.
His voice unwavering and he played around with Vince's fingers, intertwining them together.

To Vince, when people say a word too much or too often, it cheapens the meaning.

“I—I loved you enough to let you tear me into pieces.” Rody’s tone wasn't one out of desperation nor infatuation, rather it sounded like someone that endured hardships, one who's tone sacrificed so much to fight for the ones he loved even when he had to go through immense pain.

Vince, upon hearing that, could only hold his head down low in shame.