Waiting The World (Vincent X Reader) (Dead plate)

10: Laundry

 It's a relatively short walk home, but even so, it gives me time to think over the day. Why is Vincent so... nice to me? Why am I so nice to him? There's something about him that puts me at ease, but at the same time, I'm always jumpy around him. Soon enough, I'm back at my apartment, unlocking the door with a little bit of trouble and stepping in the room. Home sweet home... My home is a joke. I place his dish on the counter, looking around. I've got to wash this suit; I would hate to scare the customers because I smell like a dying cat.

I grab my washboard from off the wall, filling my basin with warm water. Luckily, I got a more upper class apartment building; some of the really shabby ones don't have bathrooms. Plus, I'm close to my job. And my neighbors are nice, too. I guess I should be more grateful for what I have. A sustaining job, a nice living condition, a thoughtful, kind-ish, sweet boss... I sigh, stripping my suit off and tossing it in the water, sitting next to it in my underwear. Let's just get this over with; I'm tired.

The water is comfortably warm, and scrubbing the clothes violently on the washboard is a great way to let out my anger! I can't help but think back to the way Vincent defended me today, and how kind he was, and how fun it was to talk to him... I can feel my face growing hotter at the thought of it. If I didn't know any better, I'd say you've got a little crush on the man. I immediately shake my head, trying to disperse the thought... He's your boss, after all; you are work accomplices, at most.

Soon enough, I'm done with my laundry. Not that it was a necessarily difficult task. Vincent still stands out though, a striking image in my head as I hang my clothes to dry. He's been oddly welcoming and kind to me, for an amateur waiter. Still, you've barely known him for three days. Your feelings could just be... conflicted. Don't decide on anything just yet. How do you even know if you REALLY like him? I can't really deny the effect he has on me though; he's so, oddly gentle with me, I can't help but feel nervous around him.

But that's what I should be focusing on now, is it? It's time for me to get ready for bed. I ready the basin at the door, before blinking. I need clothes. That would've been a bad idea. Sighing, my feet shuffle mindlessly to my room, placing me in front of my disappointingly empty closet. It'd be nice to have this closet filled to the brim; being spoiled by someone, or having the income to be stable. I'd love that. I throw on the first shirt and pants I can find, looking at the floor. I look around, grabbing an old pair of shoes and shoving my feet into them, before heading back to the door.

I lug the water bucket out the apartment, down the stairs, and finally out the front door. It's at times like this where I dislike not living on the first floor. Pouring the bucket out in the alleyway and quickly making my way back inside, I run up the stairs, purposely quiet to avoid getting yelled at by a cranky neighbor. If I had a nickel for every time I dumped a bucket of dirty water out today, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it's happened more than once. I shrug it off, stepping through the doorway and tossing my shoes to the side.

The rest of the night is a blur. Brushing my teeth, making my bed, tossing Vincent's dish into the fridge. I finally hop into bed, curling up comfortably with my blanket. It's been a long day. My brain is filled with so many thoughts, I can't keep track of them all, and instead, I decide to just close my eyes, waving off the chaos. One thing still floats around in my mind, even with the prevention methods; is Vincent doing alright? I'm conflicted over it. Half of me wants to worry about him, and the other thinks I'm weird. It's normal to care about your coworkers and boss, though... Right?

Right?

I open my eyes, cornfields spanning as far as I can see in front of me. The first thing I focus on, however, is the mindless chatter of a crowd, and the lack of people in view thereof. What in the-... An orchestra somewhere nearby plays a waltz, the steady beat and echoing sound drowning out the conversations, if only barely. Where in the world am I? My question is answered as I turn around.

In front of me, an extravagantly decorated hall stands, so insanely large I take a step back to see it all. Women in lavish, exorbitant dresses stand in front of and near the doors, whispering amongst themselves. Well dressed men in ornately decorated suits wander around, looking for dance partners with their friends. Looking down at myself I can't help but gasp at how extortionately I'm dressed. And my favorite color, too. This is some rich people stuff. With how hot I look, I feel like I could overpower a city, or at least a moderately large village.

Even with the small crowds outside, I figure the party is probably much bigger on the inside. Making my way politely through the crowds. C'mon, refreshments! I'm in need of refreshing! And a snack, those are good, too. I glimpse what seems to be a cupcake tower, immediately heading that direction before realizing it's some woman's very, very fancy hair. I don't have enough time to be embarrassed, though, before seeing the real refreshment table. Is it a little bit basic to hang out around the food table? Yes, absolutely. The difference between me and a basic person, however, is that I don't give an ounce of a shit.

The food is pretty alright, I guess. It's Obviously more on track to be some fancy rich people food, but why can't they afford flavor? I don't know. I don't even go near the drinks, though. I don't know what time period or stuff this dance is supposed to be in, but I don't trust it. Especially not after seeing some of the men flail around drunk after about five small cups worth. I'm pretty cool with just sitting around by the food; I've got a good view of the orchestra, easy access to food, and a pretty comfortable seat in a nook in the wall.

My eyes are trained on the orchestra, watching the instruments. One of the basses is glaring at one of the others with the wrath of an unfed cat, which means they look ready to tear something, or someone, apart. I'm startled out of my fantasy orchestra war world, though, as a gentle hand is placed on my shoulder. I turn around, confused, before falling dead in my tracks. In front of me, Vincent himself stands, smiling calmly. I just sit in amazement, my mouth open as I look at him; he knows what he looks good in, that's for damn sure. His black suit is simple in color, but extravagant designs of flowers and birds shimmer across the surface.

His hand takes mine, his grip gentle but strong as he brings his lips to my knuckles, grinning up at me.

"Hello, belle. Care to dance?"

Gosh, he knows what he's doing to me. FUCK, he's hot... I close my mouth, swallowing, before nodding slowly.

"O-of course, sir. I would love to dance with you."

He just chuckles, leading me by my hand to the floor. I let him drag me along without fighting him, still flustered by his earlier... Appearance, I guess. He glances back at me, before spinning me out onto the dance floor. He catches me, his hand sitting comfortably on my waist. I grab his hand, screaming happily inside as I smile softly. I'm holding his hand... Oh my goodness, I'm holding his hand! I place my other hand on his shoulder, meeting his eyes quietly before looking off to the side again.

"You look... Magnificent, to say the least."

"You look handsome, yourself, mister."

He raises an eyebrow, before rocking slowly back and forth. I follow his lead, doing my best not to trip over his feet. I feel ready to explode. The happiness this is making me feel is too much for my body. Vincent clearly sees the excitement in my eyes, smiling brighter as he spins me out.

"You're so happy... Do I make you that excited?"

I blush, looking around me. Everyone's attention is on us, strangely enough. I give him a questioning glance, but he doesn't look at it. The crowd starts whispering, most of their words too quiet to make out, but all of the comments aimed towards me. Even the orchestra stopped to stare at me. I start to pull away from him, my gaze flicking from face to face. But just as I'm about to rip away from him and try to make a run for it, his arms wrap around me.

The world goes black. The only thing in the entirety of existence is him and me, his arms wrapped comfortingly around me. He presses my face to his chest, gently whispering to me, his words calm and soothing.

"Shh... Don't take their comments to heart... They don't know the wonderful, amazing girl I know... You don't need them."

"And they don't deserve you..."