"Who, Shift? Yeah, he's quiet. He's a devil behind the wheel though."
"Why didn't you kill me? Why did you save me"
"I saw myself in you."
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Vincent Costello is an infamous heist operator. 10 years in the makin...
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*Sofia Blanco*
Beyond the journey with the cabin and much needed rest after, usually I didn't sleep. As much as you get used to taking a person's life, the cowers and screams of witnesses, family, that was what haunted you. The more gruesome murders were painted in my mind like a mural of death. Therefore, insomnia was the affect of my digressions.
Once Vincent and I departed from one another, he went to claim a room as I left myself to the liquor, neatly in the dining room. I rummage through the locked box under the faucet, hoping for more than alcohol. Some nicotine, cigars, fucking crack for all I cared. I needed a release.
A green box shaped vape, with the flavor on the side. Frankly, I didn't give a damn if it was full of juice or burnt to a crisp. I had grown so used to having something after a rough day. This was a punishing week to be blunt. One thing wasn't going to heal everything.
I pour a large stream of Everclear into a wedged glass. I sat myself, alone at the long round black table. Knees to my chest as I swirl the alcohol around in the cup. As I take a swig, a fiery burn that causes a sharp sensation to my throat makes me react involuntarily. Tense eyebrows whilst scrunching my nose. I hear a knock at the door which I gradually waltz too. The cup and vape in my hands like a pacifier. In opening the door, James is there with bags from the nearby shops. "I manage to pick up some essentials along with some clothes."
I prop the door open with my foot so he can pass by. Once inside, I make my way back to the dining room. "Is Vincent asleep?" I taking another sip, slouching back in the chair, "Who the fuck cares?" He chuckles to himself as he leaves the clothing bags on the sofa before making his way to the kitchen to put away food. "Well, you do. As do I." I remark, trading the strong alcohol for a hit of the vape. Slightly burnt yet acquiring some flavor, "Why should I give rat's ass about him?"
James setting the grocery bags on the island counter, "From my observation, you care about Vincent quiet a bit, Sofia." I roll my eyes as I puff out the cancerous nicotine. "Bullshit." Advising as he continues with his task, "Deny as you wish, or drink and surround yourself with drugs, but when was the last time you had someone willing to do anything for you."
"Never, and it's not starting now. He fucking calls me a whore, tells me I'm nothing-" James shuts a cabinet, looking to me as I play with the half empty glass, "Just as you, he's projects. However, he may have a point." Stunned, taking another inhale, "What, that I'm a whore?" As calm as can be, "No. Whatever he may have said, there has to be truth if he's points out a flaw. Yes? What did he say?" I grumble, "That I don't care about people and stupid shit-"
"But did you actually listen, or wait until it was your turn to return an insult?" I glare at him with annoyance. My brain was foggy. I didn't want to think or talk just drink till the next morning. "I see. I know you wish for people to care, however when people do get close, you tend to push them away because you can't accept it nor give back the care." I groan, "Are my therapist or a fucking right hand, James?"
