enemies to lovers(brance)

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The next morning, Vance woke up with a pounding headache that seemed to match the storm brewing in his mind. He groaned as he sat up in bed, rubbing his temples in a futile attempt to ease the throbbing pain. He hadn't slept well, and the lack of rest was catching up with him fast. His mind had been consumed with thoughts of Bruce all night, and now, the consequences were hitting him hard.

Dragging himself through the motions of the morning, Vance eventually made his way to school, though his heart wasn't in it. He tried to focus in class, but everything felt like a blur. His headache made it impossible to concentrate on anything the teachers were saying. All he could think about was how messed up his mind was lately-Bruce had him tied up in knots, and he hated it.

By lunchtime, Vance had had enough. His usual scowl deepened as he grabbed his bag and made a break for the exit. He wasn't about to stick around when every minute at school felt like a slow torture. He needed to clear his head, and being surrounded by people wasn't helping.

He left school without looking back, the crisp Denver air doing little to shake the fog in his head. He wasn't sure where to go, but he was starving, and the first place that came to mind was Grab-n'-Go.

The familiar bell above the door jingled as Vance stepped inside, the bright lights making his headache worse for a moment. He winced slightly but kept moving, heading straight for the cooler at the back. He grabbed a drink, the cold metal of the can soothing against his hand.

As he made his way to the counter, his eyes flicked over to the corner of the store, where a group of students were laughing and chatting. It didn't take long for him to spot Bruce among them, effortlessly fitting in with his friends. Bruce had that easy charm that seemed to draw people to him, and seeing him surrounded by his group-Finney, Gwen, Robin, and a few others-just reminded Vance of the distance between them. It was like they lived in two different worlds, even though they went to the same school.

Vance felt a twinge of something he didn't want to name as he watched Bruce for a moment longer. He hated that Bruce looked so relaxed, like nothing ever phased him. He hated that even after all this time, Vance couldn't shake the weird pull he felt toward him. And most of all, he hated how out of control it made him feel.

Without acknowledging Bruce or the group, Vance paid for his drink and moved over to the pinball machine in the corner, the one he always gravitated toward when he needed to clear his mind. The machine clattered to life with a familiar jolt, the colorful lights flashing and the satisfying sound of the metal ball hitting the bumpers filling the small space around him.

Vance zoned out, fingers working the flippers on instinct as he let the repetitive action calm his thoughts. The pinball machine had always been his escape, a way to lose himself in the motion of the game when everything else felt too overwhelming.

Forty minutes passed without Vance even realizing it. He just kept playing, his mind still a tangled mess of thoughts. But in those quiet moments, surrounded by the flashing lights and clinking sounds of the machine, he found some semblance of peace.

Across the store, Bruce had noticed Vance the second he walked in. He didn't say anything, but he couldn't help stealing glances at Vance as he played the pinball machine. There was something intense about the way Vance focused on the game, his movements sharp and deliberate, like he was trying to fight off something he couldn't control.

Bruce found himself wondering what was going on in Vance's head. He knew something was off-Vance had that look about him, like he was trying to keep the world at arm's length, but the walls were closing in. Bruce had seen it before, in the way Vance had looked at him the day before in the store, the way their tension felt like it was about more than just their mutual dislike.

Eventually, Bruce excused himself from his friends and made his way over to the corner, standing a few feet behind Vance, watching him silently for a moment. The sounds of laughter and conversation from the group faded into the background as Bruce gathered the courage to speak.

"You've been at that machine a while," Bruce said finally, his voice calm, but loud enough to cut through the noise of the game.

Vance stiffened at the sound of Bruce's voice but didn't turn around. His eyes stayed locked on the pinball, his hands still working the flippers. "What's it to you?" Vance muttered, keeping his tone neutral, though the familiar edge of frustration was there.

Bruce shrugged, though Vance couldn't see it. "Just... noticed," he said, trying to keep things light. "Didn't think you'd be skipping school today."

Vance let out a low, humorless laugh, still not turning to face him. "Yeah, well... had enough of that for one day."

There was a long pause as the ball clinked around the machine, the silence between them thick with unspoken tension. Finally, Vance spoke again, his voice quieter this time. "Why are you always around, huh?"

Bruce blinked, taken aback by the question. "What do you mean?"

Vance stopped playing, the ball rolling to a stop as he finally turned to look at Bruce. His eyes, dark and intense, met Bruce's with that same unreadable look from the night before. "I don't get you, Yamada. You keep trying to... what? Be nice? Get under my skin?"

Bruce held his gaze, his expression soft but steady. "I don't know, man. Maybe I'm just trying to figure you out."

Vance's jaw tightened. "Don't bother," he muttered, turning back to the machine and restarting the game, though his focus wasn't really on it anymore.

Bruce stood there for a moment longer, watching Vance, before stepping back and giving him space. "Maybe," Bruce said quietly, "but I think it's bothering you more than you let on."

As Bruce walked back to his friends, Vance clenched his fists around the pinball machine, the quiet words echoing in his mind. He couldn't shake the truth in them, no matter how hard he tried.

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