Defining Vincent

The first thing she hears is the sound of his equipment falling to the floor, followed by the exasperated sigh that escapes his tired throat. She already prepares for his embrace. It was like a ritual at this point, the solitude and comfort he sought in her arms was like a necessity, one that she would never dare deny him. She knew he needed this; a place where he didn’t need to be “Captain Skye” the stoic veteran who was considered heartless amongst his ranks and was responsible for hundreds of deaths; no. To her, he was Vincent: her partner, her best friend, her lover. The moment he enters the living room, she can see it in his eyes.

Those twin, deep pools of crimson; reminding her and so many others of a demon’s very own. So vivid and beautiful they were and yet they bore so many sins on their visage and had seen just as much death. His weight falls heavily against her on the couch, their bodies twisting and fitting together, becoming almost one entity in that instance. She’s quick to bring her arms around his wide frame and pull his body tight against her, cradling him in an intimate fashion.

There’s not a single word said. The only noise is of her clothes shuffling or their steady breathing until he’s comfortable and situated atop her. Her fingers glide along his skin: a series of burns and deep wounds in his pale flesh, reminders of the war that his life had become. All this, and for what? She often wondered why he was chosen to endure such trials at a young age. Fate certainly didn’t treat him nicely. No, if anything, it threw him in the deepest of pits and laughed.

As her hands trace each individual scar on his skin, she feels her desire for him grow stronger and stronger. Each mark and each imperfection only makes him more handsome in her eyes. “My precious knight,” she whispers, her lips lightly pressing into the crook of his neck. She knows how much this soothes his mind; knowing that he’s safe in her arms, away from the rest of the world that wants his blood.

His body was that of a true soldier; a man built like a king. Every muscle, every defined line and curve made him look like he was sculpted from marble, carefully and meticulously designed for the sole purpose of combat. The way his body contracts underneath her fingertips, his muscles moving and tensing with each breath. It’s absolutely mesmerizing.

“You’re so tense, Vince,” she sighs, her hands now moving from his back to his neck. There, she can feel a buildup of tension and stress, something she’s sure that’s been there for years. “I can help if you want.”

The offer comes out naturally, not a second thought in her mind as she gently starts to rub and knead the skin around his shoulders. If he were anyone else, Serenity would’ve never been so quick to make such a suggestion. But this was Vincent. And she would do anything for him. He simply gives a nod in return, not wanting to break the silent peace that has fallen over them. The warmth of her hands, the way they worked into the sore and stiff muscles; it was nothing short of pure bliss.

She begins with the back of his neck, focusing on the muscles around his spine as well as his shoulder blades, which earns her a sigh of deep relief from her partner. “Just relax,” she whispers, her fingers starting to dig into the area right around where his head connects to his neck. He lets out another groan, the tension easing and disappearing under her heated touch like melting ice. After a few minutes, she moves her way down his back, pushing and pulling on the hard muscles underneath his skin. Serenity lets out a soft chuckle as his breath tickles her neck; a small sign of his appreciation.
Once she gets to his waist, she works on his lower back, focusing mainly on his sides. Her thumbs dig into his flesh, causing him to jolt forward with a sharp hiss. It seems as though he’d been hiding another knot just under the surface. Serenity smiles to herself, pressing a bit harder on that same spot. Aside from trying to soothe his pain, the greedy part of her mind can’t help but marvel at the feeling of his firm muscles moving and flexing under her touch. She wants to touch more, to feel every inch of his body; the good and the bad. But that’s for another day. For now, she simply enjoys the feeling of his skin on hers.