Dreamless in Early Graves (Vic Fuentes / Kellic) ✔️

Chapter 12: The Promise

first of all... HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY MAMA AND MY PERFECT LITTLE ENCHILADA VICTOR FUENTES!! does anyone even believe that this man is 33? because I sure as hell don't. he can't be a day over 23. which would make him my age. well hello Victur hehehe 😏👉🏻

okay, anyways... let's move on.

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It was weird, but I could feel my own body deteriorating. And it was happening at a much faster rate than before.

Probably because they had given up on giving me the treatment, and also probably because -emotionally speaking- I was starting to give up a little, too.

Or at least, I was sensing my end. And now I hated it more than ever. Mostly because of that thing with Vic.

Seven, maybe eight, days had passed since I sent Vic home after our argument. Or really, it wasn't exactly an argument. But a lot of mixed emotions did come to play. He hadn't dropped by on his own account, and I also didn't call him.

I was going to call him on the third day, but then I somehow convinced myself that if I left him alone, then maybe his feelings for me would pass. But this morning I realized that that was complete and utter bullshit, because my own feelings hadn't passed either.

So I contacted the center where they held the cancer support therapy sessions, and I asked for Vic's address instead. I wanted to give him something for all his trouble. And I needed to apologize to him.

I just hoped that my body would let me get that far. . .

After almost getting lost twice in the unfamiliar part of town, and asking numerous people for directions, I finally arrived at the apartment complex that Vic supposedly lived in.

It looked old and run down, but that didn't matter much. This whole neighborhood was basically like that. The door of the building was open, so I just went inside and took the elevator to the floor that the sign told me had number 210 on it.

When I arrived in front of the door and spotted the small card that said 'Fuentes', I was relieved to know that I was at the right place. There was no bell, though, so I just knocked.

Within seconds, the door was answered. A much taller, skinny, heavily tattooed man opened the door, looking down at me with a questioning frown on his face.

"Um- I'm looking for Vic. Does he live here?" I asked softly.

His face softened and he nodded. "Yeah, he's in the shower at the moment. Do you want to come inside?"

"Sure, just for a minute."

He stepped out of the way and I walked in past him. It was a small studio apartment. The living area, sleeping area and kitchen were all in one room. There stood a coffee table, two fold out beds, a single dresser, pillows on the ground and some random posters on the wall. There was a door at the far right, and I assumed that was the bathroom.

It was kind of a shock to know that Vic lived in such conditions. And I wondered why he never told me about it.

"Sorry about the state of this place." The man who let me in murmured. "I'm Mike, by the way. Do you want something to drink?"

"Water is fine." I said softly.

Mike offered for me to sit down, but with the state of my spine, getting myself on the ground wasn't a problem. . . but getting back up was. So I didn't risk it.

"I assume that you're Ana?" Mike then asked me as he handed me a glass of cold water.

"How'd you know?" I wondered.