Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XX - Transference

 

I chewed on my fingernails after laying a set of clothes I picked up for Vincent on top of his bed. It was Mei’s idea, really. Apparently, I had to earn Vincent’s trust and approval by doing things like these. So far, I chose a navy blue turtle neck pull over shirt, a black jacket and some plain faded jeans paired with white sneakers.

I almost jumped back when he emerged from the bathroom in a robe, patting his dark wavy hair with a towel. I faced the wall and inched awkwardly away from him.

“Uh… I left your clothes on the bed,” I mumbled nervously, grabbing my clothes and towel from my chair slash sleeping bunk before hobbling to the bathroom.

Vincent didn’t say anything. He just stared at me knotting his brows, heading straight to his garment drawers.

I kicked the tub—which is not the best idea if your toe isn’t made of steel—and grouched under the hot shower.

I didn't think it would be easy.

I threw on a yellow sweater paired with dark fitted jeans and a black cardigan Mei lent me. The clothes were a little too tight but it was better than having to put up with whatever Rosario had to say if I tried to borrow from her.

Vincent was gone when I came out.

I noticed something sitting on my chair. It was a white canvas sling bag and I was sure it was from him. A torn small piece of paper fell from the pocket when I picked it up.

To Aramis.

A smile unwillingly pulled up the sides of my lips as I slung it over my shoulder and headed out, remembering to pick up the black and blue striped woolen scarf I unearthed from Mei’s dresser.

As I reached the main drawing room, I heard the revving of engines from the front yard. The yellow 4WD Land Cruiser waited outside with Archie in the driver’s seat.

“Newbie! Catch!” Amyr tossed me a small paper bag. He was already in his work clothes—a black suit and tie paired with dress shoes. Still, I couldn’t get the logic of hunting wraiths in a suit.

“Vince seems like in a good mood today,” he teased, a mischievous smile playing on his lips.

"Good mood, huh?" I rolled my eyes.

He just shrugged and let out a chuckle. “Believe or not, we’ve had worse. Since your arrival, the broken furniture rate took a drastic drop from an average of nine to two every day.”

Sigh.

I could feel my brain cells dying, just thinking of having to deal with Vincent for every single day of my life.

I headed for the door and found Vincent waiting for me at the front porch, his breath fogging the light-adaptive glasses he wore to hide his eyes, the cold autumn wind ruffling his dark hair.

My jaw almost dropped.

He wore the clothes I picked for him after all with the jacket slung over his shoulder. I bit my lip, feeling an involuntary smile coming.

I cleared my throat to get his attention.

“What?” he muttered, throwing me one of his signature ominous looks. He rubbed his hands together and blew on them. His cheeks were slightly pink due to the cold.

Instantly, I dropped my gaze.

“What are you waiting for? The fourth of July?” he grumbled.

"Someone's in a good mood." I laughed silently as I removed the woolen scarf from around my neck and started to him. “I hope I live that long. ”