Mr Delightful

Chapter six

•{Chase's POV}•

I stared after Vaughn as he left the kitchen, returning to the living room with the others. I strolled over, pretending as though nothing else was bothering me. On the inside, I was torn. I felt horrible for being so bad to Vaughn, but I knew that grovelling at his feet would make me feel more pathetic than I did bad.

I stood in the doorway, looking around as Vaughn smiled weakly and cracked jokes along with everyone else. I didn't belong with this group of people. They were so friendly and charming, and I didn't deserve to be with them.

I turned away from the doorway, walking out the front door silently. I walked toward my rusty grey truck. Before I could get in, someone caught my arm.

I whipped around to see Honor, looking at me with a raised eye brow.

"Where are you going?" She asked innocently.

"You know where I'm going, Honor," I mumbled impatiently. I leaned against the truck, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

"Then why?"

I huffed, smiling bitterly as I looked away from her.

"I don't belong here, Honor. Do I?" When she was silent, I continued. "I'm not like you guys. Vaughn is a better fit among you. I'm not quirky like Theo, or artistic like Lacey, or smart like you. For gods sake, I don't even have as good fashion sense as Cara! I'm sorry."

I opened the door, but Honor pulled me back again.

"Chase, where is this all coming from?"

I met her green eyes with some effort. I couldn't find my voice as she stared at me with so pity and confusion, so I just shrugged. Honor shook her head.

"Chase, we love you. Vaughn isn't here to replace you. He gets along with the group because of his personality, yes, but we love that you're so grounded. You keep us from being complete idiots, and maybe you have been a bit more... Chase-y than usual, but you probably just need to warm up to Vaughn. Give him a chance."

"That seems to be your guys' catch phrase."

...

The rest of the night didn't go as horridly awkward as I thought it would. Everyone acted as if nothing happened, especially Vaughn. He barely looked in my direction, and when he did, he made me feel guilty to the bone by smiling.

I made it through the whole night without saying a word. Eventually, everyone went to sleep and I was left sitting in the recliner, fully awake and filled with thoughts.

Why did it brother me that I hurt Vaughn? And why did it bother me that he didn't care? Shouldn't I have been relieved that he didn't hate me, or get angry?

I didn't get a chance to actually answer the questions for myself before I heard someone mumble my name.

I turned, finding Vaughn looking at me from across the room.

He gestured for me to follow him as he got up and walked out of the room. I rolled my eyes, but couldn't stop myself from getting up and chasing him. He was sat down at the counter, just like before, but he had chips in front of him. He didn't say anything as I entered, just pulled out the stool beside him and pushed over the chips for me.

Hesitantly, I strolled over and sat beside him, eating a chip.

We sat in the quiet for several minutes, listening to the sound of the wind outside and the gentle whir of the fridge.

Finally, Vaughn spoke.

"I wish we could've been friends when we first met."

I wanted to have a response that actually had to do with what he said, but instead, I exploded with guilt.

"I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have assumed anything about you, it wasn't right!" I told him. Vaughn smiled, not looking at me.

"It's fine," he said simply, "I forgave you minutes after."

I blinked up at him, staring at him through thick eyelashes. His chocolate eyes were focused on his hands. He had a scratch on his finger. By the way he was staring, it seemed to be extremely important.

"How can you just... forgive me?" I asked, shaking my head. I tore my eyes away from him, looking out the window.

"You're only human. Besides, having mistakes held against you is incredibly painful. I promise, if you don't bring it up, neither will I."

I turned to look at him, and he looked up from his hands. He gave me a small smile, and I found myself returning it against my will.

"You should smile more often," he told me. "Your smile is absolutely contagious."

I self consciously let the smile drop a little, but kept it on my face to mirror his. He peered over at the clock, hopping off the stool.

"It's late. I should actually sleep now," he chuckled. I nodded and followed him back into the living room. We returned to our spots, and as I fell asleep a felt a sort of peace I hadn't felt in a while.

I'd been forgiven.