Uncontrollable

➳ chapter thirteen

She hadn't seen Aaron or Vincent since that night.

Astrid wondered when she'd started counting the days since last meeting up with the Soldiers or when she'd started caring about how they felt, but somehow, an unexplainable need to make sure they were alright had formed. At least, that was what she told herself when she stopped by Vincent's apartment.

After knocking on Aaron's door and receiving no answer, she'd assumed he'd be at Vince's.

"Hey," she said when Vincent swung the door open. He wore a thin crewneck sweater and sweatpants, his usual attire when he wasn't called in to The Queen of Hearts. He visibly brightened at the sight of her. "Is Aaron here?"

"No." He shook his head. "He's gone for a few days to spend time with his family." He nudged the door open wider. "Do you want something to eat?"

"Oh. Sure." Astrid stepped inside, waiting for him to shut the door before following him into the kitchen.

For someone who lived alone, his apartment was kept to relatively clean standards. The blanket covering the couch was folded across the back, the table was scrubbed clean, and the magnets on the fridge had been rearranged. The scent of warm cookies reached her before she caught sight of the full plate on the counter, and Vincent offered her the plate.

"Thank you," she mumbled as she placed three onto a napkin.

These sugar cookies were the kind you bought from the supermarket and heated in the open before they were ready to eat. A simple, easy dessert that she'd turned to often for big meals. Cooking was split between her and her aunt, and when her aunt worked long shifts to support the two of them, dinner was often her responsibility. Although she was out of practice, she could remember afternoons spent making meals instead of finishing homework, but that was considered normal. It was rare for students to complete all of their assignments, and if they didn't, it was because many of them had younger siblings to watch after or jobs to go to. That felt like a lifetime ago.

Still, desserts had never been her specialty. She'd never been able to commit to learning a recipe when she knew they wouldn't sustain her for a real meal, and her aunt had similar feelings. These oven-baked sugar cookies had saved her many times.

Today, they had designs for the new superhero film hitting theaters. Though it likely wouldn't be hitting the only theater in Kempton, which only showed four movies at a time and had so many crimes reported there that most avoided it like the plague. Plus, going out to the movies had become too expensive.

"What do you want to drink?" Vincent asked.

"I'll just take a water," Astrid answered. She waited for him to pour her a glass and set it down next to her while nibbling on the edge of one. "These are really good, by the way."

A corner of his lip quirked upward. "All I had to do was bake them in the oven. Pretty hard to screw that up."

"I bet someone has. Anyway, why did Aaron go to his family's?"

His smile fell as he leaned against the counter. "He was just upset—about everything. And I think his family will help him feel better about it all."

Astrid understood that. Astrid wanted that. It was a year today since her aunt had passed, and not a day went by where she didn't think about her or miss her.

Vincent picked up on her inner thoughts without her having to say a word. "I know. He's lucky. He knows he is."

"You can't just fly back to Brazil every time you miss your parents."

"Claro que não," he murmured, and at her inquiring look, he clarified, "Of course not."

"Oh." She'd never picked up a second language. She wished she had, especially when Teresa and Daisy both spoke fluent Spanish. There had been a few instances in which she'd asked Vincent to teach her a few phrases in Portuguese, and as they curled up his bed, tucked beneath the covers as the cold air seeped into the room, he'd obliged her. "I should've guessed."