Cuts and Bruises

Chapter Twenty

FINALLY AN UPDATE, been working on this one for a few weeks and I'm so sorry for the wait! Enjoy :)

*****

I stare at my reflection as I run the comb through my wet hair and wonder, why did it bother me so much when Vincent said he wouldn't kiss me again?

I wanted to chalk it up to me being emotional because I was home, but I wasn't sure that was the only culprit. The past few weeks, Vincent went from my arch nemesis to someone I wanted to kiss.

How did that happen?

"Pancakes are done!" The boy bellows up the stairs.

I take a deep breath and yell back, "Okay!"

I was acutely aware how suspicious my quick exit had been from the kitchen after Vincent promised to keep his lips to himself. So much so that I had been ready to go downstairs for almost ten minutes, but I continued to hide in the safety of my bedroom.

But in order to keep myself from looking even more suspicious, I had to go back downstairs and act like everything was fine. So I forced myself out of my room and down the steps until I saw a plate of horribly misshapen pancakes stacked a mile high on a plate.

"I think I made a little too much," Vincent admits sheepishly, pointing the spatula at the mound of pancakes.

I raise my eyebrows and survey the massive stack. "You think?"

"In my defense, I told you I needed help." He reminds me. "You left me to fend for myself."

In an attempt to get as far away from the subject of me running away from him as possible, I sit at the counter and look up at him. "Can you grab me a plate?"

Vincent gives me a flat look. "You think I know where anything is?"

"The cabinet to the left of the stove," I tell him. "And the forks are in the drawer in front of you."

He looks unimpressed, but I simply grin at him. We sit and put a dent in the mountain of pancakes in a semi-awkward silence. It felt like the air surrounding us was thick and charged with apprehension, the silence only broken for Vincent to crack a joke a few times.

After eating, we cleaned up and started physical therapy. Vincent was nearing the end of his treatment, and a lot of the activities I had laid out for him had become routine. Luckily, this meant that I didn't have to go through most of them beforehand, but simply aid him while he gave them a try.

As I watched him, my mind kept wandering to our sorry-I-spilled-your-coffee-on-you kiss, and I found it difficult to focus on much else. However, I somehow made it through our session, right up until the timer on my phone sounded to signal the end of it.

"I'm going to take a quick shower," Vincent says as he stands up. "And then we can go see Danny?"

I nod. "Sounds good."

He hesitates for a moment, like he wants to say something else, but decides against it and simply nods before stalking off. I let out a deflated breath and sunk into the nearest chair, almost as if I was physically exhausted by the tension between us.

By the time that we were walking out the front door, the chronic awkwardness between us had only grown more palpable. I was looking forward to being able to hang out with Danny, and simply thought of that when we were in the car together in an attempt to avoid thinking about the tension.

This was going great for me until Vincent taps the wheel and huffs, "Are you going to keep acting all awkward?"

His abrupt call out left my jaw hanging open for a moment. "W-What?"