Becoming- A Leston/Vikklan/Wooflan Story

✯Chapter 13- Vikklan✯

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Vikk's apartment was nice, small but warm and tidy and much more homely and comfortable than Preston's home. As much as I hated it I couldn't help but compare Vikk and everything of his, his home, his actions and his attitude towards Preston because I was subconsciously protecting myself.

I couldn't help but be guarded, to look out for every little thing he did around me or towards me and compare it to what Preston did, because I was waiting for him to change. Although Preston had only waited a day before he started changing to take advantage of me his power shift was slow, begin with touches and kisses that simply made me uncomfortable and ending in... that.

In the two months I had been out of Preston's apartment I had barely thought about what had happened to me on that last horrific night, the sexual assault and the beating, simply because I was pretending it never happened. I knew it wasn't good, repressing the memories and ignoring everything, but I barely had time to live, let alone think about it.

For some reason Vikk's apartment smelled like cinnamon and vanilla and for the first couple of minutes I couldn't work out way, but then I saw the multiple triple wick candles on the bookshelf. None of them were lit but Vikk followed my gaze.

"Yeah, I like candles." He smiled genuinely before giving me a quick tour of his apartment.

The living room, kitchen and dining space was all one, admittedly small, open plan space which led to a hall with four doors. There was a cupboard on one side and a bathroom on the other, and finally two bedrooms right down the end. Again, the apartment was tiny, but the entire thing smelt like cinnamon and I found I liked it.

"This'll be your room-" Vikk said, pushing open the door to the bedroom on the right. I had had a quick peek into his own room and saw several dozen books, what looked like several dozen plants and more cinnamon scent. "-it's a bit small I'm sorry, but it should be warm."

It was nice, neutral whites and creams all over the room, and it was a hell of a lot bigger than my closet in the government housing. The bed was a single one covered with a simple white duvet.

"It's... nice." I said, smiling. "Thank you."

And for once, I felt genuine.

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Vikk left me alone for a couple of hours, giving me some time to get used to the room, the smell, the unfamiliar environment and it also gave me some time to sort myself out. Because as much as I didn't want to believe he would turn out like Preston, I still didn't trust that he wouldn't.

"Do you want something to eat?" Vikk asked, poking his head around my bedroom door. "I've got pizza."

I nodded slowly and got up from the bed, stretching.

"By the way, don't be afraid to pop into my room to grab a book if you want, there isn't much to do other than watch TV." I nodded but internally I shuddered at the thought of going through days of sitting and staring blankly at the tv.

And his touch.

It took me another few minutes to finally fight myself out of the flashback and make my way out to the kitchen. The whole place now smelt like pizza mixed with spices and Vikk smiled at me as I walked into the room, handing me a plate with about half a pizza on it.

"I can't- I can't eat all of this." I stumbled, pushing the plate back.

"It's alright." He smiled. "Just eat what you want and leave the rest, it can just go in the fridge. You aren't allergic to anything are you, I probably should have asked earlier."

I shook my head and Vikk, with a plate of his own, walked over to the living room, switched on the television and flopped onto the couch. I hesitated, like physically froze and almost stopped breathing, when I realised I would have to sit there next to him, and he noticed it.

"Do you not wanna sit here?" I shook my head, flushing red with embarrassment. "There's a beanbag in the corner, just drag one out if you wanna sit there."

I looked towards where he was pointing and sure enough, there was a beige beanbag pushed up against the curtain. I took it and sat down about a metre off from the couch, my head down because I couldn't bear to look up at the television. It would send me into a flashback, I knew it.

As much as I didn't want to be rude I couldn't stomach any food, I pushed the pizza around my plate with one finger and just closed my eyes. This situation was so familiar, the first night at Preston's when I fell asleep against his shoulder after completely falling apart, crushed by my parents rejection.

I didn't realise I was crying until I saw tears dripping onto the plate and I jolted in surprise, quickly placing the plate on the ground. I sniffled pitifully, rubbing my eyes with my fists like a toddler.

When Vikk scrambled to my side I didn't notice him at first, but when he reached out and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder and screamed out in panic and fear, jumping backwards. I was in the throws of a panic attack and touch was the last thing I wanted.

"No- no, no, no! Don't touch me!" I whimpered, clapping my hands over my ears. I must have begun rocking, my chest tight.

"Okay, okay, I'm not touching you, see, see my hands?" Vikk said, holding his hands out in my line of sight so I could see his palms curved towards me. "It's a panic attack, okay, you're just going to have to ride it out. I'm not going to touch you, but just know I'm here."

I had had panic attacks before, especially after Preston, and knew there really was nothing to do. I would rock in a corner of the room and cry and hyperventilate until it passed, the memories overwhelming me and every second reminding me of what Preston had done to me.

Finally I just curled up on my side and cried, my hands clamped over my ears while Vikk sat there with no idea what to do. He didn't know what to say, he couldn't touch me and I just didn't want him to do anything either, I just wanted to be left alone.

"God Lachlan." He whispered, my ears barely catching it through my hands. "Who hurt you?"