"maybe we can head to the apocalypse again as a little vacation. you know what they say... paradise!"
"i cannot express to you how little i would like to do that."
"stingy fucker."
IN WHICH vincent leblanc, resident french asshole and externally...
( wouldnt it be nice to live together, in the kind of world where we belong )
chapter eighteen !
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VINCENT COULDN'T SHAKE THE FEELING THAT SOMETHING WAS WRONG. The feeling from earlier had only grown more intense, burning all through his body along with the pain from utilizing his power earlier in the day. His head hurt, pounded with worry and unease and his fingertips were numb again, similar to something he'd felt a while before.
He could tell Five knew he was off. The way Five looked at him with an expression of concern and the way he'd step closer to Vincent when he got just slightly paler than usual. Five had never really been concerned for Vincent before, though that day he did; consistently asking if he was okay.
Vincent didn't know if he liked or hated the change.
Five was different towards him, that was for sure. The change was slight, little and barely noticeable. From an outside perspective it may have looked the same all along, two touchy physically teenage boys who were much too protective of one another. And sure, it had always been that way, but lately the tone of the predicament altered.
Instead of just being protective, Five had become worried along the way. Perhaps it had to do with how tired he was at that point, or perhaps it had to do with how much mayhem Vincent had been getting involved in. But Five rarely outwardly stated he was worried. And he hadn't yet, the day he did would be a momentous occasion; but he had given Vincent way too many concerned looks that day, to the point where he lost count.
Maybe Vincent had his suspicions regarding the way he felt about Fives new attitude towards him because of the very fact that Vincent was hopelessly infatuated with Five Hargreeves. His adoration for the boy made the idea of Five worrying about him all the more terrifying.
The way Five would move closer to him, place a hand on his shoulder and ask in a way too gentle voice if he was okay; that was what made Vincent uneasy. He wasn't okay because he was breaking the fuck down, but he wouldn't just say that. He didn't want to know what would happen if Five was given a real confirmed reason to worry for him.
Maybe it was selfish to be so worried about someone actually caring about him, but it had always been something that didn't sit well with Vincent. He had never been properly cared for before and the image of getting that was not comforting as it may seem like it should have been. Being coddled and loved was an admittedly terrifying prospect to Vincent.
Love. Love was a stupid word. Five would never love him. No one quite had. He couldn't recall ever hearing the words directed towards him before. His parents surely didn't utter it, and his friends had only kept him around as a means for entertainment. The word was rare to him, foreign even.
