10 Reasons Not to Fall in Love

All Alone

Elizabeth stared into the fire, not even aware of the fact that her hard earned meal was ready to eat.

Elizabeth had gone through hell trying to gut the rabbit with a sharpened pebble, and when the insides were finally in the “pot” with the boiling snow water, Elizabeth couldn’t bring herself to even think about working with the blood soaked fur anymore. Slaughtering the poor thing had been extremely bad for the heart, as it wasn’t exactly a clean kill. Elizabeth had tossed the remains into the river, disgusted with herself and her bloodstained fingernails.

As for the where the make shift pot on the fire originate from, she had managed to find a large slab of stone and boiled it to clean it. She even managed to knock a deep enough gash in the rock so it could serve as a pot.

However, as the “stew” that consisted of rabbit meat and water bubbled around, Elizabeth’s thoughts were of her crazy awakening. She touched her lips tentatively with her fingers. Vincent’s lips were softer than she thought.

They had crushed against Elizabeth, searing her mouth with their intense heat as he unintentionally groped her chest. The feeling was awful and foreign to her; it felt like she was suffocating and being slowly steamed over a geyser.

The horrible spasms that reminded her of something like being tickled had wracked her body, and had made her gasp in shock.

Just the memory made her stomach tighten and Elizabeth felt a horrible blush coming on. To be honest, guys had tried to hit on her in similar ways in the past, and although they got severe beatings after words, the first few had managed to catch her off guard.

Technically, what Vincent had done wasn’t inexcusable compared to Elizabeth’s past experiences. However, it was the fact that the disgust Elizabeth usually felt afterwards was nonexistent that bothered her. What was worse, Elizabeth realized with a groan, she felt more embarrassed than angry.

“Just suck it up. I heard that rabbit tastes like chicken,” an amused voice chuckled.

Yanked back to reality, Elizabeth jerked her eyes from the dancing flames and saw Vincent standing in the mouth of the cave. His face was remotely red due to the cold, and in his hair, jacket, and pants were dusted off in fine snow.

“Here,” Vincent sighed as he deposited some more wood to the tinder pile. “That should be enough for the rest of the day.”

With a sigh, Vincent flopped onto the ground, leaning against the cave wall and a few feet away from Elizabeth who fought furiously to calm her thundering heart.

“Liz?”
“Huh? Oh, yeah,” Elizabeth laughed unnaturally, “yeah, we should eat now.” She unthinkingly reached for the heated pot, and Vincent barely caught her hand by jumped forward before she went and burned herself.

“Easy!” he chided her. “The rock’s hot, so-”

“Don’t touch me!” Elizabeth screamed as she ripped her hand out of his. Vincent just froze on his knees, and silence filled the air.

“I-I got it, so don’t touch me,” Elizabeth repeated as she inched away after a few minutes.

Vincent’s eyebrows knotted together a little and he frowned unhappily. “Liz… What’s wrong?”

He reached forward to touch his face, and she tensed, scooting back further. Vincent’s eyes hardened and he suddenly left the cave to get some snow. Without even glancing at her, he walked up to the pot, doused the flames, and packed snow around the surface. It sizzled, and he quickly took it off of the fire pit.

“Eat whatever you want. I’m not hungry anyway,” Vincent muttered without looking at her while sliding the stone over to Elizabeth.

By the time the two had finished their quiet, disgusting lunch, Vincent left to use the bathroom. Elizabeth watched him in silence. Vincent hated her, she just knew it. Why was she so stupid?

Abruptly, Vincent, who had just reached the mouth of the cave, swayed and leaned against the rock.

Instantly worried, Elizabeth scrambled to her feet. As Vincent slowly sank to the ground, she stopped walking and broke into a jog.

“Vincent!” she said in alarm as she knelt down in front of him. Something was wrong. Sweat trickled down his neck even though his fingers were icy. Vincent’s head rested on her right shoulder, panting and his whole body shaking uncontrollably.

Suddenly, Elizabeth remembered. The fever. How could she have forgotten?! The temperature of his lips that morning. Not having an appetite. The kiss seemed so stupid and trivial now that Vincent’s was slowly slipping away in unconsciousness.

“Vincent, stay awake,” Elizabeth panicked as he began to lean heavier on her. “Do you hear me? Hey!”

“I got it,” he panted, and Vincent raised his head to look her in the eye. He gripped her by the shoulders as he stared at her with cool and collected eyes.

“I’ll be fine. Calm down, Liz. Hysteria isn’t going to help either of us,” he said slowly and firmly as Elizabeth gradually began to get herself together.

“Yeah,” she said shakily after a few blinks. “Stay calm. Right. Sorry.”

Vincent managed a smile. “I see that you’ve gone back to your old self.”

Elizabeth caught the double meaning of the words.

“Oh, that,” Elizabeth blushed as she helped him up and back over to the fire. She stared at the ground. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s fine,” Vincent sighed as he slumped in front of the pit. Elizabeth kneeled down next to him and restarted the flames. Vincent stared impassively at the flickering fire. “Besides, I can’t say I’m surprised about you being disgusted by the kiss.”

She whipped around. “That’s not-”

Noticing how close their faces were, Elizabeth got up and forced herself to smile. “Anyway, I’ll go look for some wild dandelions; they help reduce fevers if I remember correctly.”

Elizabeth got up, and took a step towards the howling winds outside when Vincent grabbed her ankle. She nearly fell from fright.

“What-” she hissed with a blush as she tried to shake him off. “Let go! I’ll be back soon, so stop worrying and-”

“It’s not that. Just don’t go. Stay with me.”

Elizabeth’s eyes widened a little as she looked down at Vincent’s serious face. It’s wasn’t pleading or desperate; just solemn and intense. “Don’t go,” he repeated as his grip tightened around her ankle.

“Why?”

“I don’t,” Vincent hesitated and scowled at the ground before going on. “I’m sick of being alone. Every time I’m sick, nobody’s allowed near me except for the occasional cold in fear of them catching it.”

Vincent? All alone? She tried to imagine having a fever in this large bedroom without a single person in sight. She tried imagining a bunch of reluctant maids that ungraciously dropped food on her beside table and hurried out without another word.

Great; how was she supposed to make Vincent go through being alone again when it was her fault he was sick? With an irritated sigh, Elizabeth took a seat.

“What are you,” she muttered with ANOTHER blush as she pressed herself against his jacket, “a little kid?”

Vincent laughed as he leaned against her, and after a few seconds, the guy blacked out. Elizabeth looked desperately at the growing blizzard outside.

We’re not going to last at this rate, she thought to herself. Elizabeth never felt so useless. Vincent had a fever that showed no sign of waning and all she could do was let him sleep next to her. The snow storm jeered at her situation, blocking all possible rescue attempts and rays of hope with its thick, roiling clouds.