Bashful - A Skephalo Story ❤️

Part 25

Dave woke to the sound of laughter. Squinting his eyes, he spotted the television. It was playing some French show, and the characters were joking around with each other. Remembering the night before, Dave's eyes flew open, and he turned around. He had been lying on Vincent's chest; they must have fallen asleep together, cuddling in the moonlight.

Not wanting to wake Vincent, Dave crept out of their room and downstairs, in search of a takeaway breakfast. Vincent stirred from the movement, yawning. He rolled over sleepily, expecting to find Dave's body. Instead, he fell to the floor with a thud. Groaning, he sat up and looked around. He wasn't in bed at all, and Dave was nowhere to be seen. He remembered watching movies with him in the evening, but he must have drifted off to sleep on the sofa.

Heart sinking, Vincent worried, 'What if he left? What if he changed his mind?' He curled up into a ball leaning against the wall, his eyes started to water. Sniffling, he wiped them and stood up, getting into the shower. When he came out from the bathroom, wearing his thermal underlayer, he noticed the radio had been turned on in the living room.

Vincent headed in to investigate, his arms crossed defensively across his chest. Then he stopped dead, muttering a surprised, "Oh!"

Dave turned around, smiling nervously. "I got breakfast," he shrugged. Looking closer, he noticed Vincent's red eyes. He stood up and wrapped his arms around him, joking, "What's wrong? Do you prefer baguettes?"

Vincent shook his head, not meeting Dave's eyes. "I'm... happy," he laid his head on Dave's chest, trying to sound convincing.

"And I lose at Skywars," Dave retorted sarcastically. "Seriously, what's wrong?"

Blushing, Vincent admitted, "I thought you'd left. That you'd... changed your mind."

"Really?" Dave frowned, stepping back. "I thought you would know I'm not like that."

He sighed, meeting Dave's eyes. "I know," he replied, "you're ways too caring to do that. I just got worried, because, you know," he trailed off.

"No, I don't know!" Dave retorted. Then, more gently, "I can't understand unless you tell me."

"I guess it's just... why me? You're successful, you have friends, fame, you're so beautiful-" he broke off, embarrassed at letting that slip. Clearing his throat, he continued, "and I'm just some French guy that sometimes appears on Zak's channel." Ashamed, he hung his head. He felt arms snaking around him and breathed out, relaxing. "I'm sorry," he took Dave's hand, "I'm being paranoid."

"You are being paranoid," Dave whispered, shaking his head. "I don't care what you think. I like 'some French guy'. I'm also getting really hungry, so stop with your nonsense," he winked, sitting in a chair and pulling Vincent onto his lap.

They tucked in, quickly forgetting their conversation. Soon, a knock sounded, and Vincent got up to answer the door. As he did, he was pelted in the face by a snowball.

Grinning, Zak and Darryl ran away down the corridor, laughing into their camera. Vincent growled, pulling Dave to their bedroom as they changed into their waterproofs. Racing out of the door, they slid down the banisters and outside to the snowy landscape. Ducking behind the nearest drift, they rolled up a stockpile of balls, then opened fire on Zak and Darryl.

The air was filled with white missiles, flung across the road carelessly as they laughed and squealed. Darryl was hit square in the face, falling back and giggling into the camera. "Who was that?! I'm going to kill you, you muffiny muffin!"

"How does that even make sense?" Vincent grinned, shaking his head.

"Because photosynthesis," Zak winked, launching himself over the drift he was hiding behind. Fire opened immediately, and he laughed, stumbling into a mound of white flakes.