"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...
( i love you 'till my breathing stops, i love you 'till you call the cops on me )
chapter twenty-five!
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
VINCENT WAS MAKING A BAD CHOICE. He was making the worst decision he could have possibly ever come up with in however long he's lived. It was a choice that he knew would come back and bite him in the ass. He was totally fucking himself over, and was surprised to say that he, really, really, really did not give a shit.
He was calm despite being aware of the consequences. He was calm despite knowing this was the one chess piece he shouldn't be playing with. This was the one chess piece that would get him killed in the end, but he didn't mind that anymore. Perhaps he even welcomed it now. Open arms and open mind. He'd already messed with the chess piece, and now it was the final straw. He was going to knock it off the board.
He hadn't prepared at all for his brand new plan, and all he'd done was grab some of the guns he knew Five had, stowing them away in his pockets. Maybe he'd get arrested for possession of illegal firearms before he was consequently brutally murdered. That would be preferable to someone who cared for Vincent, but who did that even include anymore?
Vincent's mind brought up the idea of Five caring. Vincent knew he did. He knew Five would never agree with his plan. Five would be utterly pissed with him, in fact. But Vincent didn't care. He'd gotten a harsh kiss out of the boy he loved and now he was ready to put his life on the line for him too.
Five had ruined Vincent's life, but also made it better in so many ways. He'd gotten him to a place Vincent was convinced was impossible now. He'd made him happy.
Vincent would sacrifice himself for Five Hagreeves and he would not hesitate one bit. He'd run into war unprepared and ill fully armed. He would die and he wouldn't care.
He was being an idiot.
Five would tell him exactly so if he were here. If he weren't injured in bed by the exact same woman Vincent was going to demolish. Five would convince him not to do what he was going to do. Five was an analyst who knew what could ruin their lives in the blink of an eye and Vincent didn't think. Vincent never thought. Not long and hard like he should.
Maybe because he didn't care. He'd never cared. There had only ever been one thing he truly cared about and that had just been shot and was laying in bed in pain. Vincent didn't forgive easy.
He would forgive Five for ratting him out to the Commission and being a total dick. He would forgive Five for killing his ambition and making him feel like shit sometimes. He would forgive Five for anything. Anything and everything.
