Destined

Sixty Eight

Vincent Delavigne was a beautiful man. Once again I was painfully reminded of that. He was standing in my bedroom and a flash of dejavu hit me me so hard that I gripped the door to steady myself.

"How'd you get in here?" I asked.

He smiled. I was upset to find that his smile still had the same effect on me. Weak in the knees, giddy, loved.

"You'd think you'd stop asking me that by now," he replied.

Dear God, his voice. His voice, still deep, rich, creamy, soothing, melted chocolate, honey, it was there. Hearing him speak right then had me on cloud nine. I was now gripping the door because I was trying to avoid running to him. And dear friends, that's when my best friend Lust decided to rear her ugly head back into the picture and give me one hell of a hug.

"I lock my windows, I always lock my windows," I said.

I learnt that lesson the hard way.

"What are you doing here?" I asked since he didn't bother responding to my window comment.
"I've missed you,"
I stared at him, "I've missed you too," I said simply.

I didn't see the point in denying it. Give him the proper goodbye and we could part amicably.

"How are you? How have you been?" He asked.

His hands were in his pockets. I realized then that he was wearing the exact same outfit he'd been wearing the first time he'd snuck into my room last year. Briefly I wondered if he'd done it on purpose.

I sighed, "Good, I'm working with my aunt now, I like it. You've been busy too apparently, book release in June,"
He chuckled lightly, "Been keeping tabs on me?"
I shrugged, "I hear things,"
"Does this mean you're not a fan anymore? Not my biggest fan?"

The words made me hurt. Like there was a needle being pushed into my heart. I took a deep breath to steady myself.

"What do you want Vince?" I asked.
"I want you,"
"It's been over a month, surely you've found someone else for you,"
"Have you?" He asked.
"No, but..."
"You still love me," he interrupted.
"No, I'm..."
"Don't lie to me, Kristina,"

I took another breath. Been a while since someone had called me by my full name. Hearing it from him sent me into a strange kind of panic attack. I shook my head and released the door.

"I forget, you're the only one that gets to lie in this relationship," I muttered.

Wrath is my friend. Wrath is good. Wrath keeps me safe.

"At least you admit we still have a relationship,"
"No, we don't. We're over, we've been over for weeks. You need to leave, please,"

I was begging him with my eyes, which I knew were quickly filling with tears. He sighed, clearly frustrated. So much for the proper goodbye.

"Can we just talk? Please,"
"I don't want to,"
"It's about Talia,"
"Is she okay?" I asked immediately.

I hadn't spoken to my best friend since I'd left. Hell, she hadn't even known I was dropping out. And last time we'd talked, well, you know.

"She's fine, she sent you a letter," I stared at him confused. "Guess she couldn't find you, either. Since you left the university, moved out of your house in Delaware," he said and I noticed a bit of anger sip into his words.
"How did you find me?" I asked.
"After several weeks of asking, your aunt told me,"

Damn you, Aunt Shar.

"Where's the letter?"
"I put it on your table," he gestured behind him.
"You were about to leave when I walked in?"
He nodded, "I didn't think you'd want to see me,"