Reapers - Thirteen Brothers

XXIV - Master (1 of 2)

It was twelve midnight and Vincent still hadn't come to bed. Curled in my bunk-chair, I stared at the shirt and sweat pants I laid out for him, wondering if he was still waiting for Vlad to come home. Maybe he was still mad at me for being so insensitive.

I found Vincent in the darkness of the drawing room, his back on the wall while slumped on the floor. No wonder. Most of the chairs were already in furniture-heaven mainly because of his unholy temper. Automatically, he lifted his gaze when he sensed me coming.

"You should be in bed," he said in a weak voice, exhaustion evident on his face.

I knew he was waiting late to see that his brother came home safely. The sinking feeling in my stomach and the inability to get some shut-eye told me that I was worried too. Knowing the dangers, I knew it was pointless hoping they all made it back home unscathed, but I still did.

"Can't sleep." I smiled parking myself beside him. "Hungry?" I asked, brandishing a small red box of Cracked Heads—the ghoul-shaped cookies he seemed to like, which I stole from the kitchen cabinet.

Groaning, he snatched the box from me and popped a wraith's head into his mouth. I stole it back and nibbled on a shrunken head. It tasted just like crunchy custard.

"Do you always stay up this late?" I asked, feeling awkward with the small talk.

Vacantly, Vincent just shrugged. "In bad days, we keep patrol until morning. Wraiths disperse at daybreak. They're weak in broad daylight."

"So, that's why..." I mumbled to myself.

"Why what?"

"You always sleep in class... which totally explains why you can't wear contacts," I replied watching how his silver eyes flicker in the dark.

He just replied with a soft grunt, making me wonder what he was thinking so I kept talking if it was just to keep him from worrying about Vladimir.

"Why... Why me?" I blurted.

It seemed like he knew what I was talking about when he just shrugged in reply, looking like he was thinking of a proper answer but found none. "I... have no idea."

"Come on. Humor me. There has got to be a reason why you resurrected me," I pressed on. "I can't heal people like Rosario. I'm not strong like Amyr or smart like Archie... Or gorgeous like Mei. You don't even like me. Well in fact, I know you hated my guts from the very beginning. So why me?"

With a heavy sigh, he took a quick glance at me as though calculating my value inside his head, then fell silent for a while to mull over it again like it was taking all his brain power. Was it that damn hard to think of reason?I thought bitterly shaking my head. Maybe it was just because I looked a lot like Adrianna. The thought of it didn't make me feel any better. I just wanted to punch him on the face.

Just when I was about to drop the matter thinking he ignored my question, he said in a gentle voice, "You can't heal people. But you make them feel better... in here," while unsurely placing a hand over his chest.

He kept staring at the floor with wistful eyes as though he was having difficulty sorting out his thoughts or his words. "You're not physically strong but your will is. Very... Although I agree when you said you're not really that smart. Especially with your decisions."

If I wasn't just too dumbstruck at his words and the honesty in his eyes, I might've scowled at him to death for implying that I was dumb. But my mouth just opened and closed like a jammed elevator door, embarrassingly.

"But you're wrong." He finally turned to face me.

"A-about what?" I stuttered, almost biting my tongue off in the process.

"You're beautiful... and I could never hate you."

Through the dark, he met my eyes and again, I noticed that he was smiling without moving his lips. Again, it amazed me how he could do that. After that, he fixed his gaze to the ceiling as though he caught something interesting in there. I, on the other hand, hugged my knees and pretended to busy myself watching my freezing toes as I wriggled them.

All I could sense was his quiet steady breathing and rustling of dried leaves as the wind swept softly on the forest floor. I believed in the phrase 'It only takes three seconds of silence to feel awkward' but somehow, I just felt at peace. Perhaps it was the familiar thing having its way with me.

"I was just thinking," I began after a while. "We've been in each other's bad side since I can remember. And seeing as we have no choice but to be stuck with each other, maybe we could start over as friends?"

There was a brief pause and for a moment I was afraid he wouldn't answer or worse, reject my truce proposal. But then, he just let out a low "Hmm..." of agreement. Or at least I thought it was.

"Okay..." I breathed out in relief. "That's good then."

I felt a weight slowly sag on my shoulder. When I turned to look, I realized it was Vincent's head leaning on me. He fell asleep.

I straightened up, careful not to make a sudden move so as not to wake him up, thinking that he might not be as cold-hearted as I thought he was. After all, under that indifferent, uncaring façade, there was this other side to Vincent that he almost never let anyone else see.

"Good night, master."