Moving In - A Vinnie Hacker Story

Moving In S2 Pt23 - Touch

I place my hand on her leg so she knows I'm there for her and I love her. Then, she jumps into my arms, hugging me even tighter than on the side of the road.

Sobs tear through her body as she lets them out. It's not pent-up frustration, so I know that she already cried like this tonight. Just the thought of that makes my stomach churn. How many times can I make her cry in 24 hours and still ask her to stay with me? At what point is it selfish to hold onto her?

But, I don't care right now. Because as her cries subside in my arms, I know that this is where I need to be—with her.

—

*Y/n's POV*

I held onto Vinnie as if my life depended on it a few minutes ago. I needed to wash off my body, feeling dirty from the past day. Vinnie went into another room to shower, giving me space.

I ran myself a bath and I have been in the water for about five minutes. I forgot how relaxing it is to just let your mind go in the water. I didn't think. I had no thoughts.

After another five minutes, I hear Vinnie open his bedroom door, and then one of his drawers. He probably put some clothes on and is waiting for me to finish in the bathroom, so he can brush his teeth.

I start to feel icky in the bath as it cools to room temperature and I get out. I wrap myself in a towel, drain the bath, brush my teeth and hair, and put on my nighttime skincare products.

I open to bathroom door to see Vinnie laying out my favorite comfy sweats on the bed. He knows me so well, too well. I smile at him as he goes into the bathroom to get ready.

I put on the clothes he laid out and hop into the bed on my side. Vinnie made the room colder so we could both wear warm clothes. I love if when he makes small gestures like that. I also know that he will not try and get in my pants tonight, so I'm happy with my clothes option.

He comes out of the bathroom looking refreshed, but sad. I hate seeing pain behind his eyes. He's beating himself up for last night, probably miserable at seeing his reflection.

He crawls into bed and stays some distance away from me, giving me space to make the first move on whether or not to touch him.

We face each other, examining each other's eyes for a hint of something... anything. I lean in to kiss him, because it is all I want to do. He reciprocates and our lips brush each other's. He kisses me so lightly, like he's afraid I'll run away again. But he's right. We shouldn't be kissing right now. We should be sleeping, turned away from each other. The most we should do is spoon. But, I couldn't help myself. His perfect, full lips were begging me to taste them again, and again, and again.

The second he put his hand on my cheek to pull me closer to him, I had a reality check. I sort of swatted his hand away and backed up. I turned around to face the wall and I heard him let out a ragged sigh.

My heart broke a bit again when I heard him sniffle before he shifted to face the other wall. Why did I have to kiss him? Why did I rush it? We weren't ready yet. I wasn't ready.

I can only imagine how much he hates me. I know he loves me, but there was hate behind his eyes last night, too. Somewhere under all the layers of aching love, there's a burning hate that he has for me. I know because I have it too. I know what it looks like because I'm experiencing it.