His Captured Curiosity

Chapter 16 - Cringe or Comfort

"Hello!" Vanessa calls out as she enters her home. I hear her abruptly pause as I presume she's noticed the flowers I had placed neatly on the bench.

I'm lurking on the edge of my bed, stomach in knots as I anticipate her reaction and my explanation.

"Esmeralda?!" Vanessa calls out suddenly startled, her voice pitched alarmingly high. I jolt from my room and dash into the space, not understanding her panic and feeling foolish to be acting like this in such a serious climate.

"Oh good, you're here!" Vanessa whooshes her hand on her chest as I skid over the tiles in my socks, eyes wide. Her relief is apparent as she sags into the stool by the bench, directly in front of the impressive display of flowers.

"Did he send you these?" she questions, now turning her focus to the bouquet. I cringe as she plucks a rose and pulls a face.

"I don't know how he figured out our address, but it's okay, I'll find us somewhere else to stay for a while. Esmeralda, I'd start packing, we're sitting ducks," Vanessa instructs. My cheeks start to blaze as she scoops up the vase and begins striding her way over to the bin in the corner.

I'm surprised by her energy, considering she's just finished a ten hour shift, but I suppose a cop never really switches off as her gleaming uniform hugs her form.

"Uh, nope, no sitting ducks here... I actually got them for you." I try to sound casual and light but my red cheeks and the dread in my eyes speak louder than words and causes Vanessa to spin around with panic.

"Oh... Oh! I thought... Ugh, I'm sorry Esmeralda, they are really nice," she attempts to soothe, but it only makes me feel more dreadful as I force a laugh to bubble up and attempt to change the atmosphere in the awkward room.

"It's no big deal, I just wanted to say thanks, you know, for not being just another dicky New Yorker... That's all."

"Oh, you didn't have to Esmeralda. It's my job!" Vanessa laughs, her tinkling chuckle causes my eyes to drop to the floor as I rub a hand up my arm nervously.

It would take a real idiot to not pick up on my discomfort, and Vanessa is brighter than most, so she places the flowers back on the bench and purposely takes a flower out, stroking the petal as she glances between it and me.

Her eyes widening while mine remain firmly on the floor.

"Esmeralda..." Vanessa begins, her voice low. I hear the pitying tones beneath it and feeling flustered and like a child, my embarrassment evolves into frustration as my eyes sharpen.

"It's just that my job has rules..." Vanessa continues. I notice that she doesn't outwardly deny that she could find me attractive, but instead leans on her career as a way to soften the blow.

But a blow from a pillow can still leave you concussed or, better yet, smothered, which I'd currently much rather prefer.

"No, I get it. I'm sorry, it was stupid and I should be focusing on the people dying around me," I deadpan. I know my actions are selfish, but as I turn to enter my room, I find that I hardly even care as Vanessa's brow crumbles behind my back.

"Do you want to make dinner soon? I'll just go get changed and make a quick personal phone call," Vanessa calls out, her voice monotone.

As I make my way down the hall, I call out a brief, "Sure thing!". My voice drips with fake excitement as I enter my room and close the door by leaning my back against it. I take in a heaving breath with embarrassed tears cloaking my vision.

I hear Vanessa's door softly close and I clench my eyes tightly shut, demanding the tears to fade. I'm grateful it works as I pierce the room with my striking gaze. Sitting on the bed, I grab my pillow and hug it tightly to my form and begin to slowly rock as my head starts swirling with the names of those dead around me.