𝐖𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐍𝐃 ★ VELVET & VENEER

chapter fifteen

chapter fifteen

zero bars up in this bitch (pls send help, preferably some service and melatonin) costed me an arm and a leg just to publish this chapter. heavily sleep deprived please excuse anything that makes zero sense myeahaha

!

"I wasn't... myself."

"Roy tends to bring out the worst in people."

"No! I mean, yes. But you don't understand. I've never wanted to hurt somebody so... badly. He was just going to ruin everything." Ritz speaks, voice strained.

Ruin everything?

"Listen, it's okay! Let's just... move past it?" You suggest, a bit awkwardly, but benevolent nevertheless, "The media's definitely going to have a field day, but I'd never blame you for swinging at Roy first, you know that."

Nobody can condemn you for being on edge about Ritz's behaviour. Not after everything you've been through. Perpetual trauma, and all that. Despite that being the case, you can't bring yourself to believe that Ritz has problems like the vast majority around you. And even if he does, which you refuse to surmise, it can't possibly be anything compared to... well, you know. Everything else.

"I mean, if anything, it was satisfying to watch." You laugh.

"What if he's right?" Ritz winces, "God, I think he's right."

"Ritz, he was only riling you up. The guy's like... well, obsessed is honestly an understatement. You're nothing like that douchebag. You're a much better person."

"Oh, god," Ritz rubs his face with his hands, exasperated, "He's right. You're driving me crazy."

Oh. Okay. How'd this swing back to you?

"Sorry! I didn't mean it in a bad way! As in, ever since we've met, you're all I can think about. That's what I meant." He wants to say more, but you can tell he holds his tongue.

You exhale in amusement, "All you can think about?"

"All. I can't even focus on my work. I wasn't even in the area yesterday— I don't know why I said that. I ordered the pastry the night before." He groans, embarrassed.

"And thank you! It would've been really nice if, yeah..." You drift off, disposition gentle as you stir the iced drink sitting before you, "Don't let him get to you."

Last night, you'd invited Ritz to a local café. To talk things over. Smoothen the rough edges. He, of course, had answered immediately and profusely agreed. The first thing he had done when he'd saw you arrive for brunch, was pull you into a tight embrace and mutter feverish apologies. Actually, you think he might've been on the verge of tears, but had decided against saying anything. Poor guy.

"He won't— I won't let him. But..." Ritz averts his eyes shyly, "I think..."

"You think?"

"I really like you. I like you a lot. More than I've ever liked anyone." He confesses, "And I don't know how to handle it."

In spite of the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, and the woozy spin in your head, you feel slightly torn. It's not necessarily abrupt; you've both been dropping hints here and there. You do feel as if you're forming some sort of crush; he's definitely what you look for in a lover, and more. But it's sudden to profess that you're into someone like this, don't you think? It's not been that long since you've known him. Admittedly, things feel like they're moving a bit fast. You'd argue that you hadn't known Velvet, Veneer or Roy for long before they'd bound some sort of infatuation. But they're not mentally well, and even you know that. Maybe you're just being paranoid. You've become a paranoid person. That's gotta be it.