Vincent x Reader (Asylum)

Chapter 13 ~ Locked Away

I fell asleep in Vincent's arms, I slept rather well. I didn't remember my dreams, but when I woke up I felt super happy, which meant I probably had a good dream. Even though I woke up happy, Vincent seemed worried and in a frantic rush.

"What's wrong?" I asked. Vincent looked at me, he was going to say something but he was interrupted.

Knock knock knock

"Just be really quiet and they'll go away," I whispered. Vincent looked at me with a grin tugging at his lips. I motioned my hand for Vincent to come over. He slowly neared me and crawled onto the bed, Vincent hadn't put a shirt on since last night. All of his scars were still showing.

"I want to stay here all day," Vincent sighed. I nodded and laid my hands on his head, playing with his hair. Vincent wrapped his arms around my stomach and buried his face into my side. I slid my hands down and ran my fingers over a few of the scars that lined Vincent's shoulders. Vincent stiffened at my touch, I lifted my hand away.

"Do you want me to not do that?" I asked. Vincent looked up at me, staring straight into my eyes.

"Can I touch your scars?" Vincent asked. I was sent into a sudden flashback, one of when I was younger.

"(Y/N) I'M GETTING REAL SICK OF YOUR SHIT!" I heard my father scream. I ran down the stairs to see my father holding a kitchen knife; the kitchen knife I had used to cut myself.

"I-I'm sorry," I apologized. I had a small nine year old voice. My father came towards me with the blood stained knife, he pressed it against my face.

"I swear to god if I catch you doing something that's going to make me look like a bad father I'm going to send you away," he growled. The knife slid across my cheek and left a thin cut in its path, "You see all this?" my father held up my arms and ripped off my shirt. "This just because you are just some attention seeking bitch," he sneered. I began to break down crying, my father slapped me across the face and left.

I was sobbing in Vincent's arms. I felt scared and paranoid. I quickly wriggled my way out of Vincent's grasp, I sprinted to the bathroom. I locked the door behind me.

"(Y/n) wait," Vincent called helplessly. I ignored him and sat down in the bathtub and tried to calm myself down. "Please come out," he knocked on the door a few times.

"Go away!" I retorted. I curled up in the bathtub; almost glad that it was large, so I would have room to spread out a little.

"No (y/n) please come out," Vincent pleaded. I refused to listen and sat in the tub with my own pity party. I cried and looked down at my scars. I wasn't an attention seeker, right? I suddenly felt ashamed of my scars and grabbed a towel to cover them. I felt disgusted with myself, embarrassed, that I had these pathetic little lines covering my legs and torso. I wish I'd never resorted to hurting myself.

Time skip

It was dark out, the skylight was now pitch black. My eyes probably looked blood shot and I probably had dark circles too. I slowly got out of the tub, the tiles felt cold under my feet. It was dead silent as well, maybe Vincent was asleep. I stood up fully and walked over to the door. I avoided the mirror, terrified of what I looked like. I felt sick inside, each step I took, made me feel heavier and colder. I felt short winded, my heart beat slowly.

I finally reached the door, I laid my fingers on the door knob. It felt warm against my skin. I slowly pushed it down, I heard a small click. I pushed on the door, it swung open with ease. I completely stopped in my tracks with what I saw next.

Vincent was sitting on the floor, alone. He had his knees brought up to his chest. His head rested on his knees and was facing to the left; his hands were on either side of him. I took a step towards him, the floor boards creaked and Vincent snapped up. He stared at me, completely silent. I could almost read what his eyes were saying.

Are you okay?

"I'm fine," I said involuntarily. Vincent got up, he was now standing close to me.

"I'm afraid to touch you," he whispered. I knew I shouldn't have acted out in such a horrible way. One part of me longed to hug Vincent, the other part of me screamed at me to go and sleep in Sam's room.

Well, guess which side won.

I ran out of our apartment, Vincent didn't bother to chase me. Guilt was already beginning to set in; but I wasn't going to give up yet. I found Sam's room across the hall and began knocking quite violently on the door.

"(y/n) what's going on?" Sam asked. I just stared at her, hoping she'd understand. Sam nodded and opened the door wide enough for me to slip in. I collapsed on the floor once inside. Mike and Jeremy were sitting in the living room, both were in their pajamas.

"Holy shit," Mike jumped at the sight of me. Sam walked into the kitchen and grabbed a glass. She filled it with cold ice water and brought it to me, "did Vincent do something to you?" Mike asked. I stay still, Sam laid the glass of water in front of me. I wrapped my hand around it and waited to feel the cool condensation on my hand.

"Alright, I'll sit here for as long as it takes," Sam started. She sat down in front of me. She shooed Mike and Jeremy to the other room. "What happened?"

"Flashback," I sighed. I held onto the glass I had really tightly. Samantha nodded and stood up. She moved a few pillows around and grabbed a blanket out of the ottoman.

"Alright, come on, it's almost morning, get some sleep," Samantha said. I quickly got up and flopped onto the couch.

I drifted off to sleep almost immediately.