This is part two of a special two-part chapter written in third person POV! Can you guys tell I struggle with third person yet? 😂
***
There wasn't a day that passed where Vincent didn't think about his mother. He had no idea whether he should have resented her, forgiven her, or sympathized. Six years wasn't enough to dwell on it, especially now that he was a ripe age of thirteen-years-old.
No one came to look for him. No one came to look for his mother either. Not Íngrid, not William. None of them. Did they ever take the time out of their day to look at all? Did they ever wonder why he and Mariana disappeared? Were they worried? He didn't know.
Perhaps Calamitous had gotten in contact with Valor, and they didn't want him back. After all, Mariana wasn't there anymore. She fled without a second thought. Maybe Amaruq and Lady Teresa found out no one knew where she went. Maybe it was better that way.
"Vincent"—Vincent heard Lady Teresa call his name over his head from the window above him—"you're skipping out on dinner again? Are you not hungry?"
Vincent's muscles tensed as he stopped tying his shoes. He breathed out a sigh and looked up, staring into her eyes. She challenged him with her gaze. It was pointed, questioning, and firm. Making him choose his next words wisely.
"I'd like to go for a run if that's okay with you," he said.
She narrowed her eyes, watching over him like a hawk. She was going to say no. He could feel it. Six years may not have been enough to understand his mother's decision, but it was certainly enough to learn to read Lady Teresa's body language.
"Mom, I think it'll be fine. I'll go along with him. Is that okay, Vincent?" another voice cut in. When Vincent looked over, he spotted the only person he'd grown an attachment to since he'd been here. Here Amaury was, riding in like his avenging angel to save him, as always.
Lady Teresa shot Amaury a look with her eyebrow raised. Amaury nodded his head and rested a hand on her shoulder. They shared some sort of unspoken communication Vincent still couldn't understand, even if he cared enough to. Regardless, Amaury's words seemed to have swayed her decision.
"Fine." She sighed. "But I'd genuinely appreciate it, if you didn't keep running off on your own without notifying one of us, Vincent. Communicate. That is all that is asked of you. Okay?"
"Yes, Lady Teresa. I'm sorry." Vincent slipped his hands into his khaki pockets and glanced at the ground. He kicked the gravel under his sneakers, watching the dust particles float into the air. It was all he could until she no longer scorned him with her eyes.
When would she have enough? He'd often wondered the answer to that question. They'd been dealing with his tardiness since Amaury's wolf stumbled upon him outside the entrance—cold, hungry, and confused. Amaury had a hard time removing his eyes off of his small frame.
He hardly spoke. When he did, he asked for his mother. But he never got her. Still now, Vincent always apologized then regressed back into his old ways the next day. Lady Teresa knew that very well, though she accepted his apologies anyways. It was a basic routine for them.
"I want you to at least fill your stomach when you get back. You cannot become a strong, healthy wolf if you do not eat." Vincent was so lost in thought, he didn't notice Amaury and Teresa, had walked outside, and were now in his face. He stumbled back, putting distance in between them.
"I've already eaten this morning."
"One meal?" she questioned.
"You never said how much I had to eat. . . But I am taking care of myself. Just like you asked. I promise. I'm just not hungry right now." It was clear Vincent wasn't going to change his stance on the matter.
Lady Teresa sighed again, shaking her head. "Your stubbornness. . . It reminds me of her."
Vincent snarled out a growl through gritted teeth, surprising both of them. "I am nothing like my mother. She was a coward," he spat, repeating the words other young wolves had been repeating from their parents' mouths back to him, until he believed them.
Amaury's eyes widened, so did his mouth. Lady Teresa stood unfazed by Vincent's outburst. She looked down on him. It was similar to that of Amaruq looking down on him, showing no tolerance for his behavior.
It was then Vincent regretted his words and his actions. That was the first time he had ever spoken of his mother in that light. But it felt good to get that off his chest. Should it have felt good to talk so rudely of his mother like that? Probably not. That was the anger talking.
Lady Teresa decided on a calm approach. "If that is how you feel, I cannot change your mind, Vincent, my dear boy," she said, slowly. Her eyes fluttered open and closed as she washed her words down with a light intake of a breath.
Vincent frowned. Was that it? She wasn't going to scream at him? Lady Teresa had so many opportunities to yell at Vincent, put him in his place, and even punish him, when he reacted off raw emotions over the years, yet she did nothing. And it made him feel like crap.
"Come on." Amaury broke the thick silence. "Let's go for that run now."
"Sure," Vincent murmured.
The two walked forward in silence. The gates to the alpha's estate screeched open, then closed behind them. Vincent threw a glance back at Lady Teresa. She watched them go, her eyes remaining on him, still unmoving. He forced himself to look away, ignoring the guilt stirring in his stomach.
There weren't a lot of people roaming outside today. Vincent took notice of that. It wasn't like he cared anyways. The people of this pack couldn't care less what he was doing, let alone his well-being. So, there was no reason for him to care about theirs.
"That boy lacks discipline. Is it really okay for him to continue disrespecting the Alpha and Lady like that? Not even Amaury can get away with that. Their own son. If they can't make that boy show some decency and respect to his elders, then what?" a man grunted in the distance.
"It ain't easy to tame a stray who's been living under someone else's rules. Especially not one as spoiled as him. They're treating him like a pity case. Should've just let him go rogue then," another man responded.
"It's a shame he's got alpha blood in his genes. Sophia and Jared's son won't be next in line after Amaury anymore. Are they really just going to let someone's kid from another pack walk in here and be our next alpha?"
"I don't know. Looks that way. He's here to stay. Calamitous will just have to suck it up. He belongs to the Alpha and Lady now. That means he's fair game for the title."
Vincent could hear bystanders talking, as though he didn't have the ability to hear them, just like the women who gossiped about his mother. He tuned them out the best he could. He'd mesmerized their words by now. Same words, different coding, different day.
Vincent's face contorted in disgust at the houses they passed along the way through town.
He couldn't stand the sight of them. They were just like the houses in his pack, back home, at least when his home was still lively. For the first time last year, Vincent was able to find his way back to Valor. It was just after he turned twelve.
He had run away, in hopes of learning a truth, deep down, he already knew. But his home wasn't waiting for him. A dry land full of old, empty, worn-out houses awaited him instead. Everyone and everything he knew was gone. Could something terrible have happened to them?
He didn't think he'd ever find the answers. Disappointed, was an understatement to describe the spirit he felt being crushed within him at the scene. Did Lady Teresa and Amaruq know? Maybe. He'd always assumed they hid things from him. There was no doubt about it.
"Did you really eat today?" Amaury sparked another conversation, pushing Vincent out of his thoughts once again.
Vincent shrugged. "Yeah, I guess."
"Are you lying to me and my mother again?" Amaury took Vincent's silence as a yes. He sighed and laughed under his breath. "So, you are. Been there. Done that. You can't use the same tricks on me that I've used on my parents for twenty-years, Vincey-boy."
Vincent groaned and crossed his arms. "Please stop with the nickname." He'd told Amaury many times how much he hated that nickname. However, Amaury wasn't someone he could easily dismantle, and push away, like the rest.
Amaury had some sort of spunk to him that Vincent didn't know how to accept. Sure, Lady Teresa was patient with him. Her and Amaruq were kind enough to open their home to him when his mother left him in their care. But he didn't see what he saw in Amaury, in them.
"I'll stop with the nickname when you stop with the attitude. How's that sound?" Amaury slowed in his tracks, causing Vincent to slow in his too.
Vincent dug the tip of his sneaker into the concrete, creasing the upper-half. His hands were back in his pockets, the guilt exploding in his gut again. It spread through his veins, down to his limbs, making him stiffen.
"Okay so, I didn't have a meal. . ." Vincent began, "I just had a small snack this afternoon. But I didn't lie to her when I said I was taking care of myself! I gave her my word, that I would."
"Wow. Progress after six years? I'm amazed. So, do you have something other than anger in you." Vincent didn't need to look up to know there was a smile on Amaury's face. "Seriously though, you don't have to act like a dick when you're unsure. Communicating goes a long way."
"We're not actually related," Vincent said, slowly, "you know that, right?"
"What? We need to be blood-related for me to step in and act like a big brother? Psh. Give me a break. You've got a lot to learn, kid." Amaury laughed.
"Oh. Right. Um. . . So, about that run," Vincent trailed off.
Amaury sobered up. But before he could speak, another voice joined them.
"Hey, Vince," a soft voice spoke.
Both heads turned to the girl with pale skin, dressed down in a black, jean overall dress. Vincent blew out a breath. Of course, it was her, was his first thought. Claudia King was one of the most angelic wolves to walk these grounds. Too bad, she still couldn't remember his name.
"My name is Vincent," Vincent stated, flatly.
"Right. Vincent," Claudia corrected herself, wincing. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
Behind her, were four other teens around his age. He'd recognized all of them but only knew two by name. Everyone knew of the infamous Hudson Davis teen, belonging to one of the most prominent families among this pack. Outspoken, spoiled. He was the definition of a true brat.
Hudson had made it clear he didn't want Vincent around when he refused to let him join his crowd for any activities they did. On the other hand, Bennett Cox was none other than the son of Calamitous' beta, Jared. Cool, easy-going, and a force to be reckoned with thanks to his parents.
"We're down a few players for manhunt. We usually try to play with ten people. Do you want to play with us? We're going to shift and play outside the entrance."
Vincent peeked over her shoulders. He clenched his teeth and rolled his eyes. Bennett didn't look bothered by the suggestion. However, Hudson, and the other three stooges couldn't have been any more obvious about their distaste.
Vincent chose his words carefully. "Thanks, but no thanks. I'm sure your friends aren't too pleased with the idea of me being your first pick. They probably didn't agree."
"It doesn't matter. Claudia and I wanted to ask you. If they don't want to play anymore because of you, then they don't have to"—Bennett stepped to Claudia's side—"we're going to ask Dylan and Dimitri to join us too. You know them, don't you?"
Dimitri and Dylan were an odd pair. Always glued together, doing their own thing. They acted just as indifferent towards him as Bennett and Claudia did. He thought Bennett would have at least showed some anger, considering the circumstances, but there was none on his part.
"It's okay, guys. Vincent and I were just about to go for a run anyways. Thanks for asking him though. That was nice of you." Amaury beamed at them with a smile.
"Oh, okay." Claudia frowned. "Maybe next time, yeah, Vincent?"
Vincent shrugged, avoiding her gaze. "Sure, I don't know. Maybe." Claudia and Bennett shared a look, then began on their way back towards the small group awaiting them. Vincent heard Hudson's voice as soon as they all started walking away. He slapped Bennett on the back, scoffing with irritation.
"Geez Bennett, why do you have to say such asshole-ish things like that?"
"Because it's true. We either work with what we've got and play the game, or don't. No one's holding a gun to you guy's head and forcing you to play." Bennett growled.
"You're such an ass kisser." Hudson rolled his eyes.
Vincent tuned them out, turning his attention back to Amaury.
"I think Claudia and Bennett actually like you," he said.
"Eh, I guess." Vincent's shoulders slouched, his back hunching in the process. "I don't care."
"Hmm, oh yeah, about the run"—Amaury's gaze sliced through Vincent's confidence—"I know where you're really going." With those few words, Vincent crumbled.
"W-what?" he stuttered.
Amaury noticed the sweat glistening along Vincent's pores. "That human friend you made. I know about him. You're going to see him again, aren't you?" he asked.
Vincent's bottom lip lowered; his saliva caught in his throat.
What should he have said? No one knew about his friend. Meeting Alexander in the woods six months ago was a fluke—an accident that should have never happened. How could Vincent have been so careless as to have been caught by a human shifting in the woods?
"I'll tell you what. I won't tell mom and dad where you're really going. But you have to meet me back at our spot before seven. You have two hours. I'll be waiting there."
"Two hours. Okay. I can be back by then," Vincent agreed, quickly.
Amaury lowered his voice, glancing around. "Vincent. . . Does that kid know what we are?"
"He does," Vincent assured, "but he only knows about me. I'm always careful around him."
"Yeah but, it's not you I'm worried about"—Amaury sighed and shook his head—"never mind. I'm . . . sure you'll be fine."
It didn't take rocket science for Vincent to see Amaury was resisting the urge to say more. He could tell he wanted to. Amaury's eyebrows were drawn together. His fists were clenched at his sides, and his lips were pressed together in a thin line.
There was something he wasn't telling him. Something that felt important, that he needed to know. It was the same thing his mother did when she informed him of his father's death. She hadn't told him what killed his father, exactly. All he knew was, it was an unfortunate event.
Nonetheless, Vincent chose not to dwell on it for too long.
* * *
Alexander wasn't home. Vincent had made the run into Havford for nothing.
Heavy pants filled his wolf's chest, and bellowed out into the cool, crisp air, that molded his breaths white. The colorful forest leaves rose with his paws, thumping against the hard, soiled ground. He was running so fast; he was unaware of the trouble brewing ahead.
It was in the form of a silver, metal, claw-like contraption that snapped shut right on Vincent's fur, the moment his paw dug into it. A loud howl ripped through the cloudy skies, followed by the sound of the bear trap joining its teeth.
Before Vincent could make another sound, the sound of strings cutting loose, triggered a domino effect with the birds in the trees, taking flight. Pounds of rope entrapped Vincent's wolf in a small net around him that flung into the air.
His front and back legs were clustered together tightly, the bear trap still pressing into the flesh on his paw. The net was squeezing tight enough already. Any small movements caused a whimper to leave his mouth.
Further in the distance, footsteps bled into Vincent's ears. His uneven breathing picked up the pace. He knew he couldn't breathe. Not with the panic swarming in his chest. He tried to wiggle around but it hurt too much to move. The footsteps were getting closer, and so were voices.
"Dad, you caught something!" He knew that voice. He knew that smell too. "Uncle Tom! Uncle Rob! Mr. George! Mr. Paul! Come quick!" the voice screamed.
Vincent's eyes strained to find the culprits. A young male pranced through the trees, his black curls bouncing on his head. Vincent's heart picked up speed too. He knew that boy's face at first glance. Alexander's smile was at its peak, glowing with excitement.
However, when Alexander's eyes landed on Vincent's distraught image, his smile dropped.
"He caught a wolf. . ." Alexander whispered in disbelief.
"What was that, Alex!?"
Alexander pushed his father's voice to the back of his mind. There were no wolves roaming freely Upstate, New York. Especially in this area. He'd know. His father, his uncle's, and his father's friends had been hunting in these parts for as long as Alexander could shoot a bow.
But it didn't take long for him to recognize the area they were in. And he remembered. He'd only ever met one black wolf in the thick woods of this area before. He had saw the mysterious being shift, nearly scaring the pants off of him.
Alexander's eyes met the wolf's pleading ones, and he immediately caught onto the similarities. The fur, the eyes, the connection. There was no way that could have been just a normal wolf. Judging by the look the wolf was giving him, it felt like it could have been someone he knew very well. Or maybe it was.
The air left Alexander's lungs. "Vincent?"
He couldn't have been sure. It was a wild guess. But it made the most sense in his head.
When he and his father put up the trap this morning, it was meant for animals smaller than deer. Something like wild turkey and even smaller. But Vincent's wolf was nearly the same size as a fawn. The trap was too small for his wolf's body to handle. Alexander could see he was in pain, cramped up in a small space that was scarring his sides.
"Shit. What do I do?" Alexander bit at his nails, anxiously.
Vincent whimpered and gestured to the bear trap that was still around his paw. He'd been ignoring the smell of his own blood easing into his nose. But he could no longer turn a blind eye to it. It was beginning to slide down his fur, more than likely drying along the way.
Alexander took notice, and dropped his bow on the ground. "Vincent, is that really you? Shit. This isn't good. My father can't see you!" Alexander hissed, panicking.
No matter how much he tugged at the rope, his strength did nothing. The rope was thin but too tight to get a good grip. If anything, it squeezed Vincent again. Vincent winced and closed his eyes, a growl snapping from in between his jaw. The rope was now tightened even more.
It dug deeper into the coat of fur, that was supposed to be protecting him. And he could feel the rope continuing its assault on his side. The movements didn't help. Whenever Alexander tugged, the rope moved back and forth against Vincent's body, burning him in the same spots.
Vincent's jaw clenched together. He wanted to scream out how much pain he was in. He wanted nothing but this awful trap to release him. But Alexander just wasn't able to help. They were both helpless.
"Crap, they're coming. Dammit. I'm so sorry, Vincent," Alexander seethed. He hurried off to the side, abandoning the net. Vincent tried to tilt his head. All he was able to see was the group of men approaching the net. He could hardly see anything else in his surroundings.
"Holy shit, Derek. Is that a wolf?" one of the men asked.
"What? You're shitting me. . . holy shit, it is a wolf. What the hell is a wolf doing out here? It's black too," the man named Derek, Alexander's father, spoke. Alexander's pulse was racing.
He wasn't supposed to let his father see Vincent. He couldn't let his father see Vincent. Alexander knew what his father did to animals like Vincent. Him and his men weren't the average everyday hunters. They were poachers, mainly hunting for sport. To kill. To sell.
"I've got no idea, but shit. What do we do?"
"Its coat is gorgeous. How much do you think we'd get? I know a few guys who would be interested in wolf skin. Wolf looks to be in good condition too." one of the other men spoke up.
Chills shot up their spines. No. They couldn't do that. Could they? They couldn't. That was illegal, wasn't it? Vincent didn't know anymore. He cursed himself for falling into such a stupid trap. If only he had taken the time to look ahead, and spot the bear trap, and the net.
He needed to keep telling himself that. This was the biggest taste of the outside world he'd ever gotten. And right now, it wasn't as sweet as people made it seem. Were all humans like this? No. That couldn't have been the case. Alexander wouldn't let his father hurt him.
Vincent's wolf was a huge money grab. It was either he allowed them to skin him alive or he shifted. But if he shifted, he was still going to be stuck in the net. And the net wouldn't save him from unveiling the secret of wolf shifters living among them.
"We should let it loose," Alexander said the words before he could stop them.
"What was that?" Derek turned his head, narrowing his eyes at his son.
"I-I said. . ." Alexander gulped, eyeing Vincent.
He felt the fear in Vincent's eyes. It crept into him, begging him to do the right thing. But there was something Vincent should have realized sooner. Alexander feared betraying his father more than he feared betraying Vincent. His father wasn't one to be told no. After all, he was the one Alexander needed to live with, and make sure he was proud. Not Vincent.
"I didn't say anything. . ." Alexander shut his mouth and avoided his father's heavy stare.
Vincent's whimpering stopped. His blood stopped flowing. His brain stopped working. He froze completely, forgetting all about the pain that was coursing through him from head to toe. All because he couldn't stop staring at Alexander, in a state of disbelief.
It was then Vincent knew, for sure, whose side Alexander was on.
"Alright then, let's cut him down." Derek began walking closer to the net.
Vincent's nose flared with anger. He growled out his disapproval, swinging his body in the net every time any of the men got close enough to touch him. For a second, he thought his tactic was working, until he saw the gun in one of the men's hands.
The gun was being loaded with what looked like a dart. His heart sank. He was going to be tranquilized. As a last-minute resort, Vincent let out one more howl. It was a long, drawn-out noise that translated his distress into a call for help.
* * *
Vincent stirred against the warm sheets soothing his skin. His eyes cracked open at the light peering down from above the ceiling. The window's shades were closed, but he could see the darkness seeping into the room from underneath.
"For that boy to end up in the same predicament as his father. . . Tch, the universe must be playing some cruel trick on him." Lady Teresa's voice was barely audible to Vincent.
He'd heard a sigh next. "It was my mistake. I shouldn't have let him go on his own in the first place. If I'd known they were a family of poachers, I would have warned him about that boy. I mean, it was mere coincidence he ran into them in the middle of the woods, but still." The voice speaking couldn't have belonged to anyone else but Amaury.
"He's deceived us all. But you, Amaury, I am very disappointed in." He imagined Lady Teresa shaking her head as she'd always done when one of them screwed up.
Vincent closed his eyes and listened. The eavesdropping didn't last for long though, because his chest broke into a fit of coughs, blowing his cover. Silence paraded between whoever else was outside the room.
"We'll address that issue later, Amaury. He is awake."
Vincent smelled Amaruq entering the room before he heard his voice. The door opened with a soft creak. All three of them walked in one after the other. Vincent attempted to sit up, however, his body ached when he did. He couldn't quite see well either with vision that was still slightly blurry.
"Careful boy, your body is still trying to sleep off that tranquilizing dart," Amaruq grunted.
Vincent's lips curved down. He rubbed his eyes. "What? Did I actually get shot with one?"
"You did," Lady Teresa sat on the edge of his bed. She crossed her legs and rested her folded hands, on top of her knees, facing him. He focused on the gold shimmering from her dress, in order to follow her movements clearly.
"Oh"—Vincent stared down at his lap—"how'd I get back here then?"
"Amaury, Amaruq, and Jared found you tied up on the ground with poachers surrounding you. There was a muzzle around your jaw and you were bleeding. Amaruq and Jared chased them away. Amaury untied you and they all hauled you back here."
Vincent rubbed at his arms now, looking over at Amaury and Amaruq. "How did you know where to find me?"
"I heard your cries for help," Amaury mumbled.
Why did that sound so familiar? Cold, hungry, and confused. Again, it had been Amaury to save him. This time, he was defenseless too. Vincent didn't think he could have looked any more pathetic than that. So much for being the son of an alpha.
"Wait, what about Alexander!?" Vincent shot up, ignoring the ache shooting up his side.
Amaruq walked towards the bed in slow, daunting steps. Vincent's shoulders tensed. It was hard not to, when Amaruq was shedding a serious aura. "Are you talking about the human boy you were so fond of? He fled with those men when we chased them off," he said, flatly.
Vincent's heart sank again. He should have expected no less. When Alexander didn't choose to help him, he should've abandoned all hope. At first, he did. But when he had awakened here, he thought maybe Alexander had a change of heart. He now knew it was foolish of him to think Alexander would choose him over his own family.
"I trusted him. . ." Vincent said, more to himself, laughing. "I thought he'd save me."
"You thought he would. But he didn't"—Lady Teresa laid a hand on Vincent's foot that'd been shielded by the blankets—"we all make mistakes sometimes when it comes to people."
"Teresa is right. Besides, sometimes the people we trust shouldn't be trusted. It's not always our fault for not knowing," Amaruq added. "You are lucky this incident didn't cost you your life. I hope you take something from this and learn—"
Vincent cut him off, "Is it true?"
"Pardon me?"
"Did my father die by the hands of poachers too?"
Amaruq sighed and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, Vincent's eyes were already searching his face for answers. "Not poachers exactly. Regular hunters."
Vincent gritted his teeth. A surge of anger shot through him that he couldn't control. He clenched the top of the blanket in his hands, asking, "Why didn't my mother just tell me that?"
Lady Teresa chimed in again, "You were seven-years-old Vincent. She might've thought you were too young to understand."
"When was I going to find out then?"
"Whenever you were ready, and you asked," Lady Teresa retorted.
Vincent piped down, his mouth closing instantly. Tension hung in the air. Vincent's chest bounced with emotions. Several of them, he didn't know how to convey. After all, there were plenty of ways he could have gone about this situation. Apologizing was one of them.
Amaruq cleared his throat and gestured to the side with a nod of his head. "Come with me for a second please, Teresa?"
Lady Teresa cocked an eyebrow at him. His face remained stoic and blank. So, she sighed, and stood to her feet. "Excuse me, boys. We'll be right back," she announced with a slight bow, before they exited the room.
"I'm sorry I got you in trouble."
"Don't worry about it. It's my own fault. That's what I get for being too cocky earlier about the deception"—Amaury chuckled and shrugged—"I'll take whatever punishment is coming my way."
"Do you think these scars will go away? That rope hurt like hell. . . I don't even know what they did to me when they cut me down and tied me up. . ." Vincent murmured under his breath.
"Truthfully, I don't know. . ."
Vincent hummed in reply to Amaury. He was lost in thought, brushing his fingers along the bright red marks bruising the side of his rib cage. Would they heal? How would they look afterwards? He didn't know. It was always a hit or miss, with these kinds of things.
"Thank you . . . for, I guess, risking your life for me."
"Does this mean you accept our gratitude now?" Amaury grinned.
Vincent stayed quiet. Amaury took a step forward, reaching his hand out in front of Vincent.
One of Vincent's eyebrows raised in the air. A skeptical expression took over his face as he eyed Amaury's hand. When Amaury moved his hand closer, he realized he wanted him to take it. Slowly, he placed his smaller hand into Amaury's larger one.
"We're not here to harm you, you know? And we're not going to let anyone harm you either. You know that too, right? We'll never replace your mother. Or your father. Or your pack. But we're here to help. Staying in Calamitous doesn't have to feel so lonely.
"Do you know why I introduced you to my secret hide-out spot in that cave, tunnel place? Because I feel protected there. . . I'll always be around to protect you, Vincey-boy, if you want me to. Literally and figuratively." Amaury smiled with pleasure, gripping Vincent's hand tight.
Vincent felt his body jolt forward. He didn't understand what was happening at first. But he felt his limbs quaking with animosity, and Amaury squeezing his hand for assurance. He couldn't believe he was shaking.
What was wrong with him? His mind must have gone off the deep end, he thought.
His bottom lip quivered. Starting out slow and easy, his quivering lip turned him into a quivering mess, where his body trembled beneath him. He wiped at his eyes, and wiped at his eyes, unable to control the tears beginning to leak from them.
It'd been so long since he cried. Six years, give or take, since he last saw Mariana running away from him. It was hard to stop now. Crying until he was all dried out, was his only option.