The loud boom of thunder echoes through the apartment , vibrating the windows . The blue flashes of light lights up the room with each flicker of lightning in the sky .
My eyes are glued on Vincent's face , taking in his sleeping appearance. He looks so innocent and normal when he sleeps . Looking at him here and now , I wont be able to...murder him.
It's not something I think I will be able to do . To anyone in general.
The tips of my fingers gently glide along the surface of his face, softly grazing his fair skin . I just want to stay in this moment forever . When everything is okay and Vincent isn't capable of hurting me . Where time is halted and everyone is asleep , the only thing awake right now being the anger stirring in the storm above us .
Vincent's eyelids contract as he slowly wakes up. I freeze with my index finger on the bridge of his nose as his eyes snap open and land on me . His arm shoots up and snatches my wrist in his iron grip . I gasp when he jerks me forward with a cold glare.
"Dont touch me when I'm sleeping."he hisses with hooded eyes before dropping my wrist and turning on his side and facing away from me.
"Sorry."I whisper while looking at my sore wrist , the throbbing increasing as a light bruise starts to form.
Even in his sleep his body is against me.
When he came home from his 'meeting' he completely ignored me and went upstairs to take a bath . He hadnt come out until an hour later .
After that he went to bed and left me alone .
I'm not one to be clingy or emotional but Vincent cant expect me to act as if he didnt kiss me earlier this afternoon . I may despise the guy for being a murderer but he cant seduce me for months, and then when something finally happens between us, ignore me completely.
With a groan I stand up from the bed , voluntarily inviting the ice cold air of the night to tear up my skin and send me shivering . My bare feet softly tap against the wooden floor as I make my way towards the kitchen area to grab a bottle of water but loud banging from downstairs sends a wave of anxiety through me.
Oh.
The windows.
I force myself to go downstairs and find a way to shut the windows . I dont know how the hell Vincent can live with such a disturbing noise .
As I make it downstairs my eyes land on the loose window being pulled open and slammed shut by the wind , as if nature is deliberately tormenting me .
I ball my hands into fists by my sides before frantically searching for something to tie the window shut .
I dig through the different drawers and boxes ,only to find nothing but paints and brushes .
Out of an entire studio , how is there not a single piece of string or wire?
My fingers grabs onto pieces of my hair as frustration clouds my sense of judgment.
The banging of the window is so loud and annoying!
Bang.
Bang.
Bang.
Just like my fists were banging on the closet door Vincent had thrown me in a few months ago. Loud and continuous .
My ears paining from the sound , my fists aching from hitting the hard wood of the door .
Vincent.
If he had just fixed the windows I wouldn't be down here losing my freaking mind! If he handnt thrown me in the closet ....
My eyes snap to the drying portrait I had finished painting of Vincent . His face staring back at me . His stupid face .
I grab a nearby palette knife, the metal handle cold in my hand as I make my way towards the painting.
Stupid Vincent.
Why do I always find myself thinking about how irritating he is ? And why do I always forget that that's who he is when he is around ?
Why cant I just hate the guy like a normal person would? Like the old me would?
I raise the knife in the air , ready to tear into the canvas and destroy the beauty in front of me . Until a firm grasp around my wrist startles me and causes me to drop the knife to the floor.
"Why would you attempt such a monstrous thing?"he clicks his tongue as he let's go of me.
"Vincent, "I gasp and turns around to see his tired eyes staring down at me .
"What are you doing up?"
He bends down with a groan and picks up the knife off the ground.
"You were loud enough to wake me . "He grumbles and taps the flat side of the palette knife in his palm in a rhythmic beat .
"I'm sorry . The window was annoying me and I tried-"
"I dont care ."he cuts me off . A loud crack of thunder makes me jump as Vincent stares down at me .
And yet again, all anger towards him vanishes the second I see him. Oh how badly I want to hate him right now.
"Why would you try and destroy such a magnificent piece of art?"he questions with a hum at the end of his sentence ."Was that violence directed towards me?"he grins and takes a step forward.
"No ....never."I stutter and take a step back. "I was just...frustrated and wanted to let out my emotions ."I lie...sort of . It is somewhat true. Destroying the painting would've been a way of destroying the idealistic view I have of Vincent . The way I viewed him when painting it .
"Frustrated? For what?"he asks and squints his eyes .
Because I've forgotten who I am.
"Do you know how hard it is -"I pause and grip the hem of my shirt, "to drop your life to live a new one over night? Become someone different because you have no choice but to obey another? "I ask with distaste on my tongue .
"Care to elaborate?"he raises an eyebrow as he tilts his head to the side. Even in a moment like this he's still cocky.
"I dont know who I am anymore ."I cry as tears prick my eyes ."I cant remember who I used to be. I've become nothing more than a puppet waiting to be controlled by you. I have to look in the mirror every day and see someone who I despise . Someone who easily follows you . That's not me . But I have no control over it because I've lost who I am . "I stop and take a deep breath in , becoming a little overwhelmed at the sudden confession.
The person at Vincent's side isn't me . Not the real me at least. The real me died when I watched my friends throat get slit by the man in front of me.
"You dont know what it's like to watch your best friend die right in front of you . To hold their lifeless body in your arms and have that moment replay over and over in your head because it's the last time you saw them."I cry and furiously wipe the tears off my cheeks and turns away from him in shame.
Where did this all come from? Was it perhaps bottling up inside , waiting to explode when I've hand enough of these stupid games?
"On the contrary dear, I've been through exactly that ."he chimes in with a smooth and soft tone , gently grabbing my upper arm and pulling me around to face him.
I look up at him in confusion at his words . He's gone through that as well?
"Well except for the part with my best friend."he chuckles and swings the palette knife in the air. "It was my father. "
"Would you mind ...sharing your story?"I ask softly . Maybe this is how I can find a way to get through to him. If he tells me , I might be able to help him . If I could empathize with him he'll maybe trust me.
"Its really not that interesting . "He sighs ."I was about twelve when my father took me to work with him at the butcher. A man tried robbing the neighboring store and ran into ours . My father tried stopping him and ended up getting shot in the neck ."he shrugs and pulls a lock of my hair between his fingers and begins twirling it around.
"I'm so -" I try to apologize but he cuts me off.
"I had to kill him to end his suffering . It was -"he pauses as his eyes search around the room behind me. "Invigorating. "He smiles a crooked smile before dropping the piece of hair ."So much so , that I went home and found my mother sleeping on the couch. I grabbed a knife and ,"he brings the palette knife up to my neck and pressed it hard against my throat with a wide grin on his face .
I feel the icey metal against my skin as he slides the knife across my neck. He was pressing hard so it hurt ,but not hard enough to open the skin. I wince as he grabs the back of my head and pulls the knife away . "So as you see my dear, I'm perfectly capable of killing you whenever I want so dont test me."he growls and let's go of me before dropping the knife to the floor , the metal clanking loudly against the wood and sending icey chills up my spine.
"You killed your family."I breathe as I stare at my feet in shock ,not wanting to look the monster in the eye.
"Ding ding ding!"he laughs loudly and begins walking towards the stairs.
"Lovely observation but I'll be off to bed. Dont wake me up again."he threatens and leaves me in the studio alone.
There is no hope for him. He murdered his family at the young age of twelve! There is no helping someone who's lived the way he has for as long as he has.
If I want to survive this life, I'll have to make sure that he doesnt get in my head any more .
I'll make sure that the only thing I feel for Vincent will be the hot burning hatred for him and all he has done.