You closed your car door behind you, staring up in awe at the large house. It wasn't super expensive - you could tell - but it was pretty impressive for a man who lived alone. You at least assumed he lived alone, because... How would his family react if he brought a stranger to the household to live there?
Vincent's home was two stories high, and had a neatly cut lawn in front. It was much better than what you could do, but that wouldn't have mattered; you were just grateful to have a place to stay in the first place.
Suddenly, you heard Vincent's car beep as he locked it, and you came to your senses before rushing to do the same. You pressed the little button on your keychain and heard the car click and beep in return.
Vincent strode toward you, and you met his eyes as he approached.
"Follow me," He grinned.
You smiled back and obliged; the two of you soon stopped at the door. He unlocked it, and it creaked open.
"Woah..." You muttered, taking a step in without waiting for permission to do so.
Inside was much more welcoming than you had expected it to be. There was a corner couch in the hardwood floor livingroom, along with a glass coffee table and a television. The kitchen was just that... a kitchen. You noticed a staircase leading up but decided not to mess with it for now. That'd come later.
Vincent made his way in around you, not saying anything at first so you could at least get a decent look around. But soon he spoke anyway.
"I don't live in a mansion, love."
You were quick to respond.
"Well, that comes as a surprise to me. Anyway, you have a corner couch?" You didn't wait for his response and rushed into the living room to sit down on the plush cushions. You chuckled, letting yourself drown in the throw pillows.
"Someone's certainly making themself at home." Vincent mused as he made his way towards you. He held out a hand to you, who was starting to feel a little suffocated. You took it gratefully.
"You have to unpack."
He gently pulled you up out of the scattered pillows, and you breathed deeply.
"Right."
You straightened out your clothing and walked to the door, taking note of the fact that Vincent was following behind you. Good, he's gonna help me.
You walked back out into the slowly fading sun and approached your car.
"Ok, I have some of the stuff in the trunk and some in the back seat."
The car clicked and beeped as you pressed the button, unlocking the doors. You walked over to the driver's door to press the button that opened the trunk while Vincent started to gently poke around through your belongings, trying to see what he could carry.
The two of you were losing daylight already; you knew that you may be working in the dark soon.
So you walked back to the trunk and said:
"Let's just get some of the main stuff I need. We can get the rest tomorrow." Vincent nodded to show he had heard and started grabbing things; you did the same.
Tedious as it was to unpack, you were overjoyed. You smiled to yourself and continued to take the boxes.
You flopped down on the soft couch, feeling it bounce under your weight.
"What time is it?" You sighed, not wanting to look for yourself. Vincent took a seat next to you.
"Probably around 7:30," He muttered, leaning his head back on the seat and letting out a deep breath.
A single bead of sweat dripped down his neck, and his hair was ruffled and messy. His eyes were closed in relief.
For a second, you caught yourself staring. That's kind of hot. You thought, taking the opportunity to admire his face. Huh, he has a nice jawline.
"What are you doing...?" You reeled back in surprise. Vincent hadn't moved, but he was now looking at you and smirking, his eyebrows furrowed. You flushed at his expression. Shit. He caught me off guard.
"Making dinner!" You covered, bouncing out of your seat. You didn't spare him another glance, the kitchen being your only focus.
"Dinner...?"
You nodded and made your way to the fridge before opening it. Other than some basics such as eggs and milk, there wasn't much inside.
"Hmm..." You soon saw a pantry and perked up.
Vincent approached and sat in a barstool on the other side of the counter.
"What do you expect to make?" He asked, but you could barely hear him as you were digging through his food.
"Nothing, at this rate." You groaned angrily before making stern eye contact with him. "Fucking seriously? Do you eat nothing but ramen noodles and canned peaches?"
Vincent smirked at you.
Of course he eats nothing but ramen noodles and canned peaches.
"Ugh, I'm gonna have to fix this," You muttered, facepalming.
Afton spoke up.
"Is this going to be one of those tropes where the girl meets a guy who lives in shit and makes him become healthy?" He asked, rolling his eyes. "Because, if so, I don't want your help."
You looked at him with a quizzical expression.
"Absolutely not. Or, um... not yet. Just give me a minute."
You fished around in your pocket for a moment, then pulled out your cell phone. You dialed the number quickly and held the phone to your ear.
Vincent asked, quietly, what you were doing. You told him you were ordering a pizza. By the time the call finished, Afton looked very disappointed in your means of sustainment.
The man across from you sighed as you hung up. You sat next to him with a cheeky grin on your face.
"So... dinner is on its way." You drew out, crossing your arms over the counter.
Vincent pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and index finger.
"Christ, you get on my nerves, love." He muttered. But there was a hint of a smile in his expression.
You let the pizza box slide carefully off of your palm onto the coffee table.
"Hot," You mumbled under your breath.
Vincent sat on the couch, leaned forward and alert.
"So, you've just decided that we're going to eat in the living room?"
You plopped down on the couch next to him and reached forward to open the pizza box.
"I mean, yeah. The TV's out here, so..." You trailed off. Vincent chuckled.
"You seriously live like this?"
You crossed your arms angrily, a bit insulted.
"It won't be like this forever!" You defended. "It's only the first day. Anyway, sorry I fucked up your perfect life, ramen-eating jackass."
Quickly, you abandoned your spot on the couch, getting up in search of the remote.
"You know, you can't exactly talk to me like that, love." You heard from across the room. "Have you forgotten that I'm your boss?"
"I'm pretty sure you sufficiently reminded me earlier. You know, right before you made fun of me for being homeless," You shot back, sticking your tongue out at the angered man.
"Anyway, do you have any video games?"
Vincent scoffed.
"No," He replied, slightly amused now.
Seriously? You thought.
"God damn, your life is boring. It's a good thing I brought my Switch." You smiled and skipped past the couch to dig through a box which sat behind it.
"No... not that... hmm..." Your new roommate watched you with interest as you ripped belongings carelessly from the box.
"Yes! Here it is," You exlaimed happily before coming back over to the television.
"I just have to hook this up somehow..." You mumbled, trying to figure out where exactly the charger connected. The tangle of cords was like a maze in a way, infuriating and hard to navigate.
I've done this before... I know that the ends of the connector cord are red, so I should plug it into a red outlet. The question is, is there even a red outlet available? There should be, considering not much else is hooked up. Damn, not even surround sound? Vincent is so lame, god. Oh, here it is!
You plugged in the switch and set the console in its charger until you heard it click. You then disconnected the little side remotes.
Vincent sighed as you sat back next to him.
"Are you going to force me to place video games with you...?" He asked, clearly dreading the inevitable answer.
You handed him the red remote.
"Yes. Have you ever played Smash?"
He made eye contact with you, and you nodded.
"Right, right... Of course you haven't... Well, I'll teach you!"
You smiled. Vincent groaned.
( If y'all don't fucking BEHAVE in my comment section... SUPER SMASH BROS. THE NINTENDO GAME. PLEASE. PLEASE GIVE ME A BREAK. )