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Today is a dreary day, Vanitas thought to himself. It was like the heavens opened only to cast a downpour to drench the flames of hell. The only thing it seemed to do was dampen the spirits of all who lived below the clouds in the city.
School had been interesting that day, at the very least. Work had been boring, however. Working a part time job cleaning tables and equipment at a small-time restaurant was bland, but he liked the food there. Furthermore, there weren’t many customers who stopped by, so he didn’t have to worry about talking with anyone. It was nearing the end of his shift, and he needed to get to his therapist’s office before he ended up being late.
“Heading out,” He made eye contact with his boss only for a moment, just to confirm he’d been acknowledged. He walked out to his car and sat in the driver’s seat for a few minutes, starting up the engine to let it heat up.
Life was tiring, and he was alone. He didn’t have any friends, other than his little sister who snuck out of the house occasionally to keep him company. Xion was always a sweetheart, but it was never quite enough to fill his bucket. He wanted companionship. Trust. Love; even if it was platonic.
But he was scared.
He shook the thoughts from his head and sped off to his therapist’s office.
“Hey there, stranger,” The fiery haired man said in the doorway. “Glad to see you didn’t forget your appointment today.”
Vanitas rolled his eyes. “Oh, piss off,” He joked, lightly shoving Axel’s shoulder as he walked by. “I’ve never been late to anything.” He and his therapist had a relatively good relationship, and the other man’s eccentric personality made it easy for him to relax.
They walked down the hallway into Axel’s office, and Vanitas took his seat in the oversized blue chair. Constantly he had to reposition it due to other clients’ negligence. He didn’t mind too much though.
He sighed deeply when he sat down, and the therapist gave a chuckle.
“Sighing usually means something eventful has happened; at least when you’re the subject,” He pointed out. “What’s on your mind?”
“Nothing ever gets by you, huh?” Vanitas sighed heavily. “There’s this boy I came across today.”
Axel smirked slightly. “A boy, hmm? I take it something happened?”
“He was trying to get breakfast but the lunch lady was being a bitch about counterfeit money. Seriously, the food isn’t worth that much. So, I paid for his breakfast. And then he was thanking me, and he—” Vanitas paused, unsure of how exactly to word it.
“He what?” Axel pressured.
“He looked adorable.” The words spilled out of his mouth automatically. “I mean, he was flustered and his face was bright red, he couldn’t quite look me in the eye—”
Axel was smiling across from him, and he reached behind him to his desk and grabbed a fidget, tossing it to the anxious lad sitting across from him. “Don’t know if I’ve ever heard you call someone adorable besides Xion. This boy has certainly piqued my interest. Is there a particular emotion you’re feeling about the situation?”
Vanitas thought for a moment, his mouth hanging open while he busied his hands with the toy cube. At a loss, he looked over to the wall, where a chart with different emotions was displayed. He had hated the thing a few years ago when he first began therapy. He hadn’t wanted to name his emotions or feelings; just wanted to let them exist and manifest in whatever form. Therapy had changed that for him. His work had consisted of a lot of acceptance, and making an effort to understand his feelings.
He read words on the chart, starting from the broader emotions, and going down deeper. “Enthralled,” He started. “And anxious.”
“I want to know more about that,” Axel said, interest in his eyes.
Vanitas sighed. “He was cute. Like really cute. Like I’d date him if he wanted to.”
“But you’re anxious.”
He looked off to the side, avoiding looking at the man’s face. “I…don’t see why he’d want to date, or even just be friends with me. He was staring at me in the only class we have together: English. I know I shouldn’t, but the whole time I couldn’t help but feel like he didn’t want anything to do with me; that he’s scared of me just like everyone else has been. But he was red as a tomato so I know it wasn’t that.”
When Vanitas looked back at Axel, he was staring at him quizzically, studying his face and body language. That was something he did a lot. It bothered Vanitas at first, but he’d quickly gotten used to it when he realized it wasn’t malicious.
“I’m gonna take a stab in the dark and suggest something,” He started. “Maybe your fear of how everyone else sees you is stemming from how you see yourself?”
Vanitas stared like a deer in the headlights. Axel was right. He knew he viewed himself rather negatively. He knew it was his doing in him having no friends. Doing projects alone.
“When was the last time you asked someone to be your friend?” Axel asked.
A lead weight built in his stomach faster than he could process what the man had said. That wasn’t something he did. He never asked people to be his friend. Instead he always waited for others to approach him. Waited until he caught someone’s eye; even then, those relationships fell through, and he’d be back to isolating himself.
“Elementary school,” He said shakily.
Axel nodded in understanding; his eyes closed in thought. “Vanitas, why don’t you ask him to be your friend? Go full on Kindergarten and ask him?”
Vanitas’ fists clenched, and he wondered if he might bleed from the way his nails dug into the palms of his hands. “I can’t. That’s not something I do,” He gritted his teeth, trying to stay in control of his wavering voice, trying not to let himself tremble; be vulnerable.
“Can I ask why?” Axel held his hands together, elbows resting on his knees.
“Asking someone if they want to be friends is... risky. I’ve never asked anyone that question; not since elementary school, and I’m afraid to start now. I’ve always made friends by just doing my best to be friendly even when I’m scared stupid, and wait for them to ask the question,” Vanitas closed his eyes, trying to focus on keeping his cool.
Axel sighed. “We’ve been working on how to express emotions and how you’re feeling in a positive way since the day you stepped into my office,” He began, his voice even; almost calming. “Maybe this is a good chance to step out of your comfort zone and practice all of the skills you’ve worked on.” Axel turned in his wheeled chair to dig for something in the drawer of his desk, then turned and tossed a Jolly Rancher towards Vanitas. “You also look like you need to practice your sensory techniques.”
Vanitas looked down at the candy. “Joy for Dialectical Behavior Therapy, and Borderline Personality,” He sighed shakily and popped the candy into his mouth, closing his eyes and focusing on the taste. Blue Raspberry, he identified the flavour silently. All Jolly Ranchers were tangy, but this flavour was always distinct, unique. He guessed that’s why so many people were quick to pick these ones. He couldn’t say he blamed them. Focusing on the candy, and keeping his hands busy absentmindedly with the fidget cube in his hands had grounded him enough to be functional, but he still felt tears roll down his face.
“How are you feeling right now?” Axel asked, likely in response to the tears.
“Unworthy,” Vanitas said softly. “I feel unworthy, unwanted, lonely.”
“You are always worthy, and welcome in my office. And you are in many other places, too. You don’t have to make a decision today on whether or not you approach…what’s his name?”
“Ventus,” Vanitas said quickly; probably too quickly.
“Ventus then,” Axel nodded. “You don’t have to decide right now, and you don’t ever have to decide if that’s what you choose. Go at your own pace, but it’s in my opinion that it may be worth taking that step forward.”
“I’ll think about it,” His voice was soft, barely audible.
They had spent the rest of the appointment talking about other things that were going on, to give Vanitas’ head a break from his racing thoughts. They talked about the status of his rent, making sure he had everything he needed to get by that month, given his emancipation. At the end of their meeting, Axel recommended Vanitas stop somewhere to get some candy to help soothe him.
It was pouring more than it had been earlier when Vanitas walked outside to his car. A few minutes were spent agonizing over the very possibility of posing that question: Will you be my friend? The pit of his stomach was heavy, and his heart wouldn’t stop pounding from the anxiety wreaking havoc on him. How could he manage to do that? Ask that question? He supposed if Ventus said no it wouldn’t change things for him very much and he could just go on with his life. But, the thought of being rejected after working up courage—
He didn’t know if he could take no for an answer and ever be able to be brave again.
Driving on autopilot had become a norm for Vanitas, but thankfully he’d never been in a car accident, even with his typical dissociative state of mind. He was parked in front of a convenience store before he even realized he was driving. He shook his head and sighed, inwardly shocked he hadn’t been in a wreck before.
Getting out of his car, he was about to go into the convenience store when he heard sobbing, barely audible over the raindrops clattering against the cement. He turned to the smoking booth, shocked when he saw saturated blonde hair. Peeking around the corner, the boy’s head was hidden in his hands, but there wasn’t any way he wouldn’t have recognized Ventus after staring at him for 30 minutes that day.
But why was he crying?
Vanitas stared for a moment, almost reaching his hand out to touch the other’s shoulder, but reeling his hand back when his anxiety spiked. He then tried to open his mouth to say something, equally as anxious, if not more by the way he thought he might hurl. He couldn’t do anything. He was too afraid, too weak. Too cowardly to comfort someone he wanted to talk to. Too anxious to say anything. He closed his eyes for a moment, his mind supplying him with the thought of turning tail and running back to his car.
But he could never do that. Not when it was so clear that Ventus needed someone to comfort him.
His eyes drifted to the convenience store, an idea sparking in his head. Maybe he didn’t need to say anything verbally. And so, he walked into the store, grabbing candy for himself, and some for the blonde outside, along with an umbrella. Vanitas figured by the way Ven was sobbing he’d probably be exhausted by the time he was calmed enough to go back to his home, so he grabbed a can of coffee. Coffee wasn’t ideal, necessarily, but at the very least it would keep him alert so he didn’t get hit by a car while crossing the street.
Satisfied with his selection, Vanitas grabbed two more items. Note cards and a pen. After buying the items, he hastily wrote on the card, “If you need a friend, shoot me a text.”
Praying to a higher power that Ventus was still there, hopefully unaware of the world around him, Vanitas tip toed up to the booth, quickly setting the bag down on the seat, then running back to his car before Ventus looked beside him. Vanitas got in his car and held a hand over his heart, breathing raggedly while his heart pounded in his ears. “Holy shit,” He whispered.
He pulled out his phone and dialed as fast as he could, setting his phone aside so he could drive away. If Ventus saw him, the secrecy would have been for nothing. The phone was answered quickly.
“Hello, Axel from—”
“AXEL!!” Vanitas practically screamed as his hands gripped the wheel. “I DID A THING!”
Axel was quiet for a moment before responding, likely recovering from his ear being blown out. “What happened?”
“I was driving to the convenience store to get candy like you told me to but Ventus was sitting outside sobbing and I wanted to run the fuck away but there was no way I could leave him like that so I bought h—” He gasped for air. “—Him candy and an umbrella and some coffee and I wrote a note with my phone number on it saying I could be his friend and it was terrifying and I’m anxious and—”
“Vanitas, slow down and take a breath. You’re gonna pass out at the wheel if you don’t breathe,” Axel warned. Vanitas hadn’t realized he didn’t take a breath. The words were free flowing, especially since he still hadn’t quite grasped what he did. It was automatic. “How did he react?” The therapist asked, snapping Vanitas from his thoughts.
“I…didn’t talk to him. And I didn’t write my name on the note,” he answered, a sheepish grin on his face.
The smack of a hand to Axel’s forehead was heard audibly from the phone. “Your gesture was so sweet, and you didn’t take the opportunity to make yourself look good? That’s pretty selfless, and I really admire that. What are you planning to do going forward?”
“I haven’t thought that far yet. I’ll see how he reacts to the bag, and I’ll decide from there.” Vanitas paused, taking a deep breath. “But it felt good, doing something nice for him even though I was scared to talk to him.”
“Hmm,” Axel hummed. “What were you thinking and feeling when you saw him?” Curiosity was laced in his words, and Vanitas couldn’t really say he blamed him.
“I didn’t want him to feel sad. I don’t want anyone to feel sad like me. So, when I saw him feeling like that, I guess it gave me the push I needed to do something. Even though I can’t speak to him right now.” Vanitas was breathing more evenly now, but there was a tightness in his stomach he couldn’t get rid of, and he knew he was shaking significantly.
“That’s very admirable, I’m proud of you. If you can keep going like this, I think you two will be friends in no time.” Vanitas beamed at the praise, feeling proud of himself as well. It was a big step for him.
Vanitas let Axel go shortly after, and was in his apartment not five minutes later. He walked in with his bag of candy, and put it on the counter, stashing some of the Jolly Ranchers into his bag for school. His phone rang in his pocket shortly after, and he pulled it out quicker than he ever had before.
Ventus: Hey. Someone left me this number with a bag. Is this the right number?
Vanitas’ heart flew out of his chest, his heart beat reverberating in his head. His thumbs were trembling as he picked his words as carefully as he could. He was so scared to say the wrong thing and chase Ventus away forever (even if he knew his identity was secret).
Vanitas: Yeah, you have the right number. Hope I picked the candy well.
Anxiety pooled in his stomach, nearly wrapping its incorporeal being around every organ residing nearby, and squeezing. He quickly reached for a Jolly Rancher and nervously popped it into his mouth.
Ventus: Thank you for the candy. And the umbrella. I really appreciate it.
Vanitas chomped the candy in half from the way his jaw clenched. Ventus appreciated it! That was the best thing he could have asked for.
Vanitas: No problem. Didn’t want to leave you like that.
Vanitas: You don’t need to tell me anything about yourself, just so we’re clear. Both of us can remain anonymous. You can tell me anything you want without consequence that way.
“Hopefully Ventus doesn’t mind double messages,” Vanitas said aloud. He didn’t think he was in the clear yet. Remaining anonymous would give him more time to relax around the other boy, and maybe get to know him a bit.
Ventus was taking a while to respond, and while frantically checking the time stamps on the messages, he noticed there was only a few more minutes until midnight, and that wasn’t good. Maybe the coffee really had been a bad idea.
Vanitas: Don’t worry about responding tonight. You were looking pretty rough, so you should focus on taking care of yourself. Starting with some sleep. It’s almost midnight.
Ventus: Alright, I’ll go sleep. You should too.
He felt warm at that message. Ventus seemed to care too, well, unless he was just being kind. Vanitas shook the thought from his mind; anxiety would get him nowhere with this, he needed to relax and keep his cool.
Vanitas: I will, goodnight.
Vanitas was wide awake that morning, knowing he was going to see Ventus that day regardless of what he did. English class was a shared period between the two, after all. The thought of seeing him was nerve wracking, especially after the bold move of the previous night.
As if the gods heard his thoughts, the English teacher presented the class with a group project. This would be a perfect opportunity. Scared as he was, Vanitas couldn’t pass this up.
He bee-lined for Ventus as soon as the teacher gave the signal. People were staring at him. This was terrifying. He wasn’t sure how to ask, ‘Will you be my partner,’ that was just as bad as asking Ventus to be his friend. He blurted out the shortest way he could possibly have asked the question.
“You taken?” Inwardly he was berating himself for the implication those two words must have had, and Ventus must have taken it that way too given the blush across his cheeks.
“N-No, I’m not.” The stutter in his voice was cute, Vanitas decided. That lit a tinge of pride in his chest, and he looked around, thankful for the sight of everyone else sitting.
“Well, Ventus, looks like you’re stuck with me anyways.” A smirk crawled across Vanitas’ face. Ventus could reject being his partner right now and that would be the end of it, but Ventus nodded, contrary to all Vanitas had been expecting; what he was prepared for. The two of them sat together at the last open seats, Vanitas bouncing his leg anxiously, strategically hiding his face from the other by resting his head on his hand.
The rest of the assignment was explained, and Vanitas didn’t want to wait any longer, grabbing the sleeve of Ven’s jacket and pulling him up to the teacher.
“Can we work on the assignment in the library?” He asked rapidly, hoping it didn’t sound too rehearsed. He wanted to work with Ventus privately, hoping that he could get to know the other boy despite his nervousness. Maybe working on a project was the better way to go; less personal that way.
As usual, the teacher didn’t question Vanitas, since as a student he’d been proven to be trustworthy. The hall passes were written sloppily. “Make sure you let Ventus do some of it,” She seemed indifferent otherwise.
Vanitas walked back to his desk with the passes gripped in his hand. He packed his bag as quickly as he could and stood facing away from Ventus. When Ventus stepped forward with his backpack on, Vanitas reached for his arm, gripping his wrist. He had wanted to grab his hand, but thought that might be too intimate, so he refrained from doing so. His mind was racing with negative thoughts rolling through. What if Ventus didn’t like him? Vanitas didn’t know what he’d do. It was senior year, and if he didn’t make any friends, he might never be able to make any.
Behind him, Ventus yelped, pulling back his arm almost violently. He held his arm with his other hand, a look akin to a caged animal visible on his face. Vanitas narrowed his eyes. That was a look he’d never seen on the blonde. He hadn’t gripped him that hard, and yesterday he was upset about something. Vanitas needed to confirm that it wasn’t what he thought it was.
He looked to the bathroom they were in front of, which was right next to the library. He needed a private place to investigate this. This time, Vanitas grabbed his hand, pulling him into the bathroom.
“Let go of me!” Vanitas wanted to comply, but couldn’t let this go. Not if he was right about what was going on.
Vanitas guided Ventus to stand against the back wall. “Just stand there for a moment,” Vanitas turned, kneeling to dig through his bag. They’ve gotta be in here still, he thought frantically. He saw some of the Jolly Ranchers, and figured Ventus might need something to ground him. He stood and turned around to face Ventus. “Take off your jacket.”
Vanitas acted quick when Ventus opened his mouth, placing a Jolly Rancher on his tongue. “Jolly Ranchers,” He explained, worried Ventus might think it was a drug of some kind. “Incentive for letting me help with whatever wound you’re hiding.”
A conflicted expression crossed Ven’s face. Vanitas knew then that he was right, but he didn’t know what kind of wound it was. He suspected lacerations from cutting, perhaps, but when Ventus started to remove his jacket, Vanitas was faced with the worst possible situation.
Several purple bruises lined both of Ven’s arms. Somebody had hurt him. Somebody had dared to hurt this beautiful boy standing in front of him. Made him feel so distraught that he sat in a smoking booth in front of a convenience store in the middle of the night, drenched from the rain, and hiding his pain from the world. He’d never wanted to kill someone more. He wanted to make whoever hurt Ventus pay. If Ventus asked him to, he’d do it in a heartbeat.
He closed his eyes, realizing that if he wasn’t calm, gentle with Ven, he would never have a chance with him. More than that, though, Ventus needed him to be level headed. He took a deep breath, acknowledging his rage without judgement, and letting it go upon exhaling. He gently reached his hands out, heart breaking at Ventus flinching, and rested his hands on the boy’s shoulders, gently guiding him to sit down.
He reached for the gel heating pack on the ground and pushed the button. It would take a while to heat up, so Vanitas pulled out his phone and scrolled through previous messages with his therapist, trying to put himself in the mindset of a supporter. He was consciously aware of Ventus’ gaze trained on him, and he couldn’t help feeling self-conscious.
The pack has finally heated up, so Vanitas turned to look at Ven’s arm, not daring to meet his eyes. He studied the bruises, deciding which one needed heat the most. He hated that Ventus was hurt.
“Are you going to ask?” Ventus’ voice came out in a broken whisper, and Vanitas wanted nothing more than to hold Ven close, and take the pain away.
“No,” He said simply. “I’m curious, but if you wanted to tell me you wouldn’t have fought a minute ago.” The boy was emotionally unstable right now, and he needed to find that stability again. He couldn’t help saying more, despite his intentions. “I think I already know, though.”
Vanitas didn’t have time to react when Ventus lunged for his arm, holding it tight. “Please, don’t tell anyone about this, I can’t—”
Risk it, Vanitas’ mind finished the sentence. “I won’t, I know how shitty CPS can be,” He stated. “They wouldn’t help you anyways, you’re almost 18 so it wouldn’t matter.” He knew his explanation was cold, but he didn’t know how else to respond. He knew something gentler would have been better, and he cursed himself for not making Ventus feel more cared for.
He set aside the heating pack, and grabbed the bottle of lotion. “Loaded with vitamin C. Natural anti-inflammatory, and will help them heal,” He explained. There were so many different effects lotion could have on people depending on the ingredients, and he didn’t want Ventus to think he was creeping on him.
It was inevitable that Ven would grow suspicious, however. Vanitas hadn’t thought of what he’d say if Ven did ask: “Why do you have all this stuff in your bag?”
His answer would be a lie. “In case I come across dumbasses who are too stubborn to ask for help,” The sarcastic response was formed from panic, and Vanitas regretted it immediately after speaking. To try and make it seem like all was intentional, he reached out and lightly pinched Ven’s cheek, but part of him just wanted to know what his skin would feel like.
Soft, as he would have expected.
But Ven pushed his hand away, and he lamented the loss. “Hey! I’m not too stubborn to ask for help!”
Those words angered Vanitas, frustration pooling in his mind. “Then what about your friends? Why is a stranger in here tending to your wounds?” It should have been one of the blockhead lovers he’d seen Ven with the morning they first met. Why was Vanitas, a stranger to this boy, helping him through his sorrows again, and again?
There was a look on Ven’s face Vanitas didn’t like. It was sad. Lonely. It seemed like he could cry any second. That wasn’t what Vanitas wanted. That wasn’t why he was sitting there in the boys’ bathroom taking care of his bruises; taking care of him. He opened another Jolly Rancher wrapper, and pressed it against Ven’s lips, holding it there with a single finger. He’d take disgust, anger, any other expression. Anything so that Ventus didn’t look so sad.
What he didn’t expect was for Ventus to accept the piece of candy.
Especially not by opening his mouth.
The piece of candy disappeared past the other’s lips, Vanitas’ finger lingering in his shock for hardly a second before he pulled it back, a smirk on his face.
Well, that was interesting.
Ventus was looking away rather cutely, avoiding Vanitas’ eyes. He knew that they needed to get back to work, but he thought he might not mind skipping the period so he could talk to Ventus. “Do you want to go work? Or do you want to talk about something else?”
“I’d rather just go do work and forget this happened.”
That was disappointing. Furthermore though, it was a little hurtful. Did Ventus mean he wanted to forget they had talked? He really hoped not. Now he was worried he might have taken things too far.
He nodded, trying not to show how he was feeling. He needed to not take it personally. It wasn’t about him. And so, they spent the rest of the period doing work, Vanitas trying his best to not cross any more lines than he already had.
When he got into his apartment, he immediately kicked off his shoes and messaged Ventus.
Vanitas: How was your day?
This would surely be another test. Would Ventus continue to message an anonymous person after the fact, or would he forget they existed and move on?
Ventus: It was…interesting.
To be honest, Vanitas was surprised. If this had happened to him, he might have tossed away the number and forgotten about its existence. This plan might work out for him after all.
Vanitas: Anything you’d like to share?
Ventus: Well... I guess there’s this guy.
Vanitas: A guy, huh? Anything special about him?
Ventus: He is special, I think. He helped me out today when I didn’t expect to need it. I don’t think I’d have died without his help, but I guess he sort of brightened my day…In a weird sort of way.
It was him. Ventus was talking about him. And he called Vanitas special! That was definitely something interesting. He wasn’t expecting it, but he was glad. He’d been worried he came off too harsh or too strong. Afraid he’d chased away the boy he desperately wanted to be near.
Even if they were to be nothing more than friends. He’d be satisfied with just that.
Vanitas: Haha! I’m glad he brightened your day.
Ventus: I am too. I thought he was rude at first, but he’s actually not as bad as people say. I don’t think I’d mind being around him more. He’s really smart too. I already knew he was since he usually works alone and gets perfect scores. But… he approached me without anyone forcing him to. I was really surprised.
He was glad he’d been able to lift Ventus’ mood that day, but he didn’t realize how positively Ventus thought of him. It was like he was being spoon fed compliments that weren’t meant for his eyes. And they weren’t, which made him feel a bit guilty. Maybe he could give Ventus a hint; something to say that Vanitas thought well of him too. The first thing that came to his mind was something a bit too forward.
Vanitas: Maybe he likes you.
Ventus: No, I doubt that’s it.
The response came far too fast. Did Ventus genuinely think that, or was he being modest? Either way, Vanitas absolutely liked him, and now he was determined to show him.
But perhaps, not as an anonymous friend.
For the next several months, Vanitas had made it his mission to be Ven’s project partner at every given opportunity. He was insanely nervous at first, but slowly, Ventus started seeking him out. There came a point where words were no longer necessary between them; they were just meant to be partners.
Apparently, Ventus had been struggling in other courses, so Vanitas would tutor him after school every now and then. It seemed to be helping, and Ventus wasn’t failing any classes. He could see the other was just as intelligent as he was, but it was likely the constant abuse Ven sustained that was dragging him down. He wanted to fix that. He wanted Ventus to be happy.
The final partnered project for their English class was upon them, and as usual, him and Ven were glued at the hip. This would be the last project they’d ever work on together, and Vanitas hadn’t been able to confess that he was the mysterious messenger from so many months ago. He wanted to tell Ventus. He’d been caught holding knowledge about Ven that he wasn’t supposed to know a few too many times. Ventus hadn’t questioned his hasty explanations of having heard it as a rumour, but Vanitas felt guilty. He didn’t like lying, but he was afraid back then that Ventus wouldn’t accept him if he knew who he was talking to.
Now he was afraid for the same reason, with different circumstances.
The two of them sat in the library side by side, working on piecing together some of the final bits of the project, when Ventus broke the silence with a question.
“Hey, Vanitas, wouldn’t it be easier if we exchanged phone numbers?”
Vanitas’ blood ran cold. This could be a good moment to tell him. He was asking directly. But it could also be the worst moment to tell him. It would be so easy to say, ‘You already have it,’ but it would be so hard.
“Yeah, but I don’t really give my number out to people,” The statement itself wasn’t a lie. He didn’t give his phone number to just anyone.
But he would have given it to Ventus.
Vanitas looked at Ventus, panicking at the look of rejection on his features. He turned his face away, uttering a small, “I see,” But Vanitas could hear the smallest difference in the way his voice cracked.
Hastily he scribbled down the address to his apartment on a sheet of notebook paper, tearing the piece out so quickly it almost ripped in half. He cursed under his breath, hoping he didn’t damage the writing, and sighed in relief when the address was still there. He held it out to Ventus, who took it in his hands and looked down at it incredulously.
“What’s this?” He asked.
“My address,” He said flatly. Was Ventus really that oblivious? Oh, but he needed a real excuse. “We’re not going to get this done on time if we only work at school. If I was working alone it wouldn’t be an issue, but I have you to worry about.”
Immediately, Vanitas knew he’d said exactly the wrong words. Ven’s lips tightened, and his brows knitted upward ever so slightly. Ventus thought he was a burden, and that wasn’t how Vanitas meant it at all. He was genuinely worried about Ventus. He wanted to help.
“Ventus, I chose to be your partner because I wanted to.” Their eyes met, the other looking more shocked now. “Come at around 4 or so. You can get free food, and we can finish the project. Watch a movie or some shit after if you want.”
A date, Vanitas wanted to say.
Ven nodded slowly, still locking eyes with him. “I’ll be there.” A grin creeped across Vanitas’ face, and he wouldn’t have been able to stop it if he’d wanted to.
Vanitas spent the day wondering what he should cook, what corner of the apartment he should clean first, what movie Ventus might like to watch. He didn’t have a tv, just a laptop with Netflix and a few other streaming services. Hopefully that wasn’t too lame.
When he got in the door, he was in a mad dash to clean everything. The place wasn’t filthy, but it could use tidying, and Vanitas didn’t want it to look anything short of perfect. For Ventus, of course.
By the time he finished agonizing over every detail, he was a sweaty mess, and there was no time to go to the store to get something more suited for having dinner with the guy you liked. With a frustrated sigh, he took off towards the shower.
The water stung the wounds on his thighs and arms. Wounds from trying to release the pent-up rage inside of him in a way that didn’t hurt anyone around him.
Except himself.
His life frustrated him. He was always exhausted and focused on surviving. Since he met Ventus, his habits had slowed gradually, but some days he found it hard to get by without seeing his pain in a tangible form. For him, it was acknowledged and manifested in cutting his arms, watching the blood drip into the sink, on the floor; that didn’t matter. Seeing that he could feel physical pain, and not just emotional grief, grounded him. Even if it hurt him more in the moment.
Ven’s face filled his vision when he closed his eyes. Would he see him differently if he knew? Knew that he made unwise decisions when presented with a knife? Vanitas gritted his teeth. Ventus was abused by his father. Vanitas had been abused by his father. But now, Vanitas abused himself.
He wouldn’t blame anyone who’d been harmed for resenting him. Resenting him for hurting himself.
But as much as it hurt him, it helped him as well. The sting reminded him that as empty as he felt, he was alive and could feel pain, and see that his actions had consequences. He could have control over how he was hurting.
He finished his shower quietly. Normally he’d sing, but when his thoughts overtook him, that became difficult. He stepped out and got dressed, walking out towards the entrance, putting on a jacket to cover the scars littering his arms. A knock on the door came, and Vanitas opened quickly, elated to see Ventus, but nervous.
“Hi,” He coughed as he opened the door and stepped aside for Ven to enter. Ventus lingered in the doorway for an awkward moment before walking in and taking his sneakers off. “You thirsty?” Vanitas walked over to the fridge.
“Uhh, water would be good,” Ventus said, the shrug almost audible.
Vanitas rolled his eyes. Ventus probably thought asking any more would make him a burden, and that wasn’t going to fly in Vanitas’ apartment. Ventus meant more than he knew.
“You sure? I’ve got a few energy drinks, lemonade, juice,” He started listing off, hoping one of them would spark Ven’s interest.
“Well… Lemonade sounds good.”
Vanitas smirked. Got him, he thought triumphantly. “Lemonade it is,” He grabbed the jug, and went for a glass, purposely filling his cup to the brim. He still felt anxious, and wanted to make a good impression and let Ven feel comfortable. Vanitas wanted him to come back after all. He didn’t want to fuck it all up by making him feel unwelcome.
“So uhh…you live here alone? No adults?”
It occurred then that Ventus didn’t know his living situation, or really anything about his past. “I’m emancipated.” He didn’t mind the boy knowing that detail, and he figured maybe it was time to open up about himself.
“Oh,” Ventus took a sip, looking away. It was painfully obvious he wanted to ask, but was too shy.
“My dad was abusive, and I was fed up being his punching bag. So, I busted my ass off in court to prove I could live on my own, and I won.”
“That’s incredible,” The wonder in Ven’s voice filled him with pride. “I wish I could have done that. Not that it matters now.”
The pride left quickly, remembering that Ventus was still being abused and had no way to get out. “You could still get out.” He tried to sound aloof, but in reality, it was an offer. A subtle hand outstretched to lift the blonde out of the hellhole he called home, and show him what home truly meant. But he couldn’t let Ventus know that right now. It wasn’t time yet. “Let’s get to work so we can chill later.” He stretched to try and sell the disinterest.
He buried his anxiety in schoolwork, the two of them making good progress, until Ventus’ stomach growled especially loud and they decided eating would be best.
Inwardly, Vanitas cursed himself for not putting more effort into getting dinner. “I don’t have any special culinary skills, but if you want spaghetti, I can do that,” He phrased it as a joke to hide the insecurity behind his words. He felt bad for not working harder.
Thankfully for him, Ventus laughed. “Sounds good to me.” There was a bright smile on Ven’s face that warmed Vanitas’ heart. He turned and focused on making their dinner.
He stared down at the pot, waiting for the water to boil, when his phone vibrated. The pattern was one he recognized immediately as the special one he’d set for Ventus. He tensed up, freezing in his panic. He couldn’t look at his phone or he’d be busted.
“Oh, weird, I just sent a message to someone,” Ven said behind him.
Vanitas was thankful in that moment for Ventus’ obliviousness. Vanitas took a deep breath, letting it out slowly, and turned to Ven to say something witty.
When he turned, he immediately knew something was wrong. The colour from Ven’s face was quickly drained, and his hands were trembling. There was only one thing that could cause a reaction like this.
“Ventus?”
“I-I have to go. Now, I have to go,” Ventus was rambling as he scrambled to get his shoes on.
Vanitas moved as quickly as he could, wrapping his arms around Ventus. “You don’t have to go,” He tried to say as calmly as he could. Inside he was burning, freezing all at once. His stomach felt like a rock, and his arms were tightened as much as he could without hurting the other.
“No, I have to go, Vanitas, let me go!” Those words reminded him of the first day of that project. The day he saw Ven’s bruises and knew that he could never let him go.
“You can stay here!” He cried out, desperate to keep Ventus safe. “Stay overnight. If you go back there right now, he’s going to beat you black and blue, and I won’t be able to protect you!” He was begging. Begging. Nobody else could make him so weak, weak enough to beg. But still, he didn’t stop as a broken, “Stay here,” came from his lips.
After a few, tense moments, Ventus finally turned in his arms, his fists balling in Vanitas’ jacket, and small sobs falling from him. Relieved, and heartbroken, Vanitas rubbed circles in Ven’s back, holding him close, tight; just like he’d wanted to for so long. He wouldn’t let Ventus feel alone anymore. Never again.
“I won’t let him hurt you,” He whispered, the anxiety he’d been bottling up releasing, vanishing as if it were never there. Ventus was in his arms, and he was more than willing to provide safety and shelter from all the dangers the boy had ever faced because his father was unfit to care for him.
Ventus pulled away, sniffling and cringing. “Sorry,” He said while looking at the tear stains on Vanitas’ jacket.
“No sorry necessary.” Vanitas hesitantly removed his jacket, in turn revealing the scars he’d tried to hide. If Ventus was going to be vulnerable with him, Ventus deserved the same in return. The gasp was unsurprising to Vanitas. “We’ve all got things to hide, but you, I trust.” He could hear the smile in his voice while Ventus lifted his gaze uncertainly. “Let’s go finish dinner, then relax for the night, okay? You can sleep in my bedroom; I’ll take the couch.”
He turned to walk back to the boiling pot, Ventus on his heels. “Are you sure it’s okay for me to take the bed?”
Of course it is, he thought to himself. He thought maybe he could imply something a bit more, though. He turned, giving Ventus the smirk he knew never failed to paint his cheeks red. “You saying you’d rather share it?”
The reaction was priceless. Ventus stumbling desperately over words, and turning red when Vanitas’ gaze traveled down to stare at them with a smirk. Vanitas wanted to lean in and kiss him right there, but he needed to practice restraint. For now, at least.
He turned back around to finish the pasta. They ate happily together, talking about various things. Joking and laughing together, without any anxiety or doubt interfering. At one point, Ventus stared at him curiously, but didn’t say anything regarding it.
They then watched a movie, seated on the floor and leaning against the couch, the laptop awkwardly angled so both of them could see while sitting apart. After a while, though, it got tiring. Given that Vanitas wanted to be closer to Ventus, and he was still high off of his earlier courage, he moved closer, snaking his arm around Ven’s shoulders. He was relieved when he felt Ven rest his head on his shoulder, letting out a breath he had no idea he was holding.
They talked about life and what they wanted to do after high school. Ventus had some hobbies Vanitas didn’t know about. He found out they both could sing, and he silently wondered what a duet between them could be like. He wanted to find out.
Looking at the time on his phone, he looked at Ventus with a knowing expression. “We should go to bed, it’s almost midnight.”
Familiarity lit in Ven’s eyes, and Vanitas knew then that the hint wasn’t lost on him. Ventus stood up, however. “Alright, well, goodnight.”
Vanitas looked at his jeans. There was no way those would be comfortable for anyone to sleep in. “Hold up,” He addressed. “Are you planning on sleeping in those jeans?”
“I’m guessing you have a better idea.”
He did. “Well, there’s no way those are going to be comfortable to sleep in,” He explained before walking to his bedroom, Ven in tow. He dug through his drawer to near the bottom, picking out the pair of pants from back when he wasn’t quite as muscular. “These were mine from a couple years ago. Good thing I kept them,” He gave Ventus a grin that probably came off as more of a smirk.
Ventus’ gaze went back and forth between the pants, and Vanitas’ face a few times before settling on the smirk. “Thanks,” He said timidly.
“You’re welcome, Ven.” Vanitas hadn’t used that nickname before with Ven. He liked the way it sounded. “Sleep well.”
He settled on the couch, thinking about the situation. He didn’t want Ventus to go back to his father’s house. He didn’t want him to hurt anymore. If he was going to continue on like this, he needed to come clean.
He needed to tell Ventus the truth.
So, he pulled out his phone, curled up on the couch, and took a deep breath.
Vanitas: Hey. Had some stuff to take care of. Are you curious about who I am?
The response came after a few moments. Vanitas had been a bit worried he wouldn’t pick up his phone after the events of earlier.
Ventus: A little bit I guess.
He had an idea. Coming out and saying it was out of the question, and he suspected Ventus might like a little game, especially since he didn’t know he was talking to Vanitas.
Vanitas: Let’s play 20 questions then. You ask a question, and I can only say yes or no.
Ventus: Okay. First question, are you male?
Vanitas: Yes.
Ventus: Above the age of 20?
Vanitas: No.
Ventus was playing the game. The questions so far were relatively close to being true, only he was 18, not older than 20.
Ventus: Are you in college?
Vanitas: Nope.
Ventus: High School?
Vanitas: Yep.
He felt nervous. There were questions Ventus could ask now that would completely give it away. The questions that were asked for a while weren’t giving Ven the answers he needed, until the 16th question came,, which would lead him on the right track.
Ventus: Do I know you?
Vanitas: Yes, you do, Ventus.
He was getting closer.
Ventus: Have I known you for long?
Vanitas: Debatable.
Closer.
Ventus: Are you in my English class?
This was the question. This was the question that would give it away. Vanitas stared at his phone, his heart pounding, palms sweating. He didn’t know that he was ready for this. But Ventus deserved the truth.
Vanitas: Yes.
Vanitas closed his eyes and turned towards the back of the couch, trying to act as though he were fast asleep. He turned off his phone, pulled the covers over him, and waited for Ven with bated breath. As he thought, footsteps were coming down the hall. The secret was out, and Vanitas could be honest with Ven. But he was also left vulnerable. He didn’t think Ventus would hate him, but the fear lingered in the back of his throat, the lead weight dragging down to the pit of his stomach.
“It’s you, isn’t it?”
He took a deep breath before sitting up to face him. “What do you think?”
A tension rested in the air. Vanitas watched as Ventus took long strides towards him, and he mentally prepared himself to be slapped, punched, maybe something worse. But as Ventus came closer, he realized that Ventus had other intentions; other intentions that were so clear now that he was leaning down, down, closer to his face.
Ventus pressed his lips against Vanitas’, and God, it was everything he’d hoped it would be, and more. He placed his hands on either side of Ven’s hips and guided him down until he was situated nicely in Vanitas’ lap. His breath hitched ever so slightly when he felt the back of his shirt bunch up. Ventus was perfect for him; everything about him was perfect. The way he let out a small moan when he deepened their kiss, the way his skin felt when Vanitas brush his hand against his cheek, his thumb brushing against the smooth surface.
He could stay like this forever, if Ventus would let him.
Of course, the kiss had to be broken eventually. Vanitas couldn’t help feeling a bit smug. He’s come clean with the thing holding him back from acting on his feelings, and Ventus clearly feels the same way about him.
“So, what do you think?” He asked with a smirk.
The eyeroll only made him smirk more. “I think it’s definitely you, and you’re incredibly creative.”
“Thanks, you’re incredibly cute.” He’d been wanting to say that for so many months, and getting to say it now was incredibly satisfying. Vanitas rested his hand on Ven’s cheek once again, feeling warm and filled with love when the other nuzzled into his hand.
Ventus looked at him with a curious gaze. “Why is your reputation so bad, Vanitas? You’re nothing like I’ve heard from people.”
He knew he was treated like he was a loner, because that’s exactly what he’d done to himself. He didn’t realize how bad his reputation was, though. Silently he thanked Ven for not avoiding him because of whatever rumours were passed around. “I chose to stay away from people ’cause I’m afraid of rejection, and I have social anxiety. My trauma didn’t just come from my dad,” He said truthfully.
Surprise was the first emotion that came across Ven’s face. Vanitas couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but it became meaningless when Ventus broke into a warm smile. “I’m glad you let me in.”
Vanitas’ eyes widened. That was one way to put it, but there was another element to it. He snorted, trying not to laugh. “I had to chase you down. I didn’t intend to crush on you when I paid for your breakfast, but the look on your face was damn adorable. And then,” He held his breath, trying to determine how best to say the next thing on his mind. His eyes cast down and away as he continued his sentence. “Then I saw you in the rain in front of that store, sobbing and drenched.” He looked up again, wanting Ven to know how sincere he was being. “I didn’t want to leave you like that, but I was still afraid. And then I saw your bruises and I—” He glared down at Ven’s arms, reaching for the pale skin, no longer marred by swollen, purple marks. “I knew I didn’t want him to touch you ever again.”
When Vanitas looked up, tears threatened to spill from his beloved’s eyes. If they fell, he decided he’d be the one to wipe them away, for however long Ventus and him stayed in love, together. He hoped this love would never die.
“I don’t want to go back there,” He said brokenly. As Vanitas thought, a tear made its way down the blonde’s face.
“You can stay here, for as long as you want. You can live here, with me.” Keeping the promise he made to himself, he wiped away the tear, pulling Ventus close, and into his warm embrace. Gently, he pressed a kiss to Ven’s lips.
“Vanitas,” Ventus said suddenly. “What cologne do you use?”
Many interesting things had happened, but so far that was the most interesting.
“I don’t.”