Tainted

Chapter 23

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 ....