tw! mentions of self-harm, eating disorders, and other depressive/suicidal tendencies.
credit: gaylarryland
you'd been different lately. vinnie can figure that much. you don't talk as much as usual and you space a lot more, yet you know what's going on with everyone all the same. you're wearing more makeup and getting less sleep, yet you're in your room half of the day. you've stopped smiling as often and you're not as touchy, but your obscene jokes and warm presence are still there, if not tenfold.
and, like, you're not... close. so, vinnie can't really expect you to tell him what's wrong. but you notice him and he notices you. the fleeting looks and withdrawn touches say as much. or, they used to. they used to with you curled up in a ball in the corner of the kitchen, not necessarily avoiding vinnie's gaze, but not actively seeking it out either. little giggles fall from your pretty lips when connor and alex start yelling at each other over something stupid, when mia and kouvr intervene and smack them both upside the head.
you duck your head into your knees and get this hazy look in your eyes every once and a while, like you're in some faraway place and you're trying to convince yourself out of something. but ultimately, you lose. you'd been convinced so overwhelmingly that you push away from the chair you're sitting in and walk out of the kitchen, silent and unnoticed. unnoticed by everyone but vinnie of course.
he gives it a few minutes, waiting patiently for your return. but one minute turns to five, five to ten, ten to thirty. and vinnie's confused, concerned. doesn't understand why you've been gone for so long. what could you possibly be doing? everyone's in the kitchen. it's not like vinnie doesn't understand your need for privacy, but you had quite literally spent the entire day in your room.
he excuses himself and makes his way toward your bathroom with a frown that seems permanently etched into his face, but he's proven wrong when he knocks three times on your bathroom door and gets an answer he shouldn't listen to.
"oh- shit," vinnie cusses, throwing a hand over his eyes immediately.
"i said you could come in," you snicker, slipping into your panties with no sense of regret. you put your all-too-uncomfortable bra back on right after, clasping it in the back before grabbing a hair tie. "covered," you mumble, your tongue peaking out as you concentrate on putting your hair up.
"right then, i was- fucking christ y/n, that is not covered!" vinnie groans, eyes flitting up to the ceiling.
"covered enough," you sigh out after styling a rat's nest on the top of your head. you turn to vinnie, walking forward before stopping right in front of him in red lacy bra and panties that literally only cover your cunt, patting a hand on his chest three times to grab his attention. "and if it makes you that uncomfortable," you start, waiting until vinnie's eyes land on yours, lowering down involuntarily, swallowing hard when he sees how the red compliments your skin. and when he looks back up he's got the furrow in his brow and a look in his eye that tells you he's sorry, that he doesn't mean to make you feel objectified or sexualized. and you smile for point two seconds at that because you don't, could never feel that way when it comes to vinnie. "you could've left," you finish, brushing past him, and you almost win.
you almost walk right out without vinnie saying or really noticing anything. you almost get away with the red that he didn't notice before. the exposed skin and witty remarks almost let you walk straight past him. almost.
his fingers close around your wrist - softly, at that - scared to irritate the pretty, crimson red lines more than they already have been. he frowns deeply, bringing your arm closer to him to inspect just how many.
