𝕊𝕥𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ℂ𝕦𝕡𝕚𝕕 ➶

𝕋𝕨𝕖𝕟𝕥𝕪-𝕋𝕨𝕠: 𝔹𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕜𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝔼𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕟𝕘

"This is your plan?!" Valentina hissed as Vincent made another attempt at picking the lock on Gomez's door. This was ridiculous. Really, what an awful idea.

"I've got it! Now shut up before someone hears you!" The older boy whisper-shouted in turn. His face was still cool and pale as marble, but his ears were hot and red as a fireplace poker. He was embarrassed.

"What are you even hoping to find?" Her exasperation was practically palpable.

"Evidence! A sledgehammer, a piece of anatomy carved out of marble... Hell, even a handful of gravel. Something I can take to the authorities." Or, rather, anything that proved him right.

She stood by, nervously shifting her weight between her feet, swaying side-to-side like she was rocking a baby. If they got caught, they were going to be in so much trouble. As a girl, she shouldn't even be in the boys' dormitory at this late hour.

But it was the only time she could guarantee that Gomez wouldn't be in his room. Without a doubt, he was already lounging on her bed in Ophelia Hall, waiting for Morticia to finish up tutoring botany and Valentina to... Well, to stop avoiding them.

The lock clicked out of place, loud as a gunshot in the otherwise silent hallway. "I told you I had it," Vincent hummed victoriously before standing and opening the door. "What are you waiting for? Get in before someone sees us."

So Valentina stepped inside after him and swung the door shut behind her, locking it again. Just to be safe. While she stopped to smell the roses, Vincent immediately started his search, quickly but thoroughly combing over every inch of Gomez's room.

How long the job would take him was anyone's guess. While not by any means small, the room was definitely smaller than hers and Morticia's. Or maybe it just felt that way because it lacked the massive web-paned window that theirs had. Their ceiling had to be higher just to accommodate the Gothic monstrosity.

Once he had rummaged through all the drawers of the desks and dressers, Vincent made a bee-line to one of the wardrobes and threw open the doors. "Holy shit!" He exclaimed, staring inside with huge, bug eyes.

"What is it?" Valentina asked anxiously. Then, when he didn't answer, she rushed over to have a look for herself.

She expected something gorey and grotesque, like Deuce's severed head on a spike, but found something that was disturbing in a much, much more personal way.

It was a shrine. Not to the Dark Lord or any of the Princes of Hell, either. To her and Morticia.

The back of the wardrobe was plastered with pictures of the two of them: some together, but most apart. Most were candid, too, rather than posed. A little creepy, but not nearly as disconcerting as the items that littered its shelves. Because she recognized some of them.

There was her favorite pink pen, which she thought she'd just misplaced. There was her old toothbrush, which Morticia said she threw out after accidentally knocking it to the floor of the bathroom. And--

"Are those your panties?" Easy for Vincent to say. It wasn't his underwear on display. There was no denying that they were hers, either. Morticia obviously didn't wear pink cotton panties printed all over with little red cherries.

Flush with humiliation, Valentina snatched up her underwear and stuffed them into the inner pocket of her blazer. Then she slammed the wardrobe shut. "Go. Look. Elsewhere," she seethed between clenched teeth.

The boy said nothing, just went to peer under the bed.

That's when the dorm room door started to jiggle. Someone was trying to get in.

Vincent immediately rolled under the bed, leaving Valentina standing stupidly in the middle of the room when none other than Gomez waltzed inside.

He didn't look angry, or even surprised... If anything, he looked overjoyed. "Mia bambina," he crowed. "I've been looking for you!" The door swung shut behind him with a note of finality.

His long legs allowed him to easily close the distance between the two of them. She was too shocked for their usual dance, didn't shy away in time, and was naturally pulled into his embrace.

His hands were broad enough to neatly wrap around her narrow waist. Once she was in his grasp, he pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek, obviously mindful that she still wasn't ready for anything more. Still, she immediately felt trapped, damn near smothered.

"How-- How did you find me?" She stuttered, reaching up to lay her palms on his chest and give a little push. She couldn't breathe with him so close, close enough to feel his own breath on her cheek, smell nothing but stone tobacco.

"With my heart as a compass, I could find you anywhere!" What a perfect non-answer. "But what are you doing here?"

She had to think, hard and fast. So she blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Gomez, we need to talk."