Best served hot, or not?... '+(A Rody x Vincent Fanfic)+'

︵❥☆︵Chapter 10︵☆❥︵

(Vince crawled to one of the telephones in there and dialed the ambulance)

Rody POV-

Ugh... Am I in the hospital?- How the fuck am I still even alive? Vince stabbed me like.. 4 or 3 times- where even is he? Its not like he would care at this rate. Was he just using me all this time so I could trust him and he could do this?

Now that's fucking messed up.

Im hooked up to a few IV pouches (I forgot what they were called🤗) and a few tubes. The doctors came in and told me I should be alright after a little bit of time in here. They left and someone else walked in.

..Vince

"Hey."

"Oh get the fuck out."

"..."

"Don't act dumb. You don't stab someone you know like that! After everything that happened, and you try to kill me again?!"

"That wasn't-"

"I said get the hell out right now, Vince."

I could tell Vince was holding tears back after I told him to leave. And this is the same guy I said "I love you," to? Was I that desperate?! I watched as Vince left the room, limping a little as he walked.

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Vincent's POV-

As soon as I left the room and closed the door, I started crying again. Rody really didn't like me because he thought I tried to kill him? I saved the both of us..

He didn't even give me a chance to explain it all. To say that it wasn't me and point out it was the customer who had done it. Not just to Rody but also to me. Did he hate me that much now? Does he think that I was only just using him? Maybe he'll talk to me when we both get back to work.. I hope-

They said I was okay to go home after a little bit, which I think is wild because of how badly that guy got me. I had no transportation though to get to Rody's apartment- I'll have to walk. Would he be okay with me staying at his apartment for a little longer till I can get my own again?

I was lost in my thoughts until it started raining again. I didn't have the coat he had gotten me on and to make matters worse, it was extremely cold today. Might catch a cold from the weather-

Finally walking up to Rody's apartment, I open the door and turn on the lights. It was bright, really bright. I sit on the couch, wondering if Rody meant what he said.. I could feel tears well up in my eyes just from the thought. Oh man... I actually loved him dearly.. Im so fucking dum-

Click

The door opened. Rody stepped into the apartment and stared at me. He just groaned and walked up to me.

"The only reason I'm letting you stay here is because you probably have no place to go. Don't try to speak with me right now... Fucking psycho.."

I heard him mumble the last part. But I still heard it- I was going to get up but Rody smacked me across the face, causing me to stumble and fall back over onto the couch. The hit was pretty hard, which means he most likely hates me now- But the hit felt numb to me. After I woke up everything felt so.. Numb. The thing is I didn't even do anything wrong he just won't let me explain. The part of my face he hit was a shade of red now.

Rody walked off to his bedroom, slamming the door shut.

I looked around for a bit while still sitting on the couch.

..

The kitchen...

I need to know if I can feel anything other than numbness..

..

I rush to the kitchen and look for a set of knives. There was a few next to the stove, how convenient. I grab one and walk to the bathroom, locking myself inside the small room when I enter. Something is telling me not to do this, but I block those thoughts out. I lightly press the edge of the knife against one of my arms and letting the blade slide against my skin, creating small cuts. But the more deeper ones sank into my skin, causing blood to quickly seep out onto the skin and knife. They were all painful.

.

Ah there it is. Pain. All in my arms I felt pain. With each and every cut led to another cry. I stop at my wrist, thinking whether I should also cut there or just stop here.. I cut anyway. Tears were pouring down from my face. I hated it. Grown men aren't supposed to cry, right?

..I'm tired. Too tired. I feel like I can barely stand upright now. I stand against the wall behind me for support. I drop the knife, a loud clank coming from it when it hits the floor. Normally, I would clean up these wounds and bandage them, but my body doesn't feel like moving. I might have gone a little overboard- I just sunk to the cold floor, letting my head sink into the opposite arm that was cut up while sobbing. God, I'm hopeless aren't I? What am I going to do with my life?..

After a little bit I doze off into sleep, finally getting the needed rest.

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A/N-
Just a lil sketch I did today (It's meant to sort of match the events of this chapter.)

(Word count: 923)