Café

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(Vic's POV)

We drive to that café again, the one Mom took me and Mike every Sunday.

Kellin still looks angry. His body is calm, besides his tapping foot, but his eyes and clenched jaw say everything. "I'm sorry." I say quickly. He meets my eyes and furrows his eyebrows, not knowing what I meant. Looking at the table, I start speaking again. I just had apologize for causing all this.

"For everything really. Crying like a baby all the time and bothering you with my problems, and not to mention this morning. I shouldn't have stayed." I shrug, cheeks getting red. Kellin rolls his eyes and places his hands over mine, "Vic, it's fine. You don't bother me at all, okay? And I wanted you to stay. I don't really care if she's mad." He chuckles at the end.

"Really?"

He nods and smiles a little and it calms me down. It bewildered me how no one but him could do that, make me calm with the tiniest gestures. Jesus, he was perfect. I smile in return and he lets one hand fall to his lap. The other, he keeps on mine, rubbing the top of my hand softly.

We get coffee and things go quiet as we sip down the caffeine.

Then I decide to tell him for whatever reason. "I can't tell you how many times I've been here." I shake my head. He tilts his head and swallows the coffee in his mouth. "What do you mean?" He asks. I clear my throat, "My mom took me and Mike here every Sunday for breakfast." His cheeks go red and his eyes fall to the table.

"I'm sorry, um, I didn't-- Do you want to go somewhere else?"

I laugh a little and shake my head, "Kellin, it's fine. I'm glad I'm here." He lets out a breath and squeezes my hand, chuckling a little right after. "So, I didn't fuck up?" I shake my head and he smiles a little and then we go back to drinking coffee.

I could get used to this.

_______

(Kellin's POV)

I couldn't seem to process how fucking cute Vic looked today in my clothes. Snug blue jeans and a baggy black Pantera sweater, with some of my Vans. I smile slightly, rubbing my thumb over his hand as I drive.

I glance up at his eyes and they're trained out the window, his foot tapping every once in a while to the music. I pull my hand away and lower it to his knee, squeezing gently. He turns his head to me and smiles a little.

Then I started thinking about the other night, and questions that I had no answers to raise in my mind.

"So, um," I say with red cheeks. I just had to know some things. I needed at least a few answers. I knew that this was probably a sensitive subject for a sober Vic, definitely not for a drunk Vic, but this was something I needed to know. "About the other night," I say quietly. His head snaps so he's looking at me, his breathing hitching. I knew it. "No, no, don't be all nervous," I laugh lightly when I feel his leg tense.

I raise my hand to his mid thigh and rub my thumb from side to side comfortingly. "I was going to ask, what made you drink exactly?" I say. He sighs and looks out the window again. Even though I knew I'd get this reaction, I knew he had to answer me. "Everything really. I felt really alone and I didn't want to call you."

"Why? You know you can if you need to."

"Yeah but I felt bad about it. Felt like a burden to you. Felt disappointed in myself, I don't know. A lot of things." He says, well, mumbles. His eyes dropped to his lap and he laid his hand on top of mine and sighed. He traces his pointer finger over the veins on the top of my hand. "Well, I'm glad you're okay now. Also, I thought I'd let you know," I tease, squeezing his thigh. I'd have to tease him at least once, I just had to.

"I really like drunk Vic." I mutter, snickering under my breath. His face goes red and he looks away, "Shut up, you twat."

I laugh loudly and squeeze his thigh again, feeling better now than I did a few hours ago. We reach the house and I sigh, my grin dropping. Great to be home, huh? "Thanks for going. It made my day." I say with a small smile. He hums and nods, grinning at me.

"Under the tree later?" He asks.

"Sure thing, darling." I sing-song. He laughs and nervously kisses my cheek, clearing his throat right after. I grin and rub my thumb across his cheek, then we go out, quickly hugging. I take in his scent and sigh it back out, grinning into his hair. Christ, he's so intoxicating for me. "I'll see you soon." I mumble. "Okay." He says, then pulls away. We smile, then part ways.

When I step into the house, my mind still buzzing from the high that being around Vic gives me, Mom is on the couch, on the phone. Dad sees me from the kitchen and sends me a smile. I approach him and he sighs. "Thank you," he says. "For what?" I ask questionably. "For being how you are. You're nice to people who are nice to you, you don't make opinions off of what your mother had told you, and I'm proud you're so open-minded."

"Thanks for being a sap," I laugh at the long explanation.

He rolls his eyes that match mine and he rubs my shoulder. "Why don't you head to your room. I'm still trying to warm your mom up to it." I sigh and nod, biting the inside of my cheek. What if he knew that I didn't like Vic as a friend? What if he found out I was practically in love with him?

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