@fatherxvincent - Tumblr Blog

Might fuck around and be a doctor.

So far, all I’ve done is literally shovel rocks.

This job SUCKS.

I have become 2/3 insane.

#ic #if you’ve never played Mansions of Madness you should #needless to say: I chose Madness

I am now insane( I’ll never be happy again if I can’t have that kerosene lantern.

Might fuck around and be a doctor.

So far, all I’ve done is literally shovel rocks.

This job SUCKS.

I have become 2/3 insane.

#ic

Might fuck around and be a doctor.

#ic #he’s not sure if he should say it

So far, all I’ve done is literally shovel rocks.

This job SUCKS.

#ic

Might fuck around and be a doctor.

#ic

I’m serving c

I’m s

I’m serving

thequantumranger

Silent Hill: Townfall (2026) | Platform: PlayStation 5

#//im so hype for this

//sorry I dropped off, my brother and his gf visited AND my tacro went too high so I’m not feeling well.

#ooc

It was long ago and it was far away

And it was so much better than it is today

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

"Tried that." she said flatly.

"But I'm interested in those 'few ways' you just brought to my attention. Care to share ?"

He shrugged.

“Oh, who’s to say, really? People find all sorts of things stimulating. I don’t imagine you’d be interested in cocaine?”

"How straight do you think I am? If it weren't for the fact that I have to feed Faye, I'd be extremely open to it."

“Yeah, I’m guessing coke packs a bigger punch than cognac.” He admitted. “Well, back to the drawing board.”

Another sigh as her head rested on his shoulder.

"Don't make me think. At least not too much."

“You could always get Sister Delphine to watch Faye for a night and meet me at the hotel…” he offered.

"Oh ... You're right. I completely forgot that was an option." she admitted.

“Of course; I wouldn’t give up my only opportunity to get peace and quiet so easily.”

“And you’re oh-so-lucky to have a place like that. I definitely need to weasel my way in soon. Mama needs it.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it; I fought hard for that peace and quiet. But, I could be convinced to let you in…I’m sure you would like to unwind.”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

"Tried that." she said flatly.

"But I'm interested in those 'few ways' you just brought to my attention. Care to share ?"

He shrugged.

“Oh, who’s to say, really? People find all sorts of things stimulating. I don’t imagine you’d be interested in cocaine?”

"How straight do you think I am? If it weren't for the fact that I have to feed Faye, I'd be extremely open to it."

“Yeah, I’m guessing coke packs a bigger punch than cognac.” He admitted. “Well, back to the drawing board.”

Another sigh as her head rested on his shoulder.

"Don't make me think. At least not too much."

“You could always get Sister Delphine to watch Faye for a night and meet me at the hotel…” he offered.

"Oh ... You're right. I completely forgot that was an option." she admitted.

“Of course; I wouldn’t give up my only opportunity to get peace and quiet so easily.”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

"Tried that." she said flatly.

"But I'm interested in those 'few ways' you just brought to my attention. Care to share ?"

He shrugged.

“Oh, who’s to say, really? People find all sorts of things stimulating. I don’t imagine you’d be interested in cocaine?”

"How straight do you think I am? If it weren't for the fact that I have to feed Faye, I'd be extremely open to it."

“Yeah, I’m guessing coke packs a bigger punch than cognac.” He admitted. “Well, back to the drawing board.”

Another sigh as her head rested on his shoulder.

"Don't make me think. At least not too much."

“You could always get Sister Delphine to watch Faye for a night and meet me at the hotel…” he offered.

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

"Tried that." she said flatly.

"But I'm interested in those 'few ways' you just brought to my attention. Care to share ?"

He shrugged.

“Oh, who’s to say, really? People find all sorts of things stimulating. I don’t imagine you’d be interested in cocaine?”

"How straight do you think I am? If it weren't for the fact that I have to feed Faye, I'd be extremely open to it."

“Yeah, I’m guessing coke packs a bigger punch than cognac.” He admitted. “Well, back to the drawing board.”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

"Tried that." she said flatly.

"But I'm interested in those 'few ways' you just brought to my attention. Care to share ?"

He shrugged.

“Oh, who’s to say, really? People find all sorts of things stimulating. I don’t imagine you’d be interested in cocaine?”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

"With Faye, I don't really think too much about stuff like that. And, god, I love her to bits, but babies are dull."

She leans over to pour herself another drink with a sigh.

"I need more stimulation, but I can't fathom how right now."

“Well, I can think of a few ways…” he said with a cheeky smirk, finishing his drink.

“In any case, they may not be great conversation, but you can draw funny eyebrows on them and take pictures.”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”

She shrugs.

"At this point, I don't care. It's just ... boring, you know ? Variety wouldn't kill them."

“Well, I suppose it frees up your time. Fewer distractions. What would you rather be focusing? What would you prefer to do?”

The next time Vincent would enter his office, he would find a suspiciously exquisite bottle of cognac and a new pack of his usual brand of cigarettes sitting on his desk. With those, a sealed envelope embellished with perfume that read:

𝑽𝒊𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒏𝒕, 𝑭𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒑𝒍𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒘𝒆𝒆𝒌𝒔, 𝑰'𝒗𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒊𝒇 𝑰 𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒌𝒆 𝒂 𝒃𝒊𝒈𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒍 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒌 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕, 𝒔𝒐 𝑰 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒕𝒐. 𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒎𝒆 𝒂 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓, 𝑰 𝒎𝒂𝒅𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓. 𝑶𝒃𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒍𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒐𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒎𝒆, 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒂𝒚𝒆'𝒔 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒆𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒆𝒓. 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒕 𝒔𝒂𝒇𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒚. 𝑰𝒕'𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒑𝒓𝒐𝒐𝒇, 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝑰 𝒅𝒊𝒅𝒏'𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂 𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐𝒐 𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒈. 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆, 𝑹𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒂 𝑷.𝑺., 𝑰𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖'𝒓𝒆 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒇𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒚 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒐𝒓𝒆 𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆, 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍 𝒇𝒓𝒆𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕. 𝑾𝒉𝒐 𝒌𝒏𝒐𝒘𝒔, 𝒎𝒂𝒚𝒃𝒆 𝑰 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒈𝒊𝒇𝒕 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒚𝒐𝒖, 𝒕𝒐𝒐.

@fatherxvincent

“Well, then, I’ll return shortly.”

He made an effort to stand as slowly as he could while holding the baby.

“And her room is…..first on the right?”

It was hardly a question. That had been his room; he was convinced he could find it in his sleep.

He took Faye into the room and gently set her down in the crib. He turned on the baby monitor but it took him a minute to figure out the mobile. When he finally got it going, he stood beside the crib, watching the baby fight to keep her eyes open.

“You know,” he said to her. “I used to live here with your grandma. This was my room, too. If walls could talk…well, I wouldn’t let you sleep here. Not just this room, but the whole house. It’s seen a lot.”

He hesitated to say more until he realized that a four month old baby wouldn’t understand or remember anything he said.

“Your grandma overdosed and died in that back bedroom. I tried to save her, but she was already dead when I found her…that’s why I can’t go in there…”

He looked back down at Faye and she was out like a light. With a slow sigh, he straightened up and left the room, softly closing the door behind him.

When Reina heard Vincent through the monitor, she didn't think much of it at first; she carried on, pouring her own drink significantly less than his. But then her ear caught how much deeper his words got when speaking to the sleepy baby.

All she could do was stand in place, begging herself not to listen, to let him keep it between him and his daughter, but her legs were cemented to the floor. Is this what a deer caught in headlights felt like?

The moment it felt as if he were done, Reina was cut loose. She damn near skipped back into the kitchen with shaky hands to grab a couple more chocolate covered strawberries—just in case he might want one or two as well. She thought too harshly about the bowl's placement on the table as she sat, waiting for Vincent to return. She fixed her hair and took a deep breath.

“See?” He greeted her with a cocky smirk. “Told you it was easy. She was fast asleep before I even left the room.”

He returned to the couch and sat down next to Reina, picked up his drink and took a deep swig.

"Maybe." She took her drink into her hands. "Or maybe it's because you're convincingly comforting. Who knows?"

She took an eager sip, hoping it would help take her mind off what she just fell witness to; she got comfortable against him, crossing her leg over the other.

"Anything interesting happen today?"

“No, that’s definitely not it.” He snickered. “She’s just sleepy, poor thing.”

He set his drink down and leaned back on the couch.

“Not terribly. Taking confessions does wear a person down, though.”

“I don’t doubt that.”

Another sip that burns as it goes down. She can’t tell if she likes it or hates it. Then her finger just circles around the glass’s rim.

“You probably have a high tolerance though.”

“Most of it is pretty boring, to be honest.” He shrugged and leaned forward to take another drink.

“At least give me something juicy, you know?”

"Oh, totally. I would kill for something not mind-numbing to happen around here, or some gossip that really shakes things up." She downed the last little bit of alcohol.

"You know, that isn't about me."

“I hate to tell you, but usually it’s you.” He confirmed.

He took another slow, deep sip.

“I suppose where there isn’t drama, I can always make drama.”