He had taken a walk through the town and into the woods to take a break from his work. He would often do this to escape his brothers as a child but the habit returned when they came back to Ambrose. He was able to clear his mind and pull inspiration from the quietness and beauty that surround him, something that was becoming tricky for him these days.
Especially when all he wanted to do was work on one person
But how could he not want to create pieces like that when everything had some semblance of you? From the street lamps to the sun shining through the trees on a afternoon like this. And even though he came out here with every intention on finding something else to create, he ending up stumbling upon a flower bed that practically had your name written all over it.
The trek back home was consumed on what materials he would use. Maybe acrylics? Water color would look nice but he’s done quite a few of those recently. Mind still wandering through his options, he almost completely walked past Bo who was leaned up against the kitchen counter with a thousand yard glare.
“Hey!” Vincent stopped and backed up. His shoulders slumping forward knowing Bo probably was gonna bark at him to do something for him. But his frame quickly became frigid as his eye found the dainty dinning room table.
“What the fuck is all this?” Sharp, dark and straight to the point as ever. Vincent knew he was in trouble.
It was all of his artwork he made of you. From the detailed studies of your eyes to in-depth anatomy sketches of what he thought you looked like underneath your clothes. Vincent became very attached to these pieces, seeing as though they were the only piece of you he would get to keep and cherish.
“Now, I’m gonna give you ten seconds to explain this...” Bo was a loose cannon on a normal day but now he was scarily distant from rationality. He had made it crystal clear from day one that you were his. That if either of his brothers got a little too friendly with you they would ended up on the business end of his shotgun. But Vincent wasn’t afraid of him anymore.
“Then I’m gonna beat your face in until it looks just like the side God took away from you.” It was a promise and Vincent knew it too. No amount of explaining would be able to save him from Bo’s anger.
So Vincent remained quiet.
Waiting, itching, for his twin to make the first move and he did. Stomping over to his brother, Bo lunged forward in an attempt to knock him in the mask. Vincent stepped back just in time and shoved his brother back by his chest. He wasn’t interested in fighting but Bo had other ideas. His punches were wild and barley avoidable, Vincent was at his limit.
He pulled his fist back and struck Bo across the face with a power that sent him tripping back on to the kitchen table which buckled under his weight. Sending artwork all across the floor as the two began to squabble for the upper hand. Vincent clutched a fist full of Bo’s button up and tugged him closer to his face.
“You think these little fuckin’ scribbles are gonna make her fall in love with you?” Bo sneered, “She needs a real man, and you’re nothing but a freak behind a mask.”
A guttural sound rose from Vincent before he smashed Bo’s head off the tile and raised his fist above his head only to bring it down with a bruising force. Vincent now understood Bo’s crave for violence and control over his brothers. Because in those few moments when Bo was under his clenched fist, helpless and dazed - Vincent felt invincible.
All the taunting and screaming from his brother meant nothing now. Because it was him who was on top, he who had blood on his knuckles, he who felt no remorse as his brother groaned in pain. During this power trip, he had completely blocked out the sound of the front door opening.
“Vincent! Stop!” You cried. His eye shot up to standing in the door way with groceries in your hand. Vincent recognized that look almost immediately. He had seen it almost every day for the past few years.
Total, utter, and complete fear.
He pulled away from his brother’s bloody form hastily like he had just burned himself and kept his eyes on you as you dropped the groceries and fell to your knees next to Bo. You swiped blood away from Bo’s lips as he pushed labored, livid, breaths harshly from his nose.
“I think you’ve done enough, Vince.” It was how words came out in a defeated sigh that made his stomach drop.
You weren’t angry with him, you were disappointed. Vincent had let you down, something he promised to himself that he would never do. No matter how many times Bo made you upset or angered you, Vincent would be the never be like that to you, never like Bo. But they were more alike than Vincent understood.
You would never be able look at him the same. How could you after you watched him ruthless beat into the man you loved? You must be disgusted with him.
Disgusted, disappointed, ashamed and afraid.
You had become his best friend in the few months you had been in Ambrose. They only one who truly listened to him, made him feel like he mattered. His place in this world was always something he questioned. How could he not when he looked they way he did? Vincent convinced himself he was the worlds mistake when he was child. That he had no purpose. You gave him that purpose.
You moved your hand away from Bo’s chest to turn a crumpled piece of sketchbook paper towards you. It was you smiling, clearly from an angle of you looking up at Vincent. Had he drawn this all from memory?
Unbeknownst to you, that was Vincent’s favorite piece.
Smoothing out the crinkles with your thumb you looked around at the other scattered papers and sketch books. Catching small looks at other works, you were piecing together what went on before you walked in that door and Vincent knew it too.
With a better understanding of what set these two off at each other like wild dogs in a cage, you opened your mouth to say something but before you could get a word out Vincent shook his head. He couldn’t hear you say you hated him or that he was disgusting. He could take that from Bo or the tourists, but not you.
His boots heavy on the hardwood as he snatched the sketch book off the dirty tile and snagged a pen out of a coffee cup on the counter before walking out of the house. Vincent could hear you calling out to him, asking him to stop, but he kept his eye forward and his stride back to the woods. His mind a whirlwind of barley coherent thoughts.
He really was the worlds mistake.
And you had to be the worlds greatest creation.
Those two were clearly never supposed to be in each other’s company, let alone be together. Vincent was idiotic for ever believing that you would welcome someone like him into your heart.
He was a fucking freak and you deserve better than that.
Vincent would give you the world if he could. But that wasn’t his place. So he’ll find his way back to that flower bed and create a timeline where he could give you the world.
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