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chapter forty four
florence thompson
song: i'm fakin - sabrina carpenter

Two days after my date with Levi, I was due for my next dinner with Vincent. I was dreading it more than I could even put into words. Just like I had dreaded explaining to Aria why "my mother" had called me with an emergency during my date with Levi after he talked to her. I had proceeded to explain to her that she's a terrible judge of character and that I'd never show up to another date orchestrated by her, as much as I loved her.

It had turned into a funny inside joke between Rico and I though, he was constantly calling me mija now and it left everyone asides from us confused.

Needless to say, by the time that it hit six o'clock and I was rolling up to Vincent's apartment complex, I was a complete mix of so many different emotions. On one hand, I was so angry and upset, on another, I was completely and utterly terrified and not to mention the feeling of helplessness that accompanied it all.

My ride from the bottom floor to his penthouse was faster than it had ever felt, and it was surely due to the universe having it out for me recently.

When the ding went off and the doors slid open, I hadn't expected to immediately be met with Vincent De Bellis, but as I said, the universe hates me since he was stood there in all his handsome glory. He was in his usual white button up and black dress pants, he was in the middle of loosening his tie around his neck when I'd entered, tossing it onto his suit jacket that laid on the couch.

For how well put together he and his home always seemed, for some reason, the simple act of throwing his jacket onto his couch seemed wildly out of character.

When his gaze fell on me, his mismatched eyes lit up immediately and it made my heart beat quicker like the traitor it is. I could feel my cheeks warm, going against me just like every other part of my body right now.

"Florence," he breathed, approaching me quickly with his long strides.

When he got close enough, I could see the exhaustion he wore all over his face. It made my heart ache in my chest, reminding me of the night that he'd left me, he'd looked so worn out that night and it seemed as if nothing had changed in that time.

He didn't say anything else before he wrapped a strong arm against my waist, pulling me close to him and going to lean down towards me. I knew exactly where it was going, and before I could let my heart win over my mind, I turned my head, avoiding any contact.

He quickly caught onto what I was doing and hesitantly pulled back, hooking a gentle finger under my chin and pulling my face up to look at him.

He gazed over my face, looking for something, and it made me laugh mentally. If he had done this two days ago, he would've found all the answers he was looking for.

Too little, too late.

"What's wrong, Florence?" He asked softly, his voice alone making my stomach do somersaults.

"Nothing," I whispered, glancing back and forth between his mismatched eyes.

His thick brows pinched together in a look that told me he didn't believe me for a moment but instead of pressing the matter further, he stepped back and began guiding me towards the balcony where we'd been having our dinners.

He held out my chair for me, allowing me to slip into it before he rounded the table and sat in his usual spot. It was some fancy fish dish with all kinds of garnishes to make the meal look more pleasing. It did its job, but it wouldn't convince me that fish is appetizing, that's for sure.

"How has your week been?" Vincent asked, beginning to dig into his dish as he watched me expectantly with his fiery gaze.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that he is just as human as me and I have no reason to be this ridiculously nervous.

"Good, it's been good," I answered bleakly, grabbing my glass of water and taking a slow sip, making no move to meet his burning gaze. "How has work been?" I asked, attempting to keep him off my tail.

He sighed, finishing chewing the rest of the piece of fish he'd just eaten before speaking up again. "Hectic, that's for sure. It seemed like everything that could go wrong, was, for a minute there," he informed me, a cross look seemed to begin to appear on his features but he was quick to brush it off.

I nodded, taking in the information all while I pushed my food around on my plate slightly.

"I'm sorry I had to leave that night, I wanted to stay longer," he informed me, making my gaze snap up to where he was, sitting across from me.

I wanted to call him out for lying to me right then and there, but I refrained, biting my tongue as I glanced over his features. He looked apologetic, but I was taking it with a grain of salt.

"It's fine," I lied. "I lived."

"Ha-ha," he said dryly, giving me a pointed look with his unimpressed gaze. "I can see that. So what have you been up to?" He asked, placing his fork down before going to take a sip of his water.

"Nothing much, besides working at the diner and trying to keep up with my school work," I admitted. The look on his face, passive as he glanced up at me from his plate, or maybe some unseen force suddenly gave me a surge of confidence and the need to stir the pot and before I could stop myself, my mouth was already open. "I went on a date though," I spoke lamely, glancing up at him.

Immediately his gaze snapped to my face, his expression almost looked slighted but it slipped back into a passive state with an annoyed undertone. I watched him closely as he clenched his jaw, the muscle ticking with the action.

"A date?" He parroted flatly, not moving his gaze from my face.

"A date."

"Cute," was all he came up with, looking quite agitated if you ask me. "Still trying to find Mr. Right?" His tone was more sour than the jug of milk in my fridge, causing my anger to immediately come to a raging boil in my veins.

"Did I ever stop?" I asked tersely, glowering at him across the table. It was amazing how quickly the atmosphere of our conversation shifted into something much darker.

"I guess I wouldn't know, now would I?" He asked, taking the napkin he'd had on his lap and tossing it onto the table before leaning back.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" I fired back, my face already heating up, only this time with anger instead.

He stared at me for a long moment before shaking his head. "Just forget it, Florence." He gritted, shoving himself out of his chair and grabbing his plate before snagging mine as well and leaving me on the balcony in the darkened night air before sauntering angrily back into his penthouse.

With my mouth open, I immediately stood up and followed after him, through the living room and into the kitchen where he was placing the dishes next to the sink.

"No, you know what, I won't forget it!" I exclaimed, exploding with all of the pent up emotions I've bottled up these past few days. "You don't get to be angry, Vincent!"

He turned on his heel, his expression looked deadly and if I wasn't so heated, I probably would've cowered at his glance alone and felt bad for whoever was on the receiving end of it. But now? Oh no, I was ready to fight.

"Who said I was fucking angry?" He snapped, clearly angry, and I'm sure I would've found it comical at any other time.

"Oh, I don't know, your entire demeanor?" I offered, motioning towards him.

"This is not worth my time," he ground out before shaking his head, his messy hair moving around with the action. He went to step by me but my hand immediately flew out and I gripped his arm, effectively stopping him. His gaze lingered on my hand around his arm for a moment before flickering up to my face.

"This isn't worth your time?" I scoffed, releasing him but turning to face him more. "You know what wasn't worth my time?" I asked but didn't give him enough time to reply. "Spending an entire day with you only for you to leave me at eleven o'clock at night and lie to me!" I knew I was going to regret those last words, but the anger that was fueling me didn't seem to care at the moment.

"Lie to you?" He exploded, turning to face me fully now and step closer to me, towering over my small frame but I would be damned if I let that intimidate me. "I never fucking lied to you, Florence!"

Congratulations, God gave you stilts for legs, now get out of my face.

"Oh, that's rich!" I laughed humorlessly, throwing my arms up in the air. "Coming from a man who said he had to leave for work only to get a text from Julia Kline as to if he was coming. Rich, really," I scoffed, shaking my head.

His face immediately fell, his expression softening tenfold. Even though all I wanted was for him to listen to me before, now, thanks to the expression resembling something closer to pity and further from anger, I just wanted him to start yelling again.

"Florence," he breathed, going to reach for me but I immediately stepped back, out of his reach, with wide eyes.

"No, don't you Florence me," I said, furrowing my brows at him and crossing my arms over my chest. The last thing I need right now is him touching me, because I knew he was going to zap my brain cells away and I would be left, lovestruck.

He sighed, dropping his hands to his sides as a pained expression worked its way onto his face.

"You're right," he breathed the words that were possibly the last that I wanted to hear right now. I wanted him to tell me it was all a misunderstanding, that I had it all wrong, but it wasn't seeming like that was the answer that I was going to getting.

"What?" I breathed, my voice soft and brittle, I'd felt like the wind had been knocked out of my chest all over again.

"You're right," he repeated, stepping closer to me. "I lied to you. Julia had just been given terrible news about her mother, and it wasn't mine to hand out. Yes, I did lie to you, but it wasn't for anything other than to console a friend."

I watched him with a befuddled gaze, feeling so internally conflicted. On the one hand, he was being a good friend, but on the other hand, he could've just told me.

And on the other, other hand, I'm acting like a jealous girlfriend when I have no right to.

"You know you could've told me that, right? That you had to go see a friend," I pointed out, crossing my arms over my chest and watching him closely.

He tilted his head slightly, looking at me for a long moment, causing me to squirm in my spot.

"You're telling me I should've kissed you like I had, tried so desperately to not take you then and there on that shitty motel bed, and then tell you I have to leave to see a friend? I feel like that wouldn't have gone over very well, Miss Thompson," he rebutted, giving me a pointed look, and I knew he entirely had a point.

I unfortunately enough hadn't missed his comment, my cheeks warming up quite quickly.

"Point made," I sighed, glancing down to my feet on the ground.

He slowly approached me, much more wary this time around. When he got close enough to me, he wrapped me up in his arms as he had earlier, but this time it was a little more welcomed.

"So about that date?" He asked, his tone teasing and I all but rolled my eyes.

"Worst. Date. Ever."

He laughed loudly, throwing his head back.

• • •

q: what is one of your hobbies??

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