Private Tales Money Talks

[Vincent]

“I wish I would have been...” he mumbled into his hands. Yeah. Death would have been preferable to this hell. Again and again his loved ones around him died, leaving him to carry on with only memories of them.

And her question. A jolt; a slap in the face. He wasn’t completely alone. Vincent had his fair share of friends, but none that he could trust his life to. Or wanted to, even. With Lailah, however, things were different. Trustworthy or not, he wanted to rely on her. From the day they met.

“N.. no,” he said, wiping his eyes. His nose. Regained some semblance of composure. ”Shut up, of course not.”

 

[Lailah]

'I wish I would have been.'

Lailah frowned and clenched her jaw so hard she feared her teeth might break but she knew she'd be a hypocrite to chastise his notion of wishing for his own death. Somehow, the thought of Helena doing it had angered her, the thought of Van wishing it hurt her too, and yet every time she'd attempted it she thought of nothing but the simple need for this hell of a life to be over. Perhaps, there would have been people who'd have been angry and hurt if she'd succeeded too.. the thought hadn't crossed her mind until now, now that she saw another perspective.

"You shut up..." she answered in a sigh after a while, grabbing a towel and kneeling in front of him now that his rage seemed to have subsided a little. She reached the towel hesitantly to his gaunt face to wipe at it. Her hands were shaking. They were always shaking lately.

"If I'm not alone then how could you possibly be? I have no-one else, Van. Nowhere else to turn and I need your help as much as you need mine." she frowned gently and huffed. "So you're gonna straighten the fuck out...Or you're going to drag me straight down there with you." her brow arched. He might have been a spiralling mess right now, he might not have cared about his own life, but he'd helped her before and she knew the old Van would have cared about hers enough to try.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent quietly sat, letting her dab at his paled skin. After letting her words sink in, he quietly snorted.

“That’s not fair, latching onto me. Just let me... let me be.” Silence again. “Alex and I took a liking to each other when she first arrived. Years ago. I was... twenty-two? Twenty-three? She was... this bright-eyed, brash... stubborn girl. But I loved the way she was. Things don’t often work out you know- between a courtesan and two-bit thug. I regularly sent money to her after I left, even though we decided to go our own ways. Found out she’d been using that to...” He gestured at one of the vials. “Never found out why. She never told me a thing.”

He hadn’t loved anyone since. Nothing hurt quite as much as watching her fall in the deep hole that he found currently himself in. He also understood why she couldn’t stay out of it.

“And, Gods, Helena...” his lips quivered, his voice wavered.

It didn’t need to be said that she deserved, well, better than what she got.

 

[Lailah]

“Yeah, well, life isn’t fair..” she answered him bluntly as she threw the towel away. She shifted slightly to sit next to him as she listened to him speak of Alexandra, and she faced forward rather than look at him and let him see the pity that she felt and had trouble hiding. Her hand snaked under his elbow to curl around his arm and her head tilted to rest on his shoulder, her other bloodied hand rubbing idly at his bicep. If he’d been susceptible at all to her magic, he’d have felt soothed by it, but she was quickly realising that she had absolutely no magical effect on him at all. A subject she’d broach at another time, perhaps.

Lailah no longer made a habit of making her talents obvious, people were fond of them, became addicted to them, and they’d already gotten her caged. It irritated her that he was quite literally the only person she wanted to help right now, and the only person that she couldn’t. She sighed at the feeling of hopelessness and tightened her hug on his arm as he mentioned Helena.

An apology almost fell from her lips, but she caught it and it stung to swallow. Her eyes teared again and she cried silently against his shoulder. She hadn’t been able to get the pretty woman’s mutilated face, or the sounds of her screams, out of her mind. She’d killed the man who’d done it, but it wasn’t his face that haunted her, nor the beating she’d taken that’d taken her days to wake up from. Just Helena, and a few other dead faces of the girls she’d enjoyed breakfast with. She wouldn’t be easily convinced that it wasn’t entirely her fault.

“I’m going to draw you a bath, and get you something to eat before there’s nothing left of you..” she mumbled against his bony shoulder.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent felt nothing, of course. Didn't even know what she was capable of. Still, her slender hand, the weight of her head, was comforting enough.

"Yeah," he muttered, "Do what you want. Should be... something around here."

He hadn't eaten a proper meal in days—scraps, here and there. Just enough to silence his screaming belly.

The now-abandoned coastal village got by on fishing. Even as all the people slowly left for the city or elsewhere, down by the beach remained plenty of small boats and fishing supplies. Whenever he would come to the village to lie low, he'd often use what was left behind to find food. As Lailah's weight lifted off his shoulder, he entertained the thought of teaching her how to fish.

The idea was a fleeting one, and he absently stared down at the floor.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah pulled herself back onto her knees and wiped her face. She shot him a glance before reaching hesitantly to pick up the scattered vials and return them to the box which she set down on his bedside table as she stood, her hand lingering on the lid for a moment before she turned to reach her hands out to him.

“Come on. Up.” She sighed, she’d lips twisting. He was a sorry sight, but she tried not to let her expression betray her thoughts, instead there was nothing but determination and warmth. Taking care of him would in turn give her purpose and the distraction she needed right now.

It took a little time to fill the tub. She found some time to get herself cleaned up, the blood she scrubbed from her hands and neck turning a small basin of water a murky pink.

“Alright.. I’ll leave you to bathe.” she nodded as she poured the last pot of steaming water in. She moved back to his bedside and lifted the box, hugging it to her chest. She wasn’t taking the chance of leaving it here with him. “I’ll go find us some food.”

 

[Vincent]

He let Lailah pull him onto his feet. Reluctantly, of course. A quiet, tired huff passed his lips.

"Always causin' trouble, huh," Vincent's voice trailed away as he quietly remarked on the blood that she washed off. Well, little did he know the nature of that trouble.

"Right, right. Good luck." He raked his hair back and stared at the steam that rose from the wooden tub. "Thanks."

As she left, Vincent dropped his pants and slowly slid into the tub. One leg, followed by another. It was hot. Almost uncomfortably so. As he submerged himself deeper and deeper, the discomfort faded away and he settled in. He breathed an almost happy, relieved sigh.

Vincent would come down the stairs sometime later, fully dressed in a baggy shirt (it wasn't always so), and loose pants. He was drying his damp hair with a towel.

 

[Lailah]

"Mhm... Trouble.." she'd muttered as she left the room, her lips curling slightly at his thanks..

Lailah had used her time, knowing exactly where he was and what he was doing, to leave the house in search of some decent food. There were merchants lined along a small dock a short walk away, selling various fish and shellfish and she picked up some vegetables, potatoes and bread from the others. The walk helped clear her head and refocus a little, pushing down the brief waves of panic as her mind drifted back to the morning's events and she quickly shoved the thoughts away by reminding herself that Vincent needed her calm and focused. She hadn't been followed. They'd never look for her here. She was safe, and though she still faced her demons, Vincent did too, and she owed it to him to give him her undivided attention... Whenever the time came when he no longer needed her, that was when she'd have to deal with her own troubles.

She drew in a last breath of the warm, salty air before stepping back through the door. She listened for a moment, and when she was sure he was still bathing she prepared the food. She wasn't much of a cook, but fish soup couldn't be too difficult. Everything was thrown into the pot, water and seasoning were added, and it was placed over the stove. She shrugged to herself, and spent the rest of the time cleaning and making the place cosy, lighting candles as the sun cast it's golden hour light through the windows, and she'd settled down in an armchair with some tea by the time he came downstairs.

"How d'you feel?.." she asked, casting him a warm but wavering smile as she got up to ladle some soup into a bowl and slice some bread, taking both to the table for him.

"Be gentle..." she winced.

 

[Vincent]

How did he feel? Not particularly better or worse. Not particularly good or bad. It was nothing. A numbness that spread to the tips of his fingers and toes.

”At least I don’t smell,” he managed a half-hearted smile to Lailah and sat at the table. The soup smelled good, but a very stubborn part of him didn’t want to admit it. Or eat it. Still, he raised a spoonful towards his mouth and blew on it, finally sipping at the flavorful broth. ”It’s good,” he conceded and quietly remarked.

It was then he noticed how hungry he was. In no time, the bowl was emptied. The bread was gone.

”What happened?” Vincent finally asked her.

 

[Lailah]

Her cheeks dimpled a little as she beamed only briefly in response to his smile. It was reassuring, and a she found a tendril of growing hope that he was still in there somewhere. She felt an unrealised tension in her shoulders ease at the thought and they sagged with a sigh in relief as the soup passed as edible. She watched him eat every morsel with a small smile on her lips, irremovable even as she drank her tea and only dwindling at his question. She set the cup down.

"I don't want to think about that right now. Lets just..." her lips thinned and her head shook as tried to find something to say other than 'focus on you' and risk scaring him off with the pressure that came with a statement like that.. "Breathe." she huffed out after a moment and her lips curled again.

She pushed a cup of tea that smelled like cranberries and ginger in front of him and stood to clear the table.. "There's plenty more soup." her brow quirked in mute question. He was going to need to get used to her feeding him. "It's a nice house, nice place too.. Perhaps, when you're feeling up to it, we could go down to the beach. I've never actually been in the sea before." her lips pursed and twisted awkwardly, slightly ashamed of her admission. There were no seas where she came from... She supposed swimming might be physically possible now, she could at least try.

 

[Vincent]

The warm tea, the steaming soup. All to comfort him. She collected all the scattered, broken pieces of him together, one piece at a time, mending them with each act of kindness. Vincent quietly lifted the cup of tea to his lips, taking a small sip of it.

He hated tea. Its bitter astringency. The way that its only real flavors came from its aromatic hints. Yet he sipped again and again, if only urged on by its warmth and Lailah’s concern for him.

“The waters here have always been clear, unlike that in the city.” He remarked, “Perhaps before the weather becomes too cold, you’ll get the opportunity to enjoy the sea.”

It was a nice house, despite its small size. Vincent had spent several years tidying it up, making it a cosy place to retreat to.

“Where’re you from?” Her admission had reminded him of months ago, when they waded through the packed city streets. It was clear to him then that she hadn’t been in Alliria for all her life like him, though of course he’d never asked.

 

[Lailah]

"Hm.." she smiled warmly, staring out the window at the sparkling expanse of blue as she washed his dishes. "I can't swim, but I suppose you could teach me." she glanced over her shoulder at him with a smirk.

She was drying her hands when he asked the question, and she was suddenly dragged from momentary calm contentment to a sinking feeling of dread and shame as she thought of home. She looked down, glad to have her back to him, her expression had a vile way of betraying her emotions by acting on it's own accord. "A little north of the Spine. Came to Alliria four years ago." she answered, folding the towel and putting it back neatly in place, just as everything should be.

She turned back to face him and leaned against the counter, chewing on her lip for a moment. "I really have to bathe.." she laughed under her breath but her tone and gaze were void of amusement. Despite scrubbing her skin she could still smell blood and each time she breathed it in it stirred another wave of nausea in the pit of her stomach. But she was quite clearly nervous about leaving him on his own..

"Will you, be alright on your own?.. I mean, I know you're quite able just." she paused and let out a huff, fixing her gaze on him and lifting a brow. "Are you alright?" she asked in a sigh, her arms folding across her stomach and teeth chewing idly on her lower lip. She didn't want to offend him by her distrust, but he wasn't in the state he was in for his virtue of self restraint.

 

[Vincent]

“Four years,” he quietly echoed to himself, “the Spine? I can’t picture you being from some small... mountain village.”

Despite his own state, he could see her pain. Of course, it was far from identical. Vincent felt the guilt of not having been there to protect those he loved. Lailah felt she was entirely to blame. Yet it was of a similar nature and something they could share.

”I don’t know,” he mumbled, ”are you going to tell me where you hid my stuff?”

 

[Lailah]

Her brow furrowed slightly. Her home had been anything but what he’d described, but it wasn't her home any more and it pained her too much to speak about. She had enough to feel regret and shame over as it was without opening that slowly healing wound back up. "Yeah, well.. I guess I blended in to Alliria pretty fast." she smirked, but it failed to reach her eyes.

She let out a quiet groan at his question. As much as she wanted him to stop using, she knew cold turkey was cruel and she had absolutely no desire to see him so angry again. Then again, she considered that a few days of torment and potential violence rather than weeks of slow weaning might be a better idea..

"No.." she answered finally with a slight wince.. "But, I can help you through it, Van. You can't keep using it like you were, I can find you something else, even, something a little less.. potent." she huffed and ran her fingers into her hair. She'd helped several people through similar afflictions with little more than the use of her abilities and now without the use of them with him, she really wasn't sure what to do at all.

"Can't you just.. stop?" she frowned and dropped her gaze to her feet rather than watch him get angry again.

 

[Vincent]

Help.

Vincent wholeheartedly believed he was undeserving of her help. While she fought against it, he would have preferred to remain alone and live his last moments just like that. Alone. Alex had been alone. Helena, too.

"Were it so easy," he quietly responded. Even if he wanted to snap at her, he didn't have the energy for it. "Go wash up, then. I'll bide my time with... soup."

He rose and strode across the small kitchen to the stove and pot, filling his bowl. Dropping the ladle back into the pot, he stared at the contents of his bowl and heavily sighed before returning to his seat.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah bit down on her lip and gave him a slow nod as she watched him.. "Alright.." she agreed hesitantly, glancing around the room as though searching for anything else that he could get hold of as though she were about to leave a toddler unsupervised. He'd survived all this time on his own, but only barely by the looks of things. Not that she was much better off..

She offered a small smile as he sat down with another bowl of soup and she pushed herself away from the counter to take herself upstairs to pour herself a bath. As the water warmed, she busied herself tidying his room a little more, searching for any more drugs he might've stashed. If he had, they were well enough hidden.

Lailah stripped gingerly. Vincent wasn't the only one who'd lost weight and her skin, still blotched with dried blood, clung to her ribs and spine. She picked at the bandages wrapped around her arms from wrists to elbows and unravelled them, wincing as she looked over the deep, stitched wounds that ran the full length of them. A few other attempts had healed and scarred. Her jaw clenched as they were submerged into the scalding hot water and she slowly sunk into it, letting her face sink below the surface.

She stayed there as her mind seemed to consider whether or not she should just let her air run out.

Just another minute, and it'd be over with.
..................
.............
......
..
And who would find you?

A rush of water sloshed over the sides of the tub as she sat up suddenly, dragging the frigid air back into her starving lungs and she coughed between gasps. Her hands shook and she wiped the water from her eyes and buried her face in them, fresh tears falling as she quietly swore at herself.

She savoured her breaths for a while before washing her skin and hair of blood and tears and stepping out of the tub. She threw her clothes in to soak, wrapped her arms in some fresh linen and pulled on one of Van's shirts after she'd dried off. He was a fair bit taller and broader than she was, and so it pretty much drowned her and acted like more of a short dress. It'd do for now.

"I need to get some new clothes.." she muttered as she padded barefoot back down the stairs vigorously rubbing her towel into her wet hair.

 

[Vincent]

Funnily enough, Vincent hadn't once thought of taking his own life. Well, perhaps not seriously, anyway. Though, with his current habits, was there much of a difference? The result would be the same. Maybe a sober part of him, deep deep down, knew of that and wanted to painfully drag it out.

Whatever.

Lailah came down just as Vincent finished his third bowl of soup; there was still plenty left, but Vincent hadn't eaten a proper meal in quite a while. While before he could, now stomaching so much food was a challenge. It had made him feel good, too.

A face with gaunt cheeks and sunken eyes turned to look at the white-haired woman and took in the way the loose shirt fell over a slender frame, though hugging her just tightly enough for him to trace the subtle curves of her body with his gaze.

"Sure," he quietly responded, "I'm sure there's... something around the village."

The sea-side village was mostly abandoned, at least in the area that Vincent lived. He hadn't looked much before, but there was sure to be some things left behind in the homes. Clothes, personal belongings. Or, maybe not. Vincent hadn't planned on ever stepping foot in Alliria again, but the thought of having Lailah prance around the small house in nothing but a loose shirt was... almost discomforting.

She was beautiful, no doubt, and perhaps before Vincent would have acted on his more carnal urges with her. But now, not so much. So, yes, they would need to get her new clothes.

"The soup was good," he said and quickly glanced down at the empty bowl, to distract himself from her chest as she energetically dried her hair, "thanks."

 

[Lailah]

She fixed her hair over her ears and hung the towel around her neck as she wandered over to help herself to a bowl of soup. She smiled to herself seeing how much he'd managed to eat and she accepted his compliment with a shrug and a small smirk cast over her shoulder to him.. "You're welcome... Seems i'm a bit of a domestic goddess when I want to be.." she laughed under her breath.

Her hand shook as she lifted the bowl to serve herself a ladleful and she huffed to herself as she had to put it down, rubbing the back of her wrist to her brow in irritation.. "Fuck, we're a mess." she forced a laugh and cleaned up the splashes of spilled soup before joining him at the table.

Lailah had to bite her lip to stop her from asking him how he was feeling. It was a natural question, but if she could avoid making him think about how he was feeling then perhaps that would be better for him. She stared down at the soup as she sloshed it around with a spoon, her lips pressing thinly as she tried to find her appetite.

"Maybe, we could take a walk? When was the last time you were outside?.." her head tilted at him.

 

[Vincent]

Domestic goddess.

Vincent breathed out a chuckle. It was a comfort to see that, while many other things did change, some stayed the same.

"Speak for yourself, I've never felt better," he muttered. As she sat, he looked over her again. Her strained expression. The way she idly stirred her soup.

"Summer's passed. The temperature has been dropping at night. It'll start during the day, too." Vincent slightly frowned. "I don't want to go out."

 

[Lailah]

She couldn't help but give in to a genuine smile as he chuckled at her. It felt like things were starting to thaw a little, but she was under no illusion that they could frost over again at any time. Might as well appreciate it whilst it lasted..

"Hah. Well you look like shit." she answered, lifting her eyes to watch him watching her for a moment. She chased a cube of potato around the bowl as she listened to him, her brow dipping slightly at his words. Lailah didn't enjoy the cold either, but her shoulders shrugged at him.

"So wear a coat. I don't want to eat but my body needs it. Yours could do with a bit of daylight." she muttered and finally lifted a spoonful of the soup to her lips and ate. "Wouldn't need to be far... Just down to the beach. You said you'd help me learn to swim." .. Sort of. Her lip pouted slightly.

 

[Vincent]

"Maybe after we get you some actual clothes," the frown he wore rose into a smug smirk, "you're not even eating. Playing with your food is rude."

He didn't want to go out later any more than he did now, but pushing the topic aside was the best he could manage at the moment. A heavy sigh passed his lips.

"I'm surprised you remembered how to get here."

 

[Lailah]

A faint blush coloured her cheeks and she made a face at him as he taunted her before resigning to a small smile and a shrug. "Fair enough.." She took another spoonful of food and chewed, staring at him under a few unruly locks of pearly hair. She was silent for a moment and idly stabbed at a carrot with her spoon..

"I, memorised your directions. It was all I thought about..." she admitted with a gentle frown. "I'd have come sooner I just didn't want to risk being followed. And, I didn't think you'd want to see me.." she chewed on her lip and dragged her stormy eyes back to her food. It'd taken Alvaro some time to trust her again, she'd been watched constantly and she'd resorted to climbing back into bed with the man in the hopes she'd find her opportunity to leave. Her mind drifted back to the apartment, the thought of his men finding him there with that idiotic look of shock on his blood spattered face. She sneered at the memory of it and pushed the bowl away from her.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent stoically cast his gaze to the side, but with his pitiful appearance he only looked sad. The sound of her bowl scraping against the table filled the silence between them.

“I never blamed you. Not even for a moment.”

He could have... at least saved somebody.

“My parents were wealthy, you know. Successful merchants, owned warehouses by the docks, had some ships for trade. You had to pass through one of the old warehouses to get here.” He quietly snorted. “They passed away when I was little. Missing at sea, they said. ‘Course, I believed it. Now, though?”

He fell silent.

“That’s when Georgiana took me in. Found me, starving in a gutter somewhere.” He smiled, “She thought it was better if I abandoned the Vasteel name- that’s where Van came from...”

There was a debt there, one that he owed for being given a second life. A second family. Even if he had done his share of work to pay it off, it wouldn’t ever be enough. He wouldn’t ever be satisfied. And now, he’d never repay it.

Vincent leaned over the table and rested his face on the palm of his hand. His features tightly scrunched, and became powerless to the silent tears that rolled down his cheeks.

 

[Lailah]

Lailah’s eyes remained fixed on the bowl of barely- eaten food in front of her. She couldn’t look at him when he said that, she believed him, but the fact of the matter remained that it would never have happened if she hadn’t gone back to the bordello in the first place. She pulled the loose cuffs of his shirt over her wrists and hands and hugged her arms around her ribs.

She glanced at him as he started speaking of his parents and their apparent death at sea, and her brow dipped. He heard the smile in his voice as he spoke of Georgiana and her heart sank to the pit of her stomach and broke as she watched him cry like that.

“Van..” she whispered with a quake in her voice and she stood to go to the side of his chair, reaching to run her fingers into his hair. “Georgiana got away. They were looking for her, they couldn’t find her..” she told him as soothingly as she could without breaking down herself and tried to pull him into some sort of hold in attempt to offer some modicum of comfort for both of them if she could.

 

[Vincent]

Vincent, weak to the comfort of Lailah’s warm touch, let her pull him in. His brow rested on her shoulder, tears wetting her shirt, and he tightly gripped the fabric. There was no stopping the soft, pitiful sounds of his agony.

Only a few minutes passed, but it could have been an eternity. Vincent loudly sniffed and pulled away, his grip on her finally loosening.

”Sorry,” he blinked and wiped his eyes with the heel of his palm.