Dependance

All the events of the past few days caught up with Lorna, and slammed into her face (but luckily not slamming on the brakes). One of them being: where in the hell am I? It was just too…odd and shocking. She had never liked to go anywhere without knowing about it, hence why she never used to stray too far from home without anybody. True, she was with Vincent but the female did not think he was quite the experienced tour guide. Another thought was: now she had resorted to criminality would she be able to ever stop being on the run? Was there a chance that she could go somewhere and find a nice quiet house and a job? And there was still Vincent. He did not have a family and he was just like a stray dog who had found the RSPCA. And the RSPCA do not throw the dogs out if they get bored; they give them a home.

Cold cement rolled under the tyres and trees rushed by like a hoard of forest ribbons rippling through the air.

Lorna had not thought into much seriously, but now she forced herself to evaluate both her and Vincent. What was she going to do when all of this was over and her father was far away? No matter how capable he was with exterminating other people, that was not going to get him anywhere on his own. So…he would stay with her? It seemed a sensible decision. After all, she was not fond of being on her own either. And Lorna had grown fond of him.

A small ‘splat’ sounded and brown orbs darted slightly to the bug that had just snuffed it on the windshield.

Abruptly Lorna felt a firm hand on her elbow and the girl snapped her head to see Vincent pointing with his other hand to a hill that split drastically from the long stretch of road they were on. Squinting, the female saw a building on top with an elaborate red sign saying ‘Gas Station’. Lorna turned to Vincent who still held her arm and smiled at him.

Vincent took his hand away and rested it in his lap once more. His marred face looked down to his knees. He inwardly sighed. That moment of him holding her arm and her smiling gently at him…it seemed like a whole different situation. Heck, a fantasy even. Vincent failed to notice the car had slowed to a stop.

“Hey, you coming with?” She asked, gesturing to the gas station, now sitting just a few metres away. It looked kind of quiet. Vincent blinked and gazed to her. He pointed rather bluntly to his face. Lorna rolled her eyes and muttered something about him being a ‘worrywart’. He smiled a little at that. He watched as her lithe body squirmed into the back, a worm at work, and grabbed a brush from one of the bags. She sat back in the front seat. Proceeding to lean forward (which panicked Vincent a bit) she began to comb his hair and create an eccentric parting in his hair, on the side of his face which was not scarred. Her free hand came up and scooped some small disarrayed tresses under her fingernails and to the correct side of his head, making the parting straight.

Vincent’s eye fluttered slightly, revelling in the feeling of the teeth on the brush scraping his head gently. He revelled in the feeling of Lorna messing around with hair.

Lorna’s lips were bordering on a smirk. ’He’s enjoying it? Aw!’

The girl masked his deformity with his hair and brought it all around the back, to the nape of his neck. Of course to do this she had to lean forward more…Lorna began to fumble with her wrist, trying to find her black hair-tie.

Vincent could not believe it. Her arms were around his neck in an embrace, her fingers delving into his hair in light touches. She was enveloping him so softly - like a sarcophagus of safety. His cheeks caught up with his emotions and flushed hotly. For some reason his eye felt overheated. The dull thud of the brush hitting the floor of the vehicle met his ears ten times quieter then it should be. He saw Lorna lick her lips for the tiniest of moments, and in automated reaction he felt himself slowly parting his own. His eye was so hot, he closed it. Lorna chose that second to brush her lips against his. It was like a butterfly was dancing on his mouth, tickling and teasing it. The male could not restrain the moan that wracked his throat.

Suddenly the sound of the car door opening met his ears, and creaking open his eye he saw Lorna getting torn away from him. By her father. His stubbly chin stretched as he gave Vincent a sinister grin. Forcing himself to forget that sense lulling moment, he shook his head and dove out of the truck, anger boiling his very being. He will not take her away form him.

Lorna’s chocolate depths were wide with horror. A pleading glance was conveyed to him before a fist connected with her cheek, effectively snapping her head a good ninety degrees to the right. She landed face first in the dusty straw coloured ground and stayed there quietly, her nose trickling crimson.

“What a coincidence seeing you two here…” Vincent raised his head slowly to set a fiery gaze upon the unkempt man looming over Lorna in such a menacing way. “I suppose I’ll just take my precious daughter and go.”

The man did not manage to bend down before Vincent was upon him, plummeting a punch into the man’s gut. He doubled over, and the male took this chance to haul Lorna up from under the armpits and drag her quickly to the car. Vincent felt something metallic smash around his head in a painful wallop. Lorna limply flopped onto the ground. Something began to ooze and meander silkily in Vincent’s hair.

Lorna had done up the hair. For him.

Vincent swung around and blocked another blow from the assailant with his forearm. The impact rang in the bones of his arms but it did not matter. The scarred man looked at the weapon he hat been hit with. A crowbar. Charming. The deformed man brought his knees in between his opponent’s legs, hard. A agonized yell emitted from the father’s mouth. Vincent fluidly took the crowbar out of the man’s hands easily as he clutched at his crotch. Raising the metal item above his head, Vincent brought it down brutally. A pitter-patter of blood splashed the sandy ground. Lorna’s father was unconscious.

Vincent staggered over to the car and leant his backside against it, sluggishly sliding down it’s surface into a sitting position. He let out an aggravated groan and massaged the back of his head, knowing very well he was acquiring a velvet glove of red. His unfocused eye never left Lorna’s father - he could still make out a dark blur against the pale earth.

A sniffle brought his attention lethargically to the small girl besides him, weeping quietly. Her elbows were digging into the ground whilst she lay down, hands covering her face. Vincent reached out and tugged Lorna up to sit next to him.

They clung to each other, Vincent immobilized in a lazy silence, Lorna cursing the day the had ever been born.

“Let’s go.” Vincent said roughly.