Dependance

A yawning breath was stolen from Lorna's mouth as her mind gripped onto conciousness. Clearing the waking fuzz from her mind, she peeled back her eyelids to stare at the white washed ceiling. Thank God it wasn't morning! The only time when waking up actually feels pleasant is usually late morning or afterwoods. She quietly listened to her and Vincent's breathing and the rustling trees. But besides that there was just that deafening morning sound that teased the eardrums.

"Are you awake, Vince?" Lorna asked out monotonously.

"Yeah." Came a reply from her right. Vincent, who was lay on his side and staring at the plain walls, shifted and stretched little to get that 'Just-Woke-Up' stiffness from his limbs. The back of his thigh rubbed up against her knee, and his breathe caught in his throat. The skin was smoothe...

Reluctantly, seeing the tense muscles in his back, Lorna drew her knee away from his leg. In all her life, she never would have thought a thirty year old to be shy about such things...But then again, from what he had told her about his past life - being put down by his brother, and generally outcasted - she doubted he had much experience with girls. Lorna herself had only done the 'basic' stuff: kiss, snog, and cuddle. She tore herself from the comfy bed. She did not want to, but judging by the sun, it was around early afternoon.

"I'm just going to get ready and make us breakfast. And by the way, I've kind of been forgetting to check that stab wound on your back, so after breakfast we can sort that out, okay?"

Vincent muttered a positive reply. He watched silently as Lorna walked over to her wardrobe and picked out a couple of things. He saw a flash of pastel pink and his cheeks flared to match. A stirring in his lower abdomen made him look away and focus on something else (his boots). This was just getting out of hand now...unless he wanted to be walking bow-legged for the rest of his life, Vincent figured he would need to do something about the problem at hand. Keeping his hearing sharp, he listened for the tell-tale sign that Lorna had finished in the bathroom. Meanwhile he tried hard to keep his hands still. Twenty minutes later, he heard a flush of the toilet, and the soft padding of Lorna's bare feet on the stairs. Releif flooding his being, Vincent waited a moment until he was sure she had descended fully and then hopped out of bed.

A few moments later, Vincent was stood in front of the toilet. It's pristine, shiny white surface beckoned for him to just...deface it. The lines in his face showed some slight worry. He had not done this in years...Usually there was no reason for it. He and Bo worked hard on killing, then he would work extra hard on the artistic part of the job. He remembered briefly in his late childhood about being chided by his parents about it. Mainly his mother; he did not understand what was so wrong about it. Then during adolescence, Bo had -for once- encouraged him. Told him it was healthy, and stopped you doing bad things. His nails curled anxiously in the whisps of hair that lead down from his bellybutton. His fingers fumbled at the hem of his black boxer shorts. His hands gripped the material and tugged it down slowly. And he took an intake of breath for preperation.

Downstairs in the kitchen Lorna was poking at the eggs in the frying pan. Spatula in hand, she hummed a completely made up tune while the fat in the frying pan sizzled and hissed. The girl suddenly heard the mechanical whooshing sound from inside the wooden walls that singalled the toilet had been flushed. Approximately ten minutes later, Vincent walked down the stairs, attired in baggy black jeans with silver chains on either side of his hips and a red t-shirt. Lorna glanced at him for a moment and smiled, before returning her gaze to the pan. After shovelling the eggs and toast that had been under the grill onto two plates, she went to the kitchen table and placed them neatly on the wooden surface. Lorna glanced to Vincent again and noticed his skittish movements as he sat down; and the fact that his cheeks were a faint rosy colour. She furrowed her brow in confusion. Was he sick? Either that or he was not much a morning person either. Mentally shaking her head, Lorna dug a fork into the white of her egg.

After breakfast, the two were in the bathroom. Lorna was perched precariously on the edge of the bathtub, while Vincent was sat on the floor with his elbows resting on his knees. His crimson shirt lay crumpled on the floor. A bother really, seeing as he had just put it on not half an hour ago. He could feel Lorna's delicate fingers hooking under the thread and pulling the stitches out as best they could. Vincent still winced though at the feeling of the cotton snaking through the fibres of his skin. He suddenly remembered what he had been meaning to ask her.

"Lorna?" She made a 'hm' noise that showed she was listening. "...What are tampons and sanitary towels for?" He asked in his deep wavering voice. The hand that had previously been cleaning up Vincent's gunky would grounded to a holt.

"W-what?" Lorna stuttered, brown eyes bulging from their sockets. He didn't ...know? Well, it was true that he was male, but surely he had managed to grasp some outline of it all by his age, right? Vincent had now swivelled his head around and was looking at Lorna with an expectant glimmer in his grey eye. The girl looked down at him, her muscles around her lips twitching with the force between different emotions. Shock - for the fact he had asked that question. Wonder - at where his parent's had got off keeping him in the dark about all this. And horror - how in the world was she going to keep a straight face while explaining all of it? She could not just leave him in the dark, not when he was in his mid-thirties!

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"The blood comes from where?" Vincent just managed to exclaim.

Lorna kneeded her knuckles into her temples. By all that is sugary, help meeeee!

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After a very nerve wracking conversation, Lorna sighed in releif. She had, due to comfort reasons, slid down onto the bathroom floor with Vincent. Is this what a mother felt like?

"Is that all you need to know?" She asked cautiously, remembering how - after explaining that all females eventually started their menstrual cycles - he had interjected with a curious 'what's it for?' He shook his head quietly, mind buzzing with activity.

So that's how the whole baby thing is possible! But these periods don't sound pleasant... Suddenly Vincent began to ponder another question...

"If having children sounds that bad, why do people do it?" He queried.

Oh God another one! Thought Lorna.

"Well...there are quite a few things: the fact that you have created life, watching it grow up and take on it's own personality, giggles, first words and steps, someone to look after you when you are old. All that mushy crap. And of course the actual baby-makin'." Lorna laughed. Vincent sent a confused look her way.

"What's good about that?"

"It's just...good." Lorna deadpanned. He clearly was not getting the jist of what she was saying. "You know...It feels good."

"Oh." Vincent replied, remember earlier this morning. Then he asked her something else, timidly.

"Are you only suppose to do that with someone if you're planning a child?"

Oh geez, and here comes the topic of self-pleasure, the girl thought apprehensively. As if her cheeks weren't red enough. She was half expecting a swarm of bees to be buzzing around her face looking for pollen. Then again Vincent was looking pretty flushed himself.

"No. Some people do it for fun. Some people do it for themselves." Lorna explained carefully, trying hard not to stumble over her words. The fact that Vincent had not put his shirt back on was not helping, at all!

"Themselves?" Vincent asked, a puzzled look sitting among his features.

"Uh...yeah. I-it's called masturbation if you do it yourself." Lorna stuttered slightly. She had a breif flashback of when she was younger and everyone used to giggle uncontrolablly at that word 'masturbation'. By the look on the man's face he obviously did not get the D.I.Y. part. "You know...touching yourself there..." Her face felt like they could evapourate.

"Oh...right..." Vincent's eyes quickly side-glanced the toilet and a nervous writhing in his stomach made him cringe. He took a deep breath. There was no way she could know, he reminded himself.

"Aside from this long-winded conversation your back is fine. I'm so suprised that it hasn't got infected, seeing as how it was left for such a long time. There are only some scabs, but you'll probably be left with a scar." Abruptly, Vincent burst out into a violent coughing fit. "Ooh.." Lorna grimaced, patting him on the back. "Guess all them questions ran your throat ragged, huh?" He nodded. "Well let's go downstairs and get your a glass of water."