Des wandered aimlessly in the forest. The erie quiet of the land only served as a reminder that she was not among the living. Creatures scattered away whenever she approached and the trees themselves seemed to bend away from her.
She paid no mind, at least tried to anyway. She always found comfort in the situation, tried to see the positive side of things. This way, nothing would bother her and no one would find her. People tended to steer clear of paths where the temperature dropped and the animals avoided. But she wasn't concerned very much on being found. Right now, all she could think about was Vincent. He'd come home that night completely worn out, those eyes of his that once held so much joy seemed. . . dead. She shrugged it off, blaming it on the day they've had. She still didn't really know if she was right on her assumption. The next day had been his parent's birthday party and she was forced to leave until he came for her in the morning. . . which was about four hours ago.
She really shouldn't have worried, nothing would happen to him, would it?
Pacing was only making the waiting worse!
Alright. . . that's it! Her patience was worn as she saw the sun begin to set on the horizon. She flashed into Vincent's room, her eyes immediately drawn to the pile of covers and pillows on the bed.
"Vince?" She waited for a response, hoping that it really was Vince and not his sibling. When there was no response Des hesitated. Maybe there was a good reason that Vince hadn't-
"Des?"
Her eyes turned to the muffled sound of his voice underneath the mess.
"Vince, why didn't you come get me?" She had to dig for him, when she finally pulled back the last of the pillows Vincent all but hissed and squinted his eyes against the environment.
"Don't do that." Was all he said before burring himself back underneath. Don't ... do ... that? Des frowned at his behavior. He'd never. . . acted like this before. He rarely ever slept in, especially this late and he never forgot about her. He acted as if he didn't even know what she was talking about. It was then that she noticed the darkness of the room. . . and the ''light'' still burned his eyes? Her gaze turned to his nightstand and what she found completely shocked her. There were two. . . three. . . four? Empty beer bottles. Had he . . . really. . . been . . . Drinking?
"Vincent, what have you done-"
"Shhhh, Des. Don't talk so... loud. I'm not in the mood today, k?" He receded further into the damned fabric. Oh. . . he didn't want loud noises did he?
Des willed his stereo on, letting the rock he usually listened to blare full blast in the room. She did not feel one ounce of guilt when Vincent nearly jumped right out of his skin. His disheveled look only satisfied her further as he turned to look at her. His mouth moved, she was pretty sure to tell her to stop the sounds but she couldn't hear him over the deafening guitar and drum solo that kicked in. Finally, he gave up in trying to get her to turn it off and he stumbled his way towards his stero. He pressed the off button over and over again but the music didn't stop. Vincent's hands moved to clutch his head, his features contorted into that of pain but she let the music play for another ten seconds before turning it off and giving him peace.
"What the hell, Des?!" He shouted at her. She'd never seen him angry at her before, but at this point, she didn't care. He'd been drinking. . . drinking!
Des was not completely cold hearted. She started piecing together the 'why' of the situation. She knew how sad he was, how much he suffered from day to day with that damned job that he kept saying he 'loved' so much. It was why she had turned on the music. She wasn't going to let him sulk in bed and fall deeper in that depression. No, she wouldn't let him.
"Get up Vincent, it's time we went out."
