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His eyes locked onto Chad’s and
Chad froze, wide-eyed.
He forced himself to take another step, but found he couldn’t take any more after that. Vincent’s gaze whipped over him, his expression turning from mildly curious, to excited. He leaned closer to the glass. “You’re the last person I expected they’d send…”
Chad continued into the room and sat down on the chair opposite Vincent. They felt up close and personal, despite the two-inch-thick glass between them.
Vincent continued his visual exploration of Chad’s features, roaming his gaze over his face, up to his slightly sweaty hair. He frowned at Chad’s unbuttoned shirt, narrowing his eyes until Chad felt the compulsion to fasten the last button.
He resisted the urge, but only just.
While Vincent studied him, Chad did the same.
He’d been expecting someone bigger, wider, but Vincent’s clothes hung off his frail body, and his face appeared gaunt, skeleton-like. Dark circles sunk his eyes into his face, and Chad couldn’t see any color in his irises, it looked as if he had huge pupils dominating the whites of his eyes.The edges of his lips were red and sore, and when he opened his mouth, they cracked but no blood filled the lines.
“You’re more handsome than the man in the documentary.” Vincent said.
“What?”
“The Romeo Knight documentary. You feature in episode two. Have you watched it?”
“No.”
“Guess you don’t need to when you’ve lived it. The actor paying you though in the reconstructions…” Vincent scrunched up his face. “Far too blubbery and weepy for my liking. I imagine if you really did act like that, Romeo would’ve just slit your throat there and then rather than deal with the headache.”
The crack at the edge of Vincent’s mouth finally filled with blood as he smiled. Chad tore his gaze away from it and looked Vincent in the eye.
“I’m not here to talk about the documentary.”
“That’s a shame.”
“I’m here to talk about Tate—”
“It’s cancer in case you’re wondering about my appearance…”
Chad blinked.
He’d seen the mug shot of Vincent on his phone with a full head of hair, and a slight smile on his face. In front of Chad sat a gaunt weak man, unrecognizable from Vincent’s younger self, but then he smiled. His lips curled upwards and brought a gleam to his eyes and it was the same mocking smile on his face in his mugshot.
“Usually when people say they’ve got cancer they’re met with sympathy. There’s a somber apology of some sort, or an enquiring question about treatment, but not with you.”
“I don’t have time.”
“What’s the rush?” Vincent raised an eyebrow.
Chad could only tell by the way his skin arched and wrinkled on his forehead.
“It was you that wanted a visit with me.”
“To talk about Tate.”
“And we will, but first I want to ask you a question.”
Don’t let him in your head.
“I’m not going to answer.”
“Then Lynn can answer.” Vincent waved at her hovering in the doorway of Chad’s room.
