Home is Not a Place

Chapter Four

Luis liked having tea at midnight. It was a habit of his, and the sweet Chamomile blend was his favorite. Nights at his cabin were always peaceful, and he liked to keep it that way.

Until the hardly used phone in his study rang.

Luis never got calls. There was nobody out there for him, and the last time he did was a bitter memory of tears. The sound of his phone surprised him, and for a while, he forgot it was there.

"Hello?"

There was a short pause and then.

"Luis?"

For a second, Luis forgot how to breathe. There was a great minute of stillness before he muffled the end of the receiver and tore a blow across his cheek. The taste of blood was a waking reminder that all of this was real. Vincent had phoned him. Him. The man who's funeral he wouldn't even bother to attend.

"I know this is sudden." Sudden was an understatement. "But there's something important I need to discuss."

Somebody must have died or worse. Luis was the last man on earth Vincent would ever call, and if the world wasn't ending, Luis didn't know what else was bad enough.

"Sebastian. Is Sebastian, alright?" It was scary to think something might have happened to the boy who had Selene's smile.

"Sebastian's fine. It's alright, Luis."

Alright? It wasn't. That was why he was on the phone because it wasn't alright.

"Then, why?"

For a heartbeat, there was a sliver of hope. Luis was foolish that way. Vincent was talking to him, actually talking to him. It's been a long ten years; maybe it was better now.

"It's happening again."

"Pardon?"

"What happened ten years ago. It's happening again."

Luis forgot hope was a lying b***h. And even tho it burned him several times, he still took to it like a stupid moth. Ten years was a long time to regret, a long time to mourn. Another more of those ten years and Luis was going to lose it. He could not stand another tragedy again. No more. Luis had enough of pain. He didn't know how else he was going to take it.

"I can't," he said, there was a sob in his throat. "Vince, I can't anymore. Please, not again. Have I not suffered enough?"

"Luis," there was a wistfulness to his tone, and Luis wished he would stop calling him like that, "I need you."

Need. Luis wanted to be sick. The last time Vincent needed him ended with a lot of blood.