(( is it too soon to update? I don't know and I don't care I just love my pun right there ^

Also I took a screenshot of a certain point to keep the right font but if you can't read it (I'm especially lookin' at chu mobile-users) please let me know and I'll swap it over to plain text.))

"Vincent, can I see you in here, please?" 

Vincent rolled his eyes. It was bad enough he had to work double time at the moment - with no pay raise - seeing as Scott couldn't even man up enough to show up at work, his Boss had been ten times as annoying.

"What?" Vincent walked into the Boss's office and parked himself huffily in the chair. Anyone else at this point would have said he was acting like Mike (not that Vincent would have believed it, because, please, he'd never be that petty).

Boss regarded him carefully from behind the desk, "Watch your tone, Bishop, don't give me a reason to fire you. Have you been in contact with Scott, recently?"

Vincent shrugged, and was about to snap a retort, before catching himself, "No. He stopped calling me. We haven't talked in... a week."

"That's what I thought," Boss sighed and leaned over to the left of the desk. A phone sat there. He pressed a button and a loud beep emanated from it, followed by:

"Hello? Hello, hello? Hey. It's, um, Scott here,"

Despite himself, Vincent felt a pang in his heart at the sound of his voice. He suddenly saw an image in his mind's eye, Scott after their first kiss, his brown eyes wide and soft like melted chocolate, his face pink with the cutest blush Vincent had ever laid eyes on, his arms wrapped cautiously around Vincent as if he worried he was too fragile to hold close.

"Uh, anyway," Scott's voice on the phone continued. "Look, Vincent and I went out the other day, and..." He trailed off for a second, and Vincent thought he heard just the slightest of sniffles. When Scott spoke again, he sounded depressed, "U-um... I... got sick! Heh," Scott laughed nervously, "Yeaah. Sucks, doesn't it? I-I've been in bed all day. So... I might not be able to come to work today... or tomorrow... ...or after that... D-Don't worry about me, though! I'm taking good care of myself! Drinking soup and snuggling up in the blankets... P-Please don't come over, and tell Mom and Dad not to come check on me either. I, uh... don't wanna make anyone sick so... Yeah! Just thought I'd let you know. Byee!"

There was another beep; the message had ended.

Vincent and Boss sat in silence for a while.

"Scott is many things," Boss said at last. "He's a gentleman, he's an idiot, he's way too naïve, he's a nervous wreck. Most of all, though, the number one thing you need to know about Scott? He's an awful liar."

Vincent laughed at that, a sad kind of laugh, because he'd just remembered the time Scott had wiped lipstick off of his face from the kitchen maids, giving him that over-protective mom kind of a look. "Yeah. That's true."

"I'm not going to ask you what happened between you two, but could you do me a favour? Scott left this behind last time he was at work," Boss reached under his desk and pulled out a plain brown notebook. He slid it across to Vincent, a knowing look in his eyes. "Return it to him for me, okay?"

Vincent looked down at the notebook. He reached out and picked it up carefully, as though he may tear the pages if he picked it up too fast.

"So?" Boss leaned back in his chair. "Why are you still here? Those pizzas aren't going to serve themselves, Bishop. Get to it!"

Vincent stood up, turning around and walking back out of the Office. He was hyperaware of the notebook in his hand. It would be inconsiderate of himself to look inside, but...

No. It's none of your business what the cheating prick scribbles in his spare time. It's probably full of sketches of that Mexican mutt.

Vincent suddenly remembered how Scott had reacted to the gift. He'd cradled it so carefully, seemed so touched even though it was just a plain old notebook. That beautiful, gentle smile he'd given him, his slightly crooked teeth showing.

Vincent realised he was smiling to himself and quickly wiped it off of his face. What the hell was wrong with him? Why on earth - after everything Scott had done to him - did Vincent... miss him so much?

He swallowed thickly, shaking off the feeling, the unsettling fluttering of his heart.

He managed to keep Scott and the notebook out of his thoughts for the rest of the day, getting on with his work instead. It wasn't hard, however, to notice how he was notably less crabby than he had been over the last few days, and how he didn't put down the little sketchbook. Not once.

After work was finished for the day, Vincent thought about it once more. Was it worth dropping off the book like Boss had asked? No. What was the point? He could imagine it now: Scott would open that door, and that Mexican slut would be standing behind him, an arm around his waist, those jeering green eyes full of mirth as if to say, 'he's mine, now, and you can't have him back~'.

Vincent growled at the mental image before he paused abruptly. Woah. Where'd all that jealousy come from? He couldn't be jealous of Scott anymore. He was never his in the first place.

An image of Scott making out with Oliver entered his mind unbidden, and he suddenly felt sick. There was no other way to see it. The idea of Scott kissing someone else - of, oh gawd, of sleeping with someone else - drove him crazy with jealousy.

Vincent rolled his eyes at himself. Ugh. He was acting like he was back in high-school all over again. Who the heck cared if Scott screwed some other guy? None of his business. He was acting as though Scott gave a damn about their splitting up, but he probably didn't. He had Mr. Hot-and-latino, anyway. No need for Vincent anymore. He was sure of it. In fact, if he looked in the sketchbook he was holding, he would probably find hundreds of sketches of that Mexican bastard.

Vincent looked down at the book in his hand. Sighing, he opened it to the first page. It was a message, drawn in huge bubble letters, saying, 'This drawing book was given to Scott Keegan Adams by his wonderful future boyfriend, Vincent.'

Vincent flicked the pages, choosing a random one to stop at. It was a sketch of Scott wearing a dress, with his hands over his heart and his eyes closed. On the bottom was written, 'He makes me feel like I can be myself. I'm enough for him, and that's all that matters.'

Vincent's heart thumped. While they'd been together, Scott had ended up wearing that nice blue dress around while Vincent was over at his house. He'd looked so handsome in it, and when Vincent had told him so, he'd just laughed, blushing awfully. 'You're too sweet,' he'd said.

Vincent flicked through to another page. This one was of himself. He had no shirt on, and his thumb digging into his pants, almost about to pull them off, biting his lip seductively. Scott had drawn a little drooling face next to the sketch, accompanied with, 'I don't think he noticed me watching him changing while I was drawing this. What? I needed a reference. So hot, I'm going to mellllllllt~'

Despite himself, Vincent chuckled. Scott really was an innocent little thing. He flicked to one last page, finding it not full of sketches, but Scott's super-neat, tiny cursive writing:

The corner of the page had been torn off from then onwards, and Vincent couldn't read the rest of the note.

He didn't need to.

(( Sorry hawkeyelover I was gonna put your amazing fanart on this originally but I forgot. I KNEW I WAS GONNA FORGET.

But anyway, everyone enjoy this because it's freaking beautiful and I love it to death thank you so much my friendo ))