Vincent's Babysitter

The next day she was called downstairs to have breakfast with him. Her eyes caught him seated in his usual chair as soon as she stepped through the door. Even though years had passed he was still the same- brooding, distant and mysterious. She clearly remembered their first meeting. He hadn’t even cracked a smile, not even as courtsey when her dad had introduced them. His gaze had been as piercing and cold as the sharp edge of blade. His eyes lacked the warmth and spirit she had seen in boys of her age. It had felt like he was there to fix a deal. She had never seen a man more serious. Even her dad appeared jovial in comparison to him. She knew they were a mismatch right from the beginning.

“Good Morning,” she greeted with a warm, friendly smile. He glanced up at her, muttering a quiet “morning” before his eyes returned to his plate. She pulled a chair and sat down in it.

She took a slice of bread and began buttering it with a knife.

“You said you are looking for a job. Any success ye