4Vanya had a secret. It was something she'd kept to herself for years and she had planned on taking it to her grave. No, it wasn't some nefarious scandal; It wasn't some weird fetish nor was she in the closet. It was rather boring, as far as secrets go, which was fine with her. It was fitting, really- a boring secret for an equally boring person.
Her secret? Vanya loved to cuddle.
Whether it be her blankets, a pillow, or an actual person. (Although she could count on one hand how many people she cuddled with and still have fingers left over.)
It wasn't the juiciest of secrets, certainly nothing to gossip over, but it was hers.
And it would have remained at the back of her mind in a little box labeled 'miscellaneous facts about me' if she had chosen to stay at the Academy.
But Vanya didn't and had left in a flurry of conflicting emotions- relief, insecurity, joy, resentment, fear, hope.
Vanya couldn't remember the last time she'd had a good night's rest. When she did manage to sleep she always awoke tired, no matter if she had slept for two or even ten hours- it was always the same result.
Vanya had spent her the first three years away from her family tossing and turning and pacing so much to the point that her downstairs neighbors had put in a complaint with the management. Under the threat of eviction, Vanya had resorted to more healthy, quiet coping mechanisms such as reading, cleaning, drinking tea, or polishing her violin. Anything to keep her hands and mind busy because the minute they began to idle there was no amount of medication that could numb the pain her thoughts brought forth.
Thoughts of how utterly alone she was.
You'd think after all of these years she'd be used to it- the solitude.
But Vanya doesn't like to let the fact that's she's lonely drag her down (well more than it already does, that is), it's just at night it becomes painfully obvious how lonely she is. There's no cashier to blandly wish her a good day, no neighbors to make awkward small-talk with, no co-workers for her to chat about music with- no one.
It was just her and her sad, little empty apartment. A perfect mirror image of herself, if she does say so.
Vanya hates it.
At least when she'd lived in the academy there was always somebody there. Some type of noise. Whether it be Klaus' maniacal laughter, Luther and Diego hashing it out, or Grace humming as goes about her chores.
Sometimes she misses it. And other times she loathes it, that she should miss it when she'd waited so long to free of that place, of her father's hold on her. She doesn't want to miss it but she does, she can't help it.
Once she'd left the mansion it was just her and her alone against the world. No mom, no siblings, no Pogo, certainly not her dad- nobody. And the world was a capricious bitch, determined to point out how pathetically alone she was at every turn.
Vanya hadn't had a good night's rest since moving out. And when she did manage to sleep she always awoke tired, no matter if she had slept for two or even ten hours; it was always the same result- tired tired tired tiredtired whycan'tIsleep?
And so it was after yet another restless night that Vanya had discovered a second layer to her secret.
Sometimes when she couldn't sleep and she'd run out of things to do, Vanya would start up a fire. (No she wasn't some pyromaniac like Klaus somebody.) Sitting there in front of the warmth of the fire had always worked to soothe her like a good cup of tea or her music.
It was one night, after another crappy day, that Vanya had fallen asleep. Cocooned in the fire's warmth Vanya closed her eyes, comforted by the heat because just for a moment she didn't quite feel so alone anymore.
And so Vanya made a habit of it.
She pushed her couch as close as to the fireplace as she could without the ratty thing catching on fire, cuddling deep into her plushiest pillow with a sigh. Now it was the only way she could fall asleep now without some type of medication.
If Vanya closed her eyes and tried her hardest, she could pretend that it wasn't her fireplace but an actual, real live person next to her. The heat chasing away the chill that had enveloped her heart. It was nice. Even if it wasn't real. But dreams and secrets are funny like that aren't they?