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But though his stares were intense, they were warm. Something I never saw in him before.
When he didn’t move or say anything, I cleared my throat. At the sudden sound, his eyes widened and he looked away. He raked his bloody fingers through his hair.
I winced at the sight and got up and stood in front of the piano. From that position, Alessio wasn’t far from me, only a few feet away.
I could see his bruised face clearly and winced again. His cheeks were red and quickly turning into a slight purple shade. There was a cut on his eyebrow and dried blood covered his lips.
“You can leave,” Alessio said in a hard voice. Flinching at his sudden change of tone, I took a step back and hit the piano. My hands played with the hem of my dress in nervousness.
He was doing it again. From warm to cold in seconds.
“You should clean your wounds so they don’t get infected,” I said. Keeping my eyes on him, I watched for his reaction.
He didn’t give me any. Instead he glared at the wall to his side, his jaw locked tight together.
My heart started to gallop again as worry filled me. Maybe I had overstepped my limits. I shouldn’t have played the piano. I shouldn’t have even been there.
As I continued to fidget with my dress, I bit on my lips as my hands grew colder.
“I said leave!” Alessio growled.
My eyes widened and I scurried away from the piano. At the door, my steps faltered and I slowly looked over my shoulder. He had the brown glass bottle in his hand and he was staring at it, his other fist clenched tight. Shoulders heavy in defeat, I walked out of the room.
I knew he wasn’t going to clean his wounds. Alessio was too lost in his pain, and I understood his feelings. His pain made my heart ache because I knew what it felt like to be hopeless.
Making my way to my room, I got inside and turned on the lights. I quickly rummaged through my drawer and found the first aid kit. Holding it close my chest, I let out another sigh.
I was a little apprehensive to go back there. But maybe if the first aid kit was in front of him, he would clean his wounds. Without a second thought, I closed the drawer and quickly walked out of my room and made my way back.
The door was partially closed, exactly how I left it. I found myself chewing on my nails, but forced myself to put my hand down. After a few seconds of standing outside, shuffling from one foot to the other, I pushed the door open.
Peeking inside, I saw Alessio still sitting in the same spot. This time his head was resting on the back on the plush couch and his eyes were closed. He was still holding the bottle on his thigh, but it was empty. It had been half-full when I left.
My heart twisted at the thought of him drinking himself to oblivion.
I walked in and his eyes snapped open, annoyance and frustration clearly written on his face as he stared at the ceiling, refusing to look at me.
With shaky hands, I placed the first aid kit on the coffee table and then buried my hands in my skirt to hide the nervousness brewing inside of me.
His gaze moved toward the coffee table and then he closed them, silently dismissing my presence.
Time for me to leave, I thought, staring at Alessio’s emotionless face. Even though he was in pain, he didn’t show it.
To a man like him, feelings meant weakness. And there was no weakness in this life. Our weaknesses would only get us killed.
“Please clean your wounds,” I begged softly. After sparing him another glance, I walked away.
Closing the door behind me, I leaned against it and closed my eyes. After the moments I had with Alessio, no matter how awkward and weird it was, I didn’t want to go back to my room alone.
I also was scared of the nightmares. I was scared of the memories that would come to haunt me as soon as I would close my eyes. Alberto’s face haunted me.
I had just a few moments filled with serenity and now I was petrified of feeling the all-encompassing pain that blinded me.
Dread filled me as I approached my room.
I closed my eyes and willed myself to open the door. I just wished that I could sleep peacefully without memories haunting me.
Just as the thought went through my head, my eyes snapped open as I remembered the scene in my room a few nights ago.
I did have a peaceful sleep.
Alessio’s jacket.
It kept the nightmares away.
With wide eyes, my head swiveled to the left in the direction of Alessio’s room. The one right next to the piano room. Maybe, just maybe, if I had his jacket with me, I could sleep again.
