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“There.” Lucca pointed to the upcoming door. “It should be quiet.”
He opened the door for me, but I stopped him from entering.
“I’ll be just a minute.” My eyes pleaded.
Taking one look at me, he nodded. But he didn’t move. Instead, he scanned the empty room. I, too, turned and faced a closed stall.
There was so much pink and gold that it was nearly impossible not to be perplexed by it. It was too busy and different from the earth and calming tones from the rest of this villa.
I lowered to the ground and glanced under the low opening. The stall was empty. Immediately I regretted doing so when a rush overwhelmed me. My hand shot out to Lucca’s chest to stabilize my body.
“Katia?”
God, how I hated the pity in his voice. I used all the strength I had left and pushed my hand deeper into his chest until there was enough space to close the door in his face.
“Katia!” his voice warned.
I locked the door, resting my forehead against it.
“It’s empty, Lucca. Please.”
The silence that followed wasn’t reassuring knowing Lucca would be insufferable if he didn't get his way, but I kept him out.
Get it together, Katia.
Taking deep breaths, I made my way to the gold sink. I let the cold water run and placed my hands beneath. A sigh of relief flew past my parted lips, and I raised my head to stare at my reflection.
My eyes had grown dopey with red lines coursing through them when they should’ve been a clear white. Cheeks filled with red, and swollen lips that couldn’t seem to close shut.
Migraines were a bitch.
It’d been years since I had one, but when they came, they completely shook me into a stupor. Usually caused by stress or too much stimulation, it was my mind’s way to shut down for peace, since it was the only time I would allow weakness to prevail.
But after a day thinking of the deaths, the threats, my father, Lucca’s honesty, and still trying to parade around a room filled with expensive chaos, my reeling mind had saidenough.
Breathing through the crawling anxiety, I splashed water onto my face, carefully avoiding my eyes, and melted with relief. Over and over, chilled water cooled my skin, and my breathing strengthened. As I bent against the counter, water dripped from my face, and I waited for it to dry on its own. For the droplets to continue their nurture. When the last drop clashed, I turned the faucet off, and looked up.
Motherfucker.
This couldn’t be happening.
A chuckle bounced out of my chest as I picked a paper towel from the counter and dried my hands without removing my eyes from the mirror. But the more I stared, the more it dawned on me, it was not vision.
I wasn’t alone.
“Not now, okay?” I whispered a warning.
The reflection hesitated as it didn’t expect my reply, or demeanor. And as he stalled, my eyes wandered over his attire.
Black leather gloves, black tuxedo, black eyes.
He was here for me. My warning wouldn’t change that.
But I was so tired, drained, and irritated. He couldn’t have picked a better timing.
With a loud groan and a deep breath, I tossed the used paper towel and faced him.
In the corner of my eye the stall door gently swung wide open. A mistake I wouldn’t commit again by not clearing the room thoroughly. Because there would be a next time. I wasn’t dying in a pink bathroom.
