Ayla
After playing the first song, I couldn’t help myself, so I didn’t stop. Instead, I played another. One of my favorite songs, called I Won’t Give Up. I used to play that every day.
As the song flowed around me, I felt myself singing to the melody. My voice was a quiet whisper, soft even to my ears. My racing heart slowed to a soothing beat.
After so long, I felt at peace and strangely hopeful.
The piano had always been my escape. When life failed me, my piano never did. It always gave me the sanctuary I needed. It always brought me the peace I was desperate for. And I was grateful I could feel that way again.
The second song ended and I played another one, hoping Alessio wouldn’t tell me to stop. But when I didn’t hear him, I continued to play. This time I played A Thousand Years.
As my fingers flowed on the keys and the third song came to an end, I slowly opened my eyes, instantly meeting Alessio’s gaze. His stare was intense, unflinching, and he looked deep in thought, and maybe a little lost.
My hands were still resting on the piano as we stared at each other. The smile on my face dissipated as nervousness filled my body.
As long as I was playing, I didn’t care what happened around me. Nothing mattered. But now, looking at Alessio, his eyes as intense as always, I grew anxious.
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.
It seemed pathetic, but I just wanted to sleep. Without fear, without pain twisting my heart.
Quickly making up my mind, I stepped away from my room and walked toward Alessio’s. My steps were slow, yet determined.
When I saw no one, I opened the door and slid inside. The room was dark and I searched for a light switch.
As soon as I found it, I turned on the lights and the room was instantly illuminated. Without wasting time, I made my way to his closet, filled with tailored suits and dress shirts. Most of his suits were dark colors, a representation of him. I couldn’t imagine Alessio wearing anything but dark colors.
With my heart beating wildly, I took a black suit jacket off the hanger and held it to my chest. I placed the empty hanger at the back of the closet so he wouldn’t find it.
Bringing the jacket up, I buried my face in the soft fabric and inhaled. The same scent of cologne filled my nose. My tense muscles started to relax and I sighed.
I couldn’t explain it. How could Alessio bring me peace? Even though fear was a constant factor, he calmed my heart in a strange way.
I hurried out of his room and into mine.
With my gaze still fixated on what I was holding, I mindlessly made my way to my bed and slid under the soft comforter.
I brought the jacket next to my face on the pillow, holding it tight, as if scared someone would take it away from me.
My eyes started to close. A tired yawn escaped me and I settled deeper under the comforter.
The last thing I saw before falling asleep was Alessio’s suit jacket. As sleep took over my body and mind, I prayed that the painful memories wouldn’t come back.
***
The sun peeked in my bedroom window, lighting the room like a fiery halo. I lifted my head from the pillow, my black hair tumbling down my back like a waterfall.
It was morning already.
Alberto hadn’t visited my dreams. I closed my eyes yet again, the sun’s waking rays warming my body. I felt warm inside too. Full. Relieved. Maybe a little content.
Memories of the night before ran through my sleepy mind and I couldn’t help but smile.
Alessio had let me play the piano. My heart quickened at the thought and my smile widened. Alessio, even though he was cold and hard. Sometimes rude and mean. He could be sweet.
I turned around and saw his black suit jacket lying next to my face on my soft pillow. Bringing it close, I placed my head on it.
Because of this, I had a good sleep, a sleep without any of my past memories haunting me.
Maybe this was my key to stopping my nightmares. I looked at this jacket, my heart racing against my chest.
After giving it a final stare, I sat up in bed and folded the jacket and carefully placed it under my pillow.
“You are my secret,” I whispered, getting out of bed.
I quickly went through my morning routine. After taking a hot shower, I twisted my hair in a bun and then slid into my black dress. Tying the white apron around my waist, I looked at my reflection.
I looked different somehow. My cheeks were rosy and fuller. There weren’t any black circles under my eyes but instead, my green eyes were shining brightly. A small smile was playing across my lips.
It was weird. My father had died last night, yet I felt content.
Placing both my hands on the counter, I exhaled. Who knew? Living in the enemy’s house, I had found friends and a mother figure. I was happy here.
On my way toward the stairs, I passed the piano room. My steps faltered in front of it and I stared at the closed door.
Was Alessio still in there?
Curious, I stepped toward the door and slowly turned the knob. The door opened and I tensed.
I peeked inside and sucked in a shocked breath at the sight. Alessio was still sitting in the same spot, bloody and in the same dirty clothes. The first aid kit sat on the coffee table, untouched.
My heart twisted as I stepped inside, and my nose started to tingle. My vision blurred slightly with unshed tears. His head was resting against the back on the couch with his eyes closed.
His breathing was even, his chest moving slowly up and down. Alessio was asleep. I gazed at him as he slept.
I walked forward and stopped right in front of him. A few strands of his hair fell on his forehead, and before I could stop myself, I bent forward and softly brushed them away. Lines of tension creased on his forehead, showing that even in his sleep, he was riddled with pain.
But as I continued to stare at his sleepy face, I couldn’t help but think that he looked kinder. My gaze raked the length of his body. His black shirt was unbuttoned at the top, revealing a little of his muscled chest. The sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and I stopped at his hands.
They looked worse than the night before. Dried blood covered his swollen knuckles and fingers. I winced at the sight. I had a feeling he wouldn’t listen to me, but I still hoped.
I was tempted to clean his wounds for him, but I didn’t want to overstep my boundaries.
I didn’t want to anger him more, not when he was already going through so much.
I bit on my lips as I continued to step back, but with each step away from Alessio, my stomach sank deeper.
I stopped and stared at the broken man in front of me.
I couldn’t be this heartless, could I? I couldn’t leave him in this state when I could help instead.
Placing my hand over my beating heart, I chewed on my lips. I moved closer to him, slowly.
Keeping my eyes fixated on his sleeping form, I knelt down in front of him. Moving my eyes from his face, I stared at his bruised hands. I opened the first aid kit and removed the antiseptic wipes and some bandages. There was also a small hand towel folded under the bandages, so I took it out too. After placing them on the coffee table, I turned back to Alessio.
With my heart racing in my chest, I placed my shaking hand on his to see if he was awake.
He didn’t move.
I sighed in relief and then took his hand in mine.
I waited again.
He didn’t move.
I picked up an antiseptic wipe and gently cleaned his hands. I made sure my movements were soft and careful so I wouldn’t hurt him.
As the blood came off, I saw his knuckles were bruised, but not much. The blood made it look worse. His fingers were slightly swollen, but thankfully not broken.
After cleaning his left hand, I gently wrapped the bandage around his hand, making sure that it wasn’t too tight. After I was done, I leaned back and placed his hand on his thigh again.
I glanced up at Alessio, expecting him to still be asleep, but that wasn’t the case.
I sucked in a surprised breath when I saw his intense blue eyes focused on me.
I had been so lost in cleaning his injuries that I didn’t realize he was awake.
“Alessio,” I whispered.
His gaze raked over my face and then moved to his bandaged hand.
Both of us stared at it. Sweat formed at the back of my neck as nervousness filled me.
“I…I saw that you didn’t clean your hands,” I stuttered. Taking a deep breath, I quickly continued. “I thought that maybe I could clean them for you.”
I waited for him to answer but he didn’t.
“It could get infected. That’s why I cleaned it,” I said.
He still didn’t answer.
Oh no. I messed up. I really messed up.
I started fidgeting with the hem of my dress again. Looking at his other hand, I swallowed at the sight. It still needed to be cleaned.
Slowly shifting away, I said, “You should clean your other hand.”
His expression showed confusion as he kept staring at his bandaged hand. Letting out a sigh, I started to get up but his arms snaked out so fast it was a blur. His fingers wrapped around my wrist, and with a tug, he pulled me back down so that I was kneeling in front of him again. But this time, between his spread thighs.
He held my wrist with his bandaged hand. I tipped my head back to look in his eyes as he gazed down at me with indescribable emotions.
I saw him swallow hard and then he looked down. My eyebrows furrowed in confusion and I stared down too, only to find him pushing his other, still bloody hand toward me.
My eyes widened in realization and my heart flipped as my stomach twisted in knots. I looked back up, my eyes filled with questions, but Alessio didn’t answer. He just continued to stare at me silently. Expectantly.
He let my wrist go and I released a shaky breath. With my heart pounding vigorously against my ribcage, I took his hand in mine.
His head was cocked to the side as he stared at me. I forgot how dark he was, how sinister and how huge he was. As I kneeled between his thighs, I felt his forceful and dangerous energy around me.
Looking down at his hand again, I got to work.
No words were spoken.
There was only silence between us.
But even through the silence, it felt comforting.
I cleaned his wounds just as carefully and gently as before, and then bandaged his right hand too. All the time, I was aware of his eyes on me. I could feel his gaze on my skin. And I grew warmer from it.
When I was done, my eyes stayed on his hand which was still in mine. Alessio didn’t pull away either.
Unconsciously, I found that I was rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. When I realized what I was doing, I quickly let his hand go. It fell back onto his lap.
I looked up and our eyes met again.
Blue to green. Both unflinching.
We stared.
We breathed. Together.
When I couldn’t hold his eyes any longer, I looked down.
A few seconds later, before I could move, I felt a tug behind my head and then my hair was falling down my shoulders in waves.
And I saw my hair band in Alessio’s hand.
I looked up at him in surprise, and his piercing eyes stared back.
Then he spoke. And his words went straight to my heart. My breathing stuttered.
“You look more beautiful with your hair down,” he said, his voice gruff from sleep.