Adelina POV:
Sleep never arrives when I need it to. When I accept that I finally have to see the demon of my slumber instead of being whisked away by intoxication, sleep fails to arrive. Or it does come, but sporadic with hour and a half intervals. It was one of those nights where I was truly left alone and numb.
Where I am not able to fear a faceless monster nor feal the presence of the others. It's when the world feels unmoving, it's when time seems slowed.
It's a dangerous period of time where I lack care. I roamed around the house wishing I was scared, wishing I would find the motivation to be more sly. I was wishing it would have troubled me if I were to be caught. I wasn't, but I couldn't bother feeling relieved about that either.
I had a good day but things tend to come crashing down after that. There are no good days with happy endings for me. If I enjoy the day, the night will wreak havoc on me.
I never went back upstairs yesterday night. Every time my body needed a moment of rest I would find a couch somewhere nearby. I could sleep for no longer than thirty minutes at a time according to the clocks that seemed to be everywhere I turned.
I don't know if I was looking for something but I took my time observing the house.
I dragged my feet as I wandered down dark hallways. The walls all started to look the same, the twists and turns were practically impossible to see.
After leaving the kitchen, the first place I ended up was the art room. It's open to everyone meaning there isn't any clear intruction about who is allowed inside and not. However, it's unspoken that the room and it's contents belong to Raffaele.
Curiosity ate away at me for everything I didn't quite understand yet, so it's only fitting that my subconscious would have led me there first.
Stepping into the room felt serene in itself. Raffaele is calm and quiet in general and that room embodys him and his personality. The walls are plain white, something I hadn't acknowledged the first time I had been there, and a single canvas and easel stood in the middle of the room. Windows adorned the wall I was facing leaving way for the darkness to leak in.
It seemed I couldn't escape it.
As I turned my head to the side, it became easy to notice the multiple canvases that were leaning onto each other and the wall. I spotted strokes of blue peaking out from behind another painting and found it as my opportunity to catch more than a quick glimpse at the work I barely got to see.
I carefully shuffled it out from between another and focused the most I could, trying to see what I hadn't before. But I couldn't. Mountains and a sunset. Nothing more and nothing less.
I don't know how long I had worked my brain over it. I couldn't understand and that's what disturbed me. Eventually I had given up on that particular piece but refused to move on. The next one I pulled was one that depicted seven phases of the moon painted with either blue, pink or purple. I pulled out piece after piece and observed them each countless times with fail.
I figured if I took a step back maybe I would see. So that's exactly what I did. I stood up and took a couple steps back. It immediately became very clear and the understanding I was craving washed over me like a bucket of ice water.
It was an untimely reveal of a secret. Something I had no buisness knowing but I couldn't let go. From everything that's happened, secrets are nothing good. Secrets hurt me, and in this house they live in floors.
I frantically placed them back as I found them the best I could. They all had one thing in common. I suddenly understood the panic that was showcased so clearly in his eyes.
I left not long after. I sat on a sofa as thoughts swarmed my head. What I had found wasn't what troubled me, it was the way I found it. I realised I was looking for answers in the wrong place.
I rested on that sofa for a bit and ended up slipping into sleep. That time I slept for forty minutes before being woken up. The clock indicated around 3:20am and I knew I wasn't going back to sleep for awhile.
I found myself wandering the halls next. Going up several stairs, getting to the mainfloor, and going around several corners, I ended up in a narrow hallway.
On my left, the door opened to reveal a decently sized bathroom that I had been shown briefly on the tour. Further on, on my right, there was a laundry room. On the aforementioned tour Raffaele had simply pointed at the closed door to tell me what it was.
I had all the time in the world and so I took the time to look. I don't know what I was expecting, it was a laundry room. A nice one at that, but still just a laundry room.
As I turned to leave something caught my eye. I spun back on my heel quickly and approached the laundry basket halfway filled with clothes. My gaze zeros in on the side of the basket.
I saw small stains of red linger on it and as my gaze traveled downwards I saw small splatters littering the floors. I registered the familiar sight of dried blood.
Michael had trained me to recognise it.
I went through the basket and found a white dress shirt. There were spatters of blood across the chest and collar. I became very aware of what I was holding and hastily shoved it back into the bin.
I covered it with other clothes, more to cover my tracks rather than to cover the bloodied shirt.
It could have had a simple explanation but it was too odd of a spot for the blood to be situated. Firstly, they're spots and splatters instead of drips which means that the blood didn't belong to the owner of the shirt.
If it did belong to one of my brothers, there would have been more, a bigger stain and it would have had a different placement on the shirt since none of them have visible wounds. The stain wasn't new either, it had been sitting for quite awhile.
My previous suspicons had been more concrete after yesterday night. I thought I would wake up to resent not being able to feel a fear I should, but I was rather grateful I couldn't.
It's Sunday today meaning I didn't have to wake up early which I like. It wouldn't have changed anything either way, I can't sleep.
The first thing I do once waking is go for a shower. I gather some clothes and walk into the washroom without forgetting to lock both doors. The one for my room and bathroom.
I make it out around 11 o'clock and head downstairs to see who's awake. I take my time on the flight of stairs contemplating going back up or not.
I don't want to talk to them, that much is clear, but I know someone will drag me out of that room if I don't come out willingly. It's been that way for a little over a month now, almost a month and a half.
My face goes cold as soon as I step into the living room. Angelo and Francesco are the only ones there which I find strange since I usually see the twins or Raffaele first.
Evidently, the two were having a conversation not meant for my ears seeing as how fast they halt their speaking and turn to me. They both wish me a good morning and Angelo offers to make me something to eat.
I refuse while avoiding eye contact. I hate this question. Angelo shrugs his shoulders with a small look of defeat in his eyes and Francesco reaches over to grab the remote control for the tv. He switches the tv on while handing me the remote and telling me to put on whatever I would like.
I look at him hesitantly but take it out of his hands with a small nod. While browsing, I ask where everyone else is. This has become a routine of mine as of recently since I prefer knowing who I'm left being alone with and until when.
It's useful when you think about it. There's nothing that could be unexpected and I have a better idea on how to avoid everyone since I know their habits. I find out the twins are out for a sports practice and group project while Raffaele left earlier this morning with no specific details and Domenico is at work.
I nod, accepting their answers, and put on the first thing that looks interesting enough that I could find on Netflix. I cross my legs and sit back onto the couch making myself comfortable.
When the both of them continue their conversation but switch over to italien, I understand why Francesco gave me the remote. To occupy me like a fucking toddler. Not a problem, though, that won't hinder my comprehension.
I lower the volume a degree or two to better hear what it is that they're talking about without them noticing. I keep my focus on what is playing infront of me but strain my ears to hear their discussion.
"Comunque, l'altra sera le cose sono andate storte, non avevo scelta. Ho dovuto sbarazzarmene. Non c'era un'altra opzione." I hear Francesco quietly mutter. (Anyways, things went wrong the other night. I didn't have a choice. I had to get rid of them. There wasn't another option.)
"Sì ... ma Dom aveva bisogno di lui vivo. A che serve adesso?" Angelo bites back. (Yes... but Dom needed him alive. What good is he now?)
"à un rompicoglioni in meno, ecco quello che è." Francesco rolls his eyes. I guess it's a common trait in our blood. (He's one less pain in our ass is what he is.)
"Sei spericolato, devi controllarti." I have never heard this side of Angelo. (You're reckless, you've got to get a grip over yourself.)
"Everything alright?" I question, cocking my head to the side as to not seem completely oblivious to the rising tension.
"Perfectly fine, picolla" Angelo flashes me a warm smile before returning back to his more serious demeanor. "Non possiamo permetterci di coinvolgere i poliziotti. Sono stupidi, inutili e inutili. Non sono riusciti a scoprire chi è stato, quindi ora tocca a noi e non puoi rovinare tutto." he continues. (We can't afford to get the cops involved. They are stupid, no use and no help. They failed finding out who did it so now it's our turn and you can't fuck it up.)
Francesco clenches his jaw and looks away. Like a fire was lit under his ass, he takes off to work with a quick goodbye.
It's almost comical to see the older brother getting scolded by the younger. I could only assume Francesco killed someone he wasn't meant to. It's what it sounded like anyway.
Angelo leaves soon after and I actually start to pay attention to the show playing infront of me.
When the episode ends he bounds back into the room asking if I wanted to go out for lunch.
"No," I say flatly "I'm going to head back to my room now." I uncross my legs and motion to leave but he steps in my path.
"Let's go to lunch, sì?" his ask sounds more like a demand.
He isn't one to joke around with like Valentino, or one to match my tone like Valerio or even one that is fun to piss off like Francesco.
"I could have sworn I just said no," I raise my eyebrow.
"And I could have sworn I said let's go, tesoro" he replies and I smirk.
"Did you? Well in that case..." I trail off "I simply don't give a shit." I give a fake smile and attempt to leave once again but he blocks my passage.
I stare up at him and realize he won't let this go. No matter what I say or do. I could tell he is the most used to dealing with Valerio.
And so I end up at a quiet little restaurant with him. It's a nice burger place with not too many people inside. There has mostly been silence between us, even now as I study the menu.
I feel better eating outside of the house. It would feel perfectly fine if he weren't here but I take what I can get.
A waiter comes over to take our orders and leaves soon after. Now there is no menu to distract me so I search for something to keep my eyes trained on. I find a group of friends hanging around outside.
My heart lightly clenches at the sight and I shake my head deciding it's best if that doesn't become the subject of my attention.
"Everything ok?" Angelo's voice reaches my ears. I look up at him to see his full attention on me and roll my eyes.
"Yes," I answer shortly. He nods, not pushing the subject.
"How are you finding everything at the house?" he tries to start a conversation but I'm more distracted by the ulterior motive hidden in his words.
"It's a house, it has walls and I don't get cold."
He chuckles slightly at my dry comment.
"How are you settling in?"
"Fine?"
"Alright well how-"
"Oh my fucking god," I groan loudly " what is this, an interrogation?"
He shakes his head at me a small smile on his lips as if I amuse him.
"Just trying to see how you're doing." he says and I see nothing but truth in his eyes. It annoys me to no limit. I scoff in response.
"I just know that this must be really hard for you. The whole thing." he says with truth "We're all rough around the edges, but we've missed you more than you could imagine. I don't know if we're doing a good enough job of showing it so I guess that's what I'm trying to figure out. You've acted so strong throughout all this mess, and I have no doubt that you are, but Valentino wasn't lying when he said you're like Valerio. I don't know you anymore, so I can't tell if this is who you are or if this is who you think you need to be. Either way, you're not alone and I don't know if you've recognised that yet. We're here and it's important for you to know we always will be when you need us." There's a sympathetic and genuine smile on his face.
For the first time in a long time I'm speechless, and simply stare at him reiterating his small speech in my mind. Then, the waiter comes back over with our food and we both go back to the silence we started in.
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Hi lovelies!
how have you guys been?? holding up well I hope.
how did you find this chapter?
Comment your thoughts!
I've been thinking about doing a different pov somewhere in the next few chapters, would you like that? If so, who's should I do?
Thank you everyone for being patient with me and my late updates <3
See you all next week!
Bye loveliesssssssss