Honest

twenty-three

I lay on the bed alone. Tonight flashes through my mind.

I didn't mean to hurt him. I really didn't.

It's just...he reminded me of him.

I sigh, looking at the ceiling. I wonder if Giuseppe is treating him well.

My eyes strain in the darkness. I close them. I wanna wake up.

The door opens with a creak. Blood and smoke fill my lungs.

Sometimes I just wanna die. This is one of those times.

He sits on the bed. He's taking off his clothes.

"You could've told me," He whispered. "Half of the things I've done I wouldn't have if I knew-"

I shake my head, biting my lip.

"I don't understand what you want from me." I whisper softly.

He sighs, standing, discarding his shirt.

"Why aren't you scared of me?" He asks.

"Why don't you run from me?" I shoot back.

He snorts. "Why would I? Why didn't you tell me?"

"Why would I?" I repeat his words. He flops next to me on the bed.

We both stare at the ceiling.

"He looked like someone who hurt me a long time ago. But I shouldn't have killed him." I admit with a small smile.

He says nothing.

"I have a guilty mind you know," I continue softly. "I do things I do, because I feel like I-like I have no choice. Like I can't say no."

"Like I've given the devil my soul, incant take it back, y'know? So I'm always guilty. I have no redemption. No shame."

He sighs. "Shame is highly overrated, Desiree. It makes you weak."

I smile. "Why do you care for me, Vitale?"

He soft noise. "Because you deserve it. And I want you, you boss ass bitch."

I snort, closing my eyes again. I open my mouth, but shut it.

"What is it?" He says.

"You surprise me, Vitale. That's all."

He moves, extending his hand, letting it lay there face up. His fingers touch the tips of mine. I flinch.

"We all have days we want to fade away," He whispered. "We all have days we have to bury a friend."

I swallow, feeling the heat from his fingertips. My heart pounds.

"No, not everyone."

He pauses. "There's no one but us in this room. This is our universe right now. In this world, with just you and I-we're all that's here. Us and the dark. We all have days we have to bury s friend, little one."

My hand twitches, fingertips subconsciously reaching for his.

"Okay," I say softly.

I swallow roughly, do aware of how close out hands are.

I lick my lips, moving my hand. He moves his. Our fingers touch. My chest heaves. We both stare at the ceiling, in the dark, as our hands seek each other.

They inch toward each other. It's a foreboding trip. I lay my hand on his open one. It flinched back in the slightest, I flinch back slightly too, but that hand reaches out intertwining with mine.

I breathe out. Staring in the dark, I smile slightly. I did something very wrong today.

I didn't mean to. But...

This hand holding mine, makes it okay for now.

It makes everything okay.

• • •

I got the inspiration for this chapter from a song I've been listening to on repeat Bury a Friend by Billie Elish!