Octavia
“Here. This will help with the pain,” Valerio said, placing two white pills on the bedside table.
He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking me over for what felt like the hundredth time.
“I don’t need them. The pain is good,” I told him.
Valerio took the glass of water from his hand and placed it in one of mine, then set the pills in my other palm. “Take them,” he ordered.
Why do I suddenly mind his orders less? It had been the same in the dining room.
“I don’t need them,” I repeated, attempting to set the glass and pills aside. He stopped me and met my eyes with his serious yellow ones.
“It wasn’t a suggestion,” he said firmly.
I sighed. If I hadn’t been in so much pain, I might have resisted more. I put the pills in my mouth and drank the water, swallowing them easily.
