ME AND HIM ✔️

Pt.16

"Do you have anything I can drink with these." I ask, motioning to the medicine.

"What would you like?" Ugh, his accent, I just can't get enough of it.

I shrug my shoulders. "Water's fine." 

He nods his head before pressing a button on the side of his chair. He starts speaking out loud, "Daniella, portami un'acqua e una ciotola di fragole." He turns his attention back to me, "Are you tired?" He asks.

"No." I really need to get this lying under control. One day, I swear I'm gonna wake up with a nose longer than a giraffes neck. Did that make sense?

"You don't have to lie to me, Tesoro."  I'm assuming he's watching me as I struggle to keep my eyelids open.

"I'm not." I mutter, looking away from him.

He lets out a deep chuckle, "Okay." He says.

"Ecco a lei signore." A woman with brown skin and long curly hair says approaching us. She's wearing a black pencil skirt, and a white button up that's tucked in.

She places a bowl of strawberries, and water on the table in front of us.

"È tutto signore?" I have no idea what they're saying, but I'm just gonna roll with it.

"Stiamo bene." When Nadine speaks Italian, it seems as if his accent disappears. I mean- when my dad speaks Spanish, his does too. I guess it makes sense, huh?

"Here." he hands me two pills and the glass of water.

"How did you know I'm only supposed to take two?" I ask looking at him, waiting for an answer.

He shrugs. "I guess I'm a mind reader." I let out a small laugh and smirks. "And it also says on the bottle, only take two per six hours." He shakes the bottle around.

"Thank you." I say. And it's not a fake thank you, that you tell your teacher when she gives you back your assignment that you know you got a bad grade on. But it's a genuine thank you.

He shrugs. "It's no trouble, Tesoro."

"Sooooo." I say, not knowing what else to do.

"Sooooo." Nadine says back, copying me.

 I let out a soft laugh. My face falls, I want to ask him questions, learn about him. But I don't know how he'll act. I want to learn about him? Jesus- that's the weirdest thing I've said today.

Go for it.

No.

Yes.

No.

God, Rue! Stop being a pussy and just do it. No harm in trying.

Actually, I could end up getting very badly hurt. Just watch, he's gonna pull a gun out of god knows where, and shoot me on spot.

You're crazy.

No, I'm sensible.

Girl, if you don't pull your big girl bridges up and go on with your life-

Jesus- fuck, fine, don't say I didn't tell you so.

"Soooo, uhm." I try to find the right words. "Do you miss them?" I ask. Let's start off slow, ease into it until I know every detail about his life.

He looks away from the window, and back at me. "Fuck no." He answer. I widen my eyes in surprise, but then ease out once I remember all the scars on his back, "Do you miss them?" He asks.

I look away from him and down at my fingers, "I miss my mom." I answer truthfully.

"And your dad?" He asks, a curious expression painted on his gorgeous face.

"My dad? No. I could never miss someone like him." There goes another lie. Even after everything he did to me and my brother, he's still my dad. A bad dad, but nonetheless, still my dad.

He scans my face. He probably knows I'm lying, but I'm guessing he's not gonna say anything.

"Why don't you miss him?" He asks, filling the silence. 

God dammit, I'm supposed to be asking questions.

I look over at him, "Why don't you miss them."

He laughs, "I asked you first,"

"And I'm asking you now." I say. 

He glares at me before giving up. "Why would I miss someone like them? All they've done is hurt me." He looks out the window and sighs. "If I tell you my "life" story-" He makes quotations with his fingers. "Will you promise not to say anything?" He looks over to me, his head tired to the side and an eyebrow lifted.

Without hesitation, I nod my head up and down. 

"You're sure?" he asks, his voice seeming playful, but cold all at once. I nod my head again and hold out my pinky.

"I pinky swear." I cover my mouth with my hand, and try to muffle a laugh. He throws his head back and groans. But when he sits up straight, and wraps his pinky around mine, I feel my laughter stop.

"You saw the scars on my back at the river, yes?" He asks, my pinky still holding on to his. I nod my head, not wanting to speak. "Do you know what they're from?" He releases my pinky, and folds his hands in his lap. 

"No."

He tilts his head to the side and stares at me, staring as if he' s studying. "My dad used to beat me every time I did something wrong." I feel a lump form in my throat, but I somehow manage to cover it up. "My mom would stand aside and watch. Sometimes when he would ask her to fetch the knives, she would willingly do it. I guess it depended on how mad she was at me, that day.

"And so every time he slid the knife across my skin, or whipped the belt at my back. I never cried. And he was proud of that. He said he invented the perfect man. And I used to believe him. I used to believe that I was perfect. I would kill and kill and kill. All for him. And when I woke up the next day... I would do it again."

I feel tears form in my eyes, but I push them back down. "When I started dating this girl from my combat class, my dad was pissed." He laughs, but it fades. "He pulled me aside and brought a knife to my throat. He said that I was being weak. That I can't make the same mistakes he did."

"What were those?" I ask. He looks over at me and stares into my eyes, not looking away.

"Fall in love. He didn't want me to fall in love. And the funny thing, was that I never was. I didn't love her. She didn't love me. That's why we were perfect. We didn't want love, we wanted sex. All we did was slap a title on it."

I want to say something else, but he doesn't let me get the chance.

"You need sleep." He whispers, "Good night, Tesoro." 

I'll finish asking asking questions another time, I guess.

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-Brooke ♥️