Madness

Chapter 18

~ When I saw you in that dress, looking so beautiful
I don't deserve this
Darling, you look perfect tonight ~

A few days went by that I spent studying, rarely leaving my room. Occasionally Steph would come over to talk. I was very reserved, I admit it, but I couldn't help it. I think more than being angry with him, I was angry with myself, with my naivety. I could have left at any time I wanted to, even though those few days had turned into more than a month, but I just didn't feel like leaving. It was as if the intensity of the force that was forcing me to leave was equal to the force that was forcing me to stay. One morning I awoke to sunlight blocked by someone who had settled right outside the window, now watching the hilly landscape. I sat up sleepily and saw the perfect profile of the dark-haired boy with his icy gaze fixed on the horizon.

"Finally, you are awake."

"What are you doing here?"

"Margaret said you hadn't been out for a while. It's usually my prerogative to stay holed up in my room."

I saw him turn around. I was pleased to see that the bruises were healing and the wounds were beginning to scar. He made his way around the room, studying the few items I had added to the furniture. He circled the bed like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. His movements were so agonizingly slow that they resembled those of a lion prowling its territory. I brought my knees to my chest and rested my arms as he picked up an old photograph I had brought with me. It was of me and my father when he had taken me on a trip to Rome.

"So what? Why didn't you come out of your room?"

"I didn't feel like it. Is that all you came for?"

"I was actually waiting for you to come to the philosophy class, but you didn't show up."

"I don't need it anymore."

"But really? Because until a few days ago, you were hopeless."

"That's not true!"

I said with a hint of amusement. He didn't take his eyes off the picture.

"Is he your father?"

"Yes, I was 10 years old there. It was the first time he took me to Rome."

"You look like him, you have the same eyes."

I smiled as I remembered all the moments I had spent with him. I felt a lump in my throat as I remembered the day of his funeral, my brother holding my hand and me looking at the cold coffin, saying goodbye to my father for the journey I had been told he was about to take. I remembered what the priest said, the water soaking the wood, my mother hugging my grandmother as she cried desperately, Edward wiping his tears with his sleeve. I remembered everything about that day. But most of all, I remembered that I had not cried. My promise to my father was that I would be strong, and that was what I did that day.

"I think your father is a very nice guy."

"Yes, he was."

He turned his head to look at me. His eyebrows raised in genuine surprise at my statement.

"I'm sorry."

"Thank you."

He came closer, revealing his full height. He gave me a reassuring look.

"How did this occur?"

"A beam fell on him, he died instantly."

<<Where were you here? At the Colosseum?

"Yes, we took a tour. We saw the Pantheon and the Villa Borghese. It was one of the best days of my life. We should have gone to Genoa one day, he wanted to take me to the aquarium, but... he couldn't."