(Still before Azalea's previous POV)
THIRD PERSON POV:
SILENCE SUFFOCATED the suddenly cramped space they stayed in. Everything was silent. An eerie, taunting silence. One that dared someone to say something.
No one does.
Giovanni opens his mouth, trying to utter a word. Nothing comes out.
For once, they were speechless.
Nobody had anticipated anything even close to what the nurse had just said. It was all so sudden, unexpected.
With given time, they still wouldn't have been able to prepare themselves for such news.
Everyone had different emotions and different ways of dealing with this.
Giovanni's jaw was tense, his nails dug into his palm. He remained extremely tense in his seat. He was angry, but he suppressed it. Out of everyone, he was meant to be the most logical. As of right now, he wanted nothing more than to snap the nurses neck, tell her it's not true. He needed reassurance that he did not get. Something told him it was true, his guts. They were never one to fail the Italian Don.
Deep breaths were heard from Elijah. He was the mother hen of the small bundle, one that'd keep everyone calm and operating. Though, he was having a hard time keeping calm himself. The words came like a stab to the chest. He'd failed to protect his splendido angelo, now he could not help but feel like he had failed her, failed his mother, father even.
A sob echoed out through the melancholy halls. Then many more to come. Elliott was crying. He was protected from the Mafia world. In fact, he was almost just as clueless as Azalea when it came to their brothers. They were always closed out, refusing to tell Elliott anything. At first, he felt left out, alone, but eventually, he'd gotten used to it. But recently, Azalea and Elliott had gotten to know each other well.
And so when he was informed of the severity of the situation, he cried. He sobbed. He was never one to take violence well, nor did he like blood. But he knew he'd cover himself head to toe with blood if it meant Azalea would be fine. Steps from Elliott's running could be hears fading away. His sobs became more distant, such a pure soul.
No one ran after him. They were all in their own worlds.
Aidan sat in his seat, body rigid. He was frozen. His breath slowed down magnificently. The information came spurring at him. He never had time to dodge. Normally, he'd use hacking to fix things. It was an efficient way of escaping the trouble fate brought down on you for him. But this time, he couldn't just escape. He was helpless. He could only do so little, and he hated it. Like all the rest, he'd failed to protect his little angelo.
Nicholas gripped his dagger in his hand tightly. He hid it from the nurse, though, just barely. One look his way, and it'd easily be noticed. He desperately needed blood on his hands, or he may just lose it. His blue orbs glistened with an overwhelming need for violence and blood. It was his escape. Hearing other people's dreadful screams satisfied him. Music to his ears. They'd drown the things that were bugging him. And for a while, he'd forget. Forget everything. Once, it was snorting drugs and downing alcohol, but he'd moved on a while ago. But you know what they say, once an addict, always an addict.
The nurse waited impatiently for a response but never got one.
"You all are such sickos, and you'll get your rightful punishment in time. That's a promise."
"I-" Elijah stutters. He stutters.
Chaos has struck.
GIOVANNI'S POV:
"We didn't-"
"You'll learn your lesson, soon." The nurse warns, walking away without another word. The simple words ring through my head. I'm almost certain that those words have a deeper meaning.
My breath hitches, I'm not breathing properly.
My fists are bleeding from when I punched the wall, I don't bother to try bandage them. My nails are so deeply dug into them. I can't feel the pain though; I haven't been able to feel pain in a while, until now. My body is so rigid, unmoving.
"Giovanni?" A calm voice whispers.
I close my eyes and take a deep breath.
"Just breath."
Elijah lightly puts his hand on my shoulder.
Just like before, I take steady, slow breaths, in attempt to regulate it.
I keep silent.
My nails dig further into my palms.
I'm perfectly fucking calm.
The familiar sounds of heels approach us again, but another set of footsteps follow.
Whispering goes on for a few seconds before they decide to speak.
"This.. Is the psycho and it's family." Her tone is laced with blank disgust.
Do we seriously look like abusers? Or is she just fucking stupid. We were practically trained to protect our principessa, we wouldn't hurt her. We all promised our ma that we'd protect her till the day we die.
My hand itches for my gun. I crave for bloodbath right now. My blood boils.
"Let us fucking see her," I snap, lowly.
She shivers slightly.
"No―"
"We do have to let them see her, legally. There is no proof of physical or mental abuse as of now.." The male doctor reasons with her. Logical, reasonable. Interesting..
"Yeah but―"
The male doctor gives her a warning glare, causing her to back down.
I might just personally decapitate her.
Once again, they start whispering.
Nicholas slightly leans towards me. "Can we.. maybe just, sedate her? For fun.. and cause she's really annoying," I look back at him, my face void of any emotion, but I'm considering it.
"Do I look like someone who carries drugs or anesthesia with me?" I deadpan quietly.
"You're a part- no, you rule the most well constructed mafia in the underground.. in charge of many countries, is engaged in a lot of illegal work, is involved in illegal drug trafficking.. so, I don't know, maybe?" He whispers back, calmly.
I glare at him. He shrinks slightly.
"Ugh! Fine, come with me," she groans, rolling her eyes.
༄ ✯ ༄
THIRD PERSON POV:
Silence filled the room to the brim.
This time, it had not only felt sufforcating; it was. Everyone's breaths were ragged. It suddenly felt hard to breath.
Azalea's unconscious body lays on the mattress, unmoving. A white hospital gown covers her frail torso, but you could see how skinny her arms are. Bones slightly stick out, her skin pale white.
The 3 boys stared agape.
A tube was shoved down her throat, fluids running through it.
Scars and faint bruises were scattered all over exposed arms and legs. Most of her deeper scars left a more prominent scarring.
For the first time in a while, Giovanni had showed emotion.
Everyone was drowning in their guilt, anger, sadness..
Their heart ached for the unconscious 15-year-old that laid on a hospital bed.
One that could easily be her death bed.
He is a dead man.
Literally.. but I will dig out his grave and drag his ass from hell and give him real hell here. Fuck it, I'll even offer some torture to Azalea.
I crave violence. I need a bloodbath.
"Giovanni, let's-"
My eyes bulge out of their sockets.
I instantly stop looking at him.
It's like.. an illegal sight to see― I wasn't supposed to see that.
I'm fucking scarred.
Even so, I can't help but glance at him once more, hell, I'd take my phobe and start recording.
But this is serious.
For the first time in 12 long, dreadful years, he showed emotion. THE Giovanni Laurier, Don of the Italian Mafia..
And it's anger.
Pain and anger. And much more. Only for a split second.
An overwhelming mixture emotions.
"G-Giovanni.." I stutter.
I'm fucking terrified, I'm never terrified.
He's never angry - if he is, it's normally fuckin' bad.
"Nicholas, Elijah, look after them. Call me when she's awake," He abruptly annouces, anger lacing his tone.
I'm concerned.
I'm about to say something but Elijah reads my mind.
"Where are you goin-"
"I'll be back in a few days, don't worry about business, I'll sort it out," His expression stays emotionless but anger seeps through his façade slightly.
He leaves without another word, slamming the door behind him, leaving me and Elijah in utter confusion and silence.
"What the fuck just happened?" I whisper, eyes wide.
It's been a long while since he'd exploded like this. Last time, he killed 124 people or something that'd been on his.. hitlist for a while.
"I.. have no idea."
AZALEA'S POV:
Darkness surrounds me.
I'm engulfed by darkness, suffocated by darkness.
I hear faint voices, but they mostly sound like distant murmurs.
I don't know what this is. Am I dreaming? Or is this all a massive nightmare. Maybe I'm finally getting the torture I deserve. For killing Mary.
Am I.. dead?
I hate having so many questions.
I always do.
I hate a lot of stuff.
I hate this.
I've fucking lost it.
But I think I've finally figured out where I am.
I'm in my mind. A bit like a.. lucid dream, but, I can't control what happens in this dream. And it's more of a nightmare than a dream.
I can only do so little, and wait till I regain consciousness.
I'm still shaken up from that.. nightmare I had before. The blood on my hands― Marys death.. It all replays in my mind. It seems like I'm trying to solve a puzzle piece, and thats a piece, but I'm missing many more. Like, this is only the beginning of my journey.
But how much worse can it get?
My mind drifts off to Mary. I haven't thought of her last words in a while.
In fact, I don't think I ever thought about that note before Stefano.. 'died'.
Still don't believe he did by the way, I'm certain he's watching me, it always feels like he is.
But being trapped in here for.. what feels like years, I've gotten it figured out.
I know what I'm going to do.
I just wish i had given myself more time to think it through.
༄ ✯ ༄
I stir awake, blinking my eyes open slowly. They immediately squeeze back having not adjusted to the light properly.
I squint, looking around the room. I see 2 figures, 1 relaxed and the other pacing.
Thank God.
"Water―," I manage to croak out.
The man I recognize as Elijah snaps up and gasps, the boy behind him following his actions. It sounded almost.. mocking.
'Lijah quickly grabs a cup out of nowhere, the boy snatching it from him and shoving it down my throat harshly.
Oh.. Nicholas.
I choke intensely, quickly sitting up and punching my throat.
Lijah lets out a high-pitch shriek and Nich speedily puts his hands up in surrender, shattering the glass cup. I flinch at the impact, finishing off my choking session.
"OhmyGod, was that attempted murder?" I choke out, regaining my breath.
A.. tube?
"What the.."
"Fuck― I'm sorry Azzy!" He frowns.
"Oh.. you can show emotion too? What's going on right now.." I mumble, earning a chuckle from Elijah.
I grin and open my arms wide. He walks up to me and scoops me up, avoiding contact with the tube that's shoved down my throat.
He kisses my forehead, smiling.
"Are you okay, principessa?"
I beam. "Yes, thank you. Why do I have a tube down my throat?"
Tension fills the room instantly.
"Azalea.. Why had you not eaten for.. 4 days?" Nicholas almost whispers.
My mouth clams shut.
Then I take in my surroundings.
This isn't the Lauriers' big fancy mansion with loads of tones of grey.
No, it's not.
The room is cramped, white wallpaper everywhere.
The floor is a shiny marble material, and it looks gorgeous.
My breath hitches.
I look down.
A cold breeze glides from the window, hitting my exposed legs and arms.
The wind whirls arouns my scars.
The ones on display.
I suddenly forget how breathing works.
I'm in a hospital gown, in a Hospital.
I'm fine, I'm fucking fine.
༄ ✯ ༄
Whoosh!
Sorry it was uploaded so late, I just didn't have time. School is really annoyingg!
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter!
Until next time,
-Violet.