DIANA
***
The silvery moonlight pierced through the slits of my eyes. The unforgiving brightness increased the throbbing of my temples.
Gradually, my eyes adjusted to the ethereal glow the moon bathed the dimly lit room in.
Before me, a floor-to-ceiling window revealed the city below— its lights producing a captivating mosaic.
As I shifted in the bed, the silkiness of the black sheets beneath me caressed my bare skin, a tender touch that nestled my vulnerability.
The large bed shared a space with a noir lounge chair and a golden floor lamp. A few candles scattered throughout the dimly lit room, creating an ambient glow. The black curtains were drawn from the windows revealing the breathtaking cityscape.
My brief panic faded, allowing me to rise. My bare feet met the coolness of wooden floors, and as the door creaked open, the soft melody of a jazz song escaped, unveiling notes of a grand piano.
Ascending the staircase, I surveyed the layout of the penthouse. My inspection ceased upon noticing a shirtless man at the piano bench—disheveled curls framed by a golden chain. The subtle flexing of his back echoed the skilled notes of the song resonating from the grand piano— Dante was the only person I knew who could play so well.
As I approached him, I couldn't help but notice his focus as he played. His thick eyebrows would furrow ever so slightly I stood there quietly, watching the movements of his hands and the expression on his face, mesmerized by the passion and skill he displayed.
Watching him play once again after years, a wave of emotions washed over me, bringing back memories of our past together. The sight brought soft and wistful laughter to my lips, releasing the concealed emotions that had been buried deep within me for so long.
As soon as I realized that I had unintentionally revealed my presence, my heart sank into the pit of my stomach. The sudden feeling of dread washed over me, leaving me feeling like a nervous wreck.
Dante, turning from the piano, his eyes briefly skimmed over my attire and back to my face with a look of recognition and relief in his unwavering warm eyes.
I crossed my arms, attempting to play it off.
"How'd you sleep?" The warmth of his husky voice evident with tiredness resonated profoundly within me, a comforting sound to my ears.
Once he rose from the bench, he placed his hands in his sweatpants pocket, causing my gaze to fall momentarily,
I cleared my throat, "Good," I managed, my nervousness evident in the unspoken questions lingering in my mind.
"What am I doing here?"
Leaning against the piano, his muscular arms crossed, "I'll tell you anything wanna know, care to sit?"
Dante began to explain, only pieces of the story returned to me as I chewed on my bottom lip.
I hummed in response.
Yet, I noticed Dante's gaze shift to the bruise on my cheek. The pounding of my heart quickened from the anticipation of an unspoken question and my stomach suddenly felt void of anything.
The moment his eyes met mine, I knew the question that was coming. His intense gaze had turned piercing and cold as if he was trying to read my thoughts. The silence in the room was thick and suffocating, making it even more difficult to answer. And then, it happened - the anticipated question sliced through the air like a sharp knife. "Was it him?" he asked, his voice low and steady.
My arms dropped to my lap, and my fingers fidgeted as the graphic memory replayed— A loop of denial and sorrow, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Diana, you can tell me." The seriousness laced in his voice incited a single tear that I quickly wiped away.
Deciding to avoid his question, I stood up and asked, "Where are my things? I need to leave." I began to distance myself from him.
Dante's hand gently grabbed mine, and pulled me close, a silent plea for the truth.
I couldn't look him in the eye, knowing that he knew the truth and I didn't want to accept it.
Finally, I met his intense gaze, and I whispered, "He did," after taking a shaky breath.