16. Sisi
16
SISI
" S isi, you don't look too well," Lina mentions when she sees me at breakfast. I give her a tight smile, even though I know I must have pretty bad dark circles, since for the last week I've been sneaking out almost daily to see Vlad. I don't even remember when I last had a full night's sleep.
Still, I wouldn't trade the time spent with Vlad for sleep, not when everything about him is so... fascinating.
True to his word, he's shown me around the city and taken me wherever I wanted. But we spend most of our time at his house, where we talk about everything and nothing.
What I've found about him has just confirmed my first impression. Loneliness clings to him like a second skin, and I can tell that even the small things I do surprise him. It's like he expects me to bolt at any point.
"Are you afraid yet?" he'd ask, almost jokingly, but I can see the truth in his eyes. He's afraid that he's going to do something and scare me.
He's afraid I'm going to leave him.
Frankly, the more I see how his life looks, the more I feel sorry for him. He barely talks to people outside of his right hand, Maxim. Even with him, he exchanges a few sentences here and there, mostly via text. The rest of the time? He might be planning his revenge or world domination, but he's doing it all by himself.
With his bare room, or the fact that his entire home is underground, it's hard not to feel sad for his bleak existence.
But I can see why. He's not... normal. Hell, he's probably the definition of unhinged. Even knowing that, I can't stay away though. He's just... him.
And in a wicked way, we complement each other. He feeds my need for destruction and I feed his need for sanity.
God!
I fan myself as I find my thoughts heading into R-rated territory. He hasn't kissed me again or asked for me to kiss him, even though it's all I can think about sometimes when I'm near him.
The sensations he'd wrought from my body had been simply otherworldly. There's no other way to describe the way my body had opened up for him, showing me it was capable of great pleasure instead of pain.
Ah, and his kiss... The fact that he's never kissed another woman before had delighted me beyond measure. For the first time, I felt that something was truly mine. No one had been that close to him, and no one will if I have anything to say about it.
Because one week's been enough for me to decide something.
I'm going to keep him—dysfunctional personality included.
He hadn't mentioned the bathroom incident and I hadn't probed. Seeing him so lost, so full of suffering, had done something to my heart. I'd wanted nothing more than to hug him and take away all of his hurt.
"You aren't hungry?" I'm brought down to earth by Lina's voice—again. I've been so absent-minded lately, mostly because all my thoughts revolve around one man—and his wicked lips.
"Oh, sorry, just woolgathering." I smile, helping myself to the food on the table.
My brother and Lina had decided to hire a governess for Claudia, Venezia and me, saying that we would all benefit from having a more formal education. We've already started lessons, but I don't think I need it that much. After all, I have all the information I need at the tips of my fingers.
Vlad had been extremely helpful in showing me how to operate a computer and navigate the internet. Since then, my time is mostly split between him and my laptop. There's just so much to read on, so many things that are part of normal life but had not been accessible during my time at Sacre Coeur.
And he's been more than willing to slowly walk me through everything.
"I know it's hard to get used to life outside Sacre Coeur..." Lina starts, her hand reaching for mine. "I'm having a hard time too, but I wasn't there since birth. For you it's all you've ever known." She takes a deep breath. "Please let me know if there's anything I can do to help. I don't like seeing you so closed off."
"I'm fine, Lina. Seriously. It's just a lot to take in, but I'm getting there." I give her a reassuring smile.
Marcello is watching the interaction between the two of us, his eyes fixed on me.
"Assisi, please see me in my office after breakfast," he says, pinning me with his gaze for a moment before turning back to his food.
I frown, since Marcello hadn't tried to talk to me until now. Even Lina seems a bit worried, but she squeezes my hand in comfort.
Claudia and Venezia are engaged in playful banter, and suddenly the house seems a bit more like... home.
But for as much as I'd like to believe that, I can't. The more I look around, the more I feel like an outsider.
My place hadn't been at Sacre Coeur, and it clearly isn't here either. Not when I see everyone around me talk with such ease, such familiarity. They make the perfect picture, with me on the sidelines taking it in.
When breakfast is finished, Marcello gives me a nod and I follow behind him as he heads to his office.
My palms itch, the anxiety killing me. Until now I haven't really had the time to have an in-depth conversation with Marcello, and I still have the feeling that I'm an extra in this house.
Closing the door behind me, I watch him go around his desk to take a seat, motioning me to do the same .
I sit down, back straight as I'd been conditioned, the scars too painful to make me bend even a little. My hands in my lap, I'm the model of decorum.
Don't send me back!
The only thing I can think of is that I never want to set foot in Sacre Coeur again. And while inside I'm boiling with curiosity as to what Marcello will say to me, on the outside I look as serene as ever. It sure comes in handy to have perfected a poker face over the years.
"Assisi," Marcello starts, looking intently at me, "how are you getting used to the house? I trust everything is to your liking?"
"Of course," I readily agree, "it's more than I could have asked for. Thank you for this," I add.
He nods almost absentmindedly, and I get the vaguest impression that he wants this meeting to be over as soon as possible. My palms are sweating, but I keep my smile in place.
He seems to be hesitating as he asks, "Was Sacre Coeur okay? Did you have any problems?"
For a second—just a brief second—I consider telling him everything I endured. How my body is riddled with scars from those righteous nuns. For that tiny moment, I want to lay everything on the table and ask him why . Why did they have to abandon me there? What did I ever do besides being born?
Over the years, the nuns had enjoyed telling me how I'd been abandoned because of my birthmark and that my family did not want to be saddled with a cursed child. They'd been so delighted in always pointing out how no one wanted me.
But as soon as those thoughts resurface, I push them down. Why bring back the past? And most importantly, why ask something I might not like the answer to? What if he tells me exactly what I don't want to hear?
"It was fine," I start, stretching my lips even more. "The nuns were so good to me," I lie, that one untruth burning through me as it leaves my lips. "But they've also helped me understand I'm not suited for the monastic life," I add just to be sure. If he thinks the nuns don't want me, then he can't ship me back there .
"Why?" He raises an eyebrow, and I'm put on the spot. "Why were you not suited for monastic life?"
"I..."
"I'm just trying to understand you better, Assisi," Marcello interjects, his eyes boring into me.
Why do I suddenly feel like I'm being interrogated?
"I was too curious," I admit truthfully, "and I was not predisposed to following the dogma. You could say my teachers and I butted heads often over disparate opinions." I choose my words carefully. If only he knew the stunts I pulled at Sacre Coeur...
After years of abuse, I'd just snapped. I didn't care about what happened to me anymore, so I just acted out. Certainly, after Cressida's death, only worse things awaited me. So I just gave in, and for the first time, I stayed true to myself instead of forcing myself to be someone they wanted me to be.
And hell if it hasn't been relieving. Like a weight being lifted off my chest, I've finally found a modicum of happiness. Maybe that's also why I'm so drawn to Vlad. He doesn't judge me for who I am. Instead, he cheers me on, both our crazies mixing together.
"I see," Marcello replies.
What do you see?
Why is he so closed off? I can't get a reading on him to know if my answers are satisfactory or not.
"It is good to be curious," he continues. "You should never stop asking questions."
Silence envelops us, and we're just looking at each other, the awkwardness only increasing.
"Right," I say eventually. "If that's all?"
He nods at me, picking up his glasses and putting them on. Shuffling some files around his desk, I can tell I've been dismissed.
And as I leave his office, I can't help but ask myself.
Does he even want me here?