Chapter 12 - Marella
The apartment had south-facing windows and overlooked Piazza Centrale.
It was filled with green plants and light from the late afternoon sun.
It was sparsely furnished, but there was a soft couch and a separate room with a bed covered in white linen.
As I stood on the balcony, arms crossed over my chest, I could watch as crowds of people surged around my family, taking photographs of the fountain and throwing coins into the water at their feet.
If I were to throw a coin, what would I wish for?
"You should be safe here," Garrett was saying as he puttered about in the kitchen, opening cabinets to check their contents, then closing them abruptly again. "This apartment is for visiting family members, but so few of the Fratelli have family that it’s hardly ever used. I’ll make sure no one bothers you. "
I wondered if my sisters could see me up here. I’d never really tried to look into the buildings surrounding the square, but perhaps they did? While I was watching the people on the ground, maybe Ordina was watching the balconies.
Sunset wasn’t far away, and I felt myself growing anxious at the prospect, not only because nighttime was regularly difficult for me, but because it marked the end of my first day awake. One entire day had elapsed, and while I’d found my Fratello, I had no idea how to make him fall in love with me.
I searched my memories. Surely there must have been a time when I’d felt love for a man. Lust I could remember with ease—that feeling was as familiar as the thirst with which we suffered each time we awoke.
But love?
Had I ever known what that felt like, let alone how to inspire it in another?
Behind me, Garrett was still talking, narrating the purpose of every piece of the apartment as if I were a child who needed instruction.
And while I did certainly need to be shown the function and purpose of a refrigerator, I wasn’t stupid; a brief overview would have sufficed, as opposed to the fifteen-minute lecture he insisted on providing.
"The tap water should be safe to drink," he said as he lifted a handle on the sink and let the clear, cool liquid run for several seconds. I’d seen it in bars and clubs on nights when I’d woken to hunt, but the concept of running water still boggled my mind.
After a few seconds, he shook his head and frowned, then looked at me apologetically.
"I’m sorry," he said. "You can’t drink the water, can you? "
I raised my eyebrows. As if on cue, I felt a hot, familiar tickle at the back of my throat. I was thirsty, but not in the way I had grown accustomed to.
"I don’t actually know," I said slowly, staring at the water as it poured from the spout.
Garrett watched me for a moment, then opened a cupboard above the sink, pulling out a tall glass and filling it up to the top. He didn’t approach me, but held out the glass in my direction as an invitation, like he was trying to entice me to him.
A part of me didn’t think that it was worth the risk. If water were still harmful to me, I could end up writhing on the ground in pain as it burned its way down my throat. But as I looked from the glass in his outstretched hand to his face, his wide, optimistic eyes made me want to at least try.
Slowly, I walked towards where he stood, the only sound in the apartment the rushing of the still-running water, completely forgotten as he watched me approach.
I let myself step closer to him than was probably necessary, trembling as I reached out to take the glass from his hand.
For a moment, our fingers brushed, and I almost dropped it, as the brief touch sparked something beneath my skin that made me gasp.
"Are you okay?" he asked, brow furrowing in concern. His voice was breathy, as if he’d been running, and I wondered if he’d felt the electric current humming between us as well. "Did it burn you?"
I let myself feel the pooling condensation on my fingertips. It felt cool and soft and… wet. It felt wet without feeling painful, a sensation I hadn’t experienced in hundreds of years.
With a choked sob, I brought the water to my lips so quickly that I nearly chipped my teeth on the glass. It slid down my throat like honey, and I could swear that I’d never tasted anything as sweet. I closed my eyes against the pleasure of it.
When I drained the glass, I immediately filled it again, repeating the process as many times as I could before my stomach felt sick and distended.
As I took my final few sips, I finally let my eyes slowly open once more.
Garrett was still there, watching me, smiling slightly as if amused by what he saw.
"What?" I snapped, perhaps too defensively. "I was thirsty."
"I can see that." He smirked. "And it seems like the water can’t hurt you anymore."
I nodded absentmindedly, trying to piece together all that this could mean. Garrett had shown me how to run water to take a bath. I could sit submerged in water for as long as I liked.
Would my tail appear? The prospect nearly took my breath away. If I stepped into that bathtub… would I finally be whole again?
And while I knew that I had a job to do, that I should spend as much time as possible with the man in this room, all I wanted in that moment was to send him away so that I could peel off my clothes and let the water run over me for hours.
I was just about to tell him so when I was struck by an idea.
There was, in fact, a way that I could accomplish both tasks. Or at least, make progress.
Without taking my eyes off his, I slowly set the glass down on the countertop beside the sink.
His seawater-blue eyes held nothing but questions as I took a step backward, then another, before turning my back on him and walking into the bathroom.
Following the instructions he’d given me just moments before, I inserted the drain stopper and pulled up on the lever in the bathtub, relishing the thundering sound of water as it filled the basin.
When I emerged, he was still standing where I’d left him, shuffling nervously from foot to foot and looking back and forth between the phone he’d pulled from his pocket and the door.
"If you’re going to take a bath, I guess I can—"
I cut him off with the sound of a zipper, reaching behind my back to peel open the red dress.
It loosened around me in waves of fabric before falling to the ground at my feet.
All the while, I kept my eyes locked on his, waiting for the moment when he’d tear them away from my face to take in the sight of my bare skin.
He never did.
There was no denying that something shifted in his expression—his throat bobbed with a deep swallow, and a muscle twitched at the corner of his mouth. But he never let himself look at the space beneath my chin.
Still, I wasn’t deterred. I smiled, letting the tips of my canines peek out against my lower lip, then took one step backward, inclining my head in invitation for him to follow me back into the bathroom.
He cleared his throat once. Twice. And then, finally, he broke eye contact, not to look at me, but to look at a spot on the floor across the room. He smiled and shook his head before turning on his heel and walking out of the apartment without a word.
I was left alone, with nothing but the sound of running water and the distant chatter of people in the square below to fill the empty space around me.