"𝐖𝐞 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝𝐧'𝐭 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐞."
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Alyssa, Alessandro and Alessio Smith have gone through hell.
They've been fighting to survive from the moment they'd first opened their eyes. Six...
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I GENTLY TUG at San's black blazer, silently telling him to hold back on his anger toward the guy across from us before he can do something he'll regret. Then, I lean onto my tippy toes as much as my still slightly trembling legs allow me - my body and my mind still shaken from the memories I was forced to re-live so vividly - and whisper in the most reassuring voice I can muster, "It wasn't him."
I make a small pause before I continue, my gaze flickering to Dante, who's watching me intensely - although, oddly enough, it's a different kind of intense than usually, a less vicious one; intrigued rather, mirroring the way he'd lifted his brow earlier.
"He helped us."
At that, San's body noticeably stiffens, surprise appearing in his eyes. Averting his gaze from me, he looks toward Ale for confirmation, who nods - as I can feel against the crook of my neck, where his head is still nestled in, with just his eyes peeking out and up at our older brother.
With the surprise comes suspicion as his gaze finally returns to Dante. And once again, I don't need to have some sort of psychic mind-reading abilities to be able to understand or hear the thoughts going through his mind. They're as clear as day to me, exact replicas of the questions swarming my own mind.
"Why?" he inquires cautiously, voicing what I hadn't been able to.
Dante's face remains stoic, but I catch the way his right hand twitches lightly underneath the fabric of the pocket of his black slacks as his eyes trail over the three of us and our still somewhat bundled up form. And for a moment, he looks like he wants to say something, lips parting slightly, but then, as if deciding against it, he cuts himself off before a sound can pass. Heavy silence wraps around us as his mouth remains firmly shut.
His eyes are fixed on us, on me specifically, burning holes into my skin - though different than usual, yet all the same intense - as no one speaks another word. They rake over me painstakingly slow until they halt at my chest. Thereupon, the intensity somehow increases, and sure enough, daring a glance at the expression on his face, it has visibly tightened. It's not anger that's hardening his features though. Although I don't what else exactly is, either.
My eyebrows draw together in a silent question as I follow his line of sight down to my chest. A small, sharp gasp escapes me when I find the first two buttons of my shirt still undone. Instantly, I turn around so that my back is facing him, and begin to button up my blouse. But with the shakiness of my hands it turns out to be a greater task than I'd first assumed. I sink my teeth into my lower lip as my movements grow more frantic, the gaze continuing to burn into the back of my head making me nervous.
I startle slightly when two warm hands come down atop of my smaller ones suddenly. Looking up, I find San smiling down at me softly, the kind of reassurance in his eyes that has some of my tension ease up, before he gently shooes my hands aside and finishes what I couldn't even begin.
