His Sunflower

8

'And he looked at me like there was something in me worth looking at.'

I didn't want to anger him by declining his offer but I knew better than to put him in danger by associating himself with someone like me. I knew that my father and his police friends would be wondering around, watching me, following me, waiting for me to slip up so they can report me to my father, giving him an excuse to hit me, not that he thought he needed one.

Shaking my head slightly, I kept my eyes fixed on the ground and continued the painfully long journey to college. I didn't make it very far before he began to trail me in his car. I tried to walk faster but I was in so much pain that I physically couldn't.

"Sunflower, get in the car per favore (please)", he pleaded whilst looking at me with such intensity that I almost fainted.

Just as I was about to continue walking again, I suddenly felt dizzy. My vision blurred and I could see flashing lights. Bile began rising up my throat but I hadn't eaten in so long that there was only a burning sensation. My legs began to lose feeling and I prepared myself for the hard fall that was to come but before I went down, a strong set of arms encased around me and caught me.

With no energy to protest, he gently lifted me up and put me into the passenger seat of his car. I was too weak and out of it to process what exactly was happening until I heard the engine roar to life.

From the corner of my eye, I could see his eyes on me. Instead of looking with me with disgust, he looked worried at my weak figure and I felt embarrassed to have acted like that in front of him.

"Stai bene? (Are you ok?)", he asked me, with concern lacing his voice.

I nearly forgot how to breathe. I had never heard someone speak to me so carefully, asking me if I was okay. I don't remember the last time someone genuinely asked me how I was.

I gave him a small nod to answer his question and tried to move my hair so it covered my blazing cheeks.

Judging from his facial expressions, he seemed surprised that I was able to understand him.

"Sorry, when I get sca- when I feel a lot of emotions, I automatically switch to Italian. I didn't know you understood it", he said, with a small smile on his face.

My mother taught me Italian from a young age – basically from when I started talking – and I'm fluent in it, although I haven't spoken in Italian since she passed away.

Hearing him speak fluent Italian made that weird feeling return in my stomach. His thick accent and deep voice almost made me melt into the seat I was sitting on.

Snapping out of my daydream, I realised that the engine was on but he hadn't yet moved the car. I was too scared to question his motives and I was preparing myself for the worst.

"Your seatbelt, amore (love)", he said, whilst removing his jacket and placing it on the seat at the back of his car. As he put his hands back on the wheel, I noticed his impressive muscles bulging through his shirt and his large hands, which were decorated in rings, ran through his hair.

Before I got caught staring, I carefully pulled the seatbelt over me and buckled myself in. With a subtle nod, he began driving.

I had no clue as to where he was driving me but instead of feeling frightened, I felt some sort of excitement. Something deep in my heart told me to trust him and I had nothing to lose so I figured I would embrace the adventure and worry about the consequences later.

I hadn't realised how beautiful the scenery was around me. I finally had the chance to have a look at the nature around me without worrying that once of my fathers friends would come to grab me or my father would forget I had school and think was running away, so he would go on a manhunt and chase me back home to hell.

Snapping out of my thoughts, I realised that the car had come to a stop and we were outside a restaurant. He had parked right outside, undoing his seatbelt, and grabbing his jacket from the backseat.

"I'll be back in a minute, Sunflower", he said, checking I was okay before practically running out of the car and into the restaurant.

True to his word, he came back even before I could figure out what restaurant we were parked outside of.

Opening the door with one hand, he passed me the bag of food which he held in his other hand, getting back in the drivers seat and putting on his seatbelt.

Thinking about food and smelling it all made me even more hungry than I already was and I didnt know how much longer I could survive without eating or drinking something. I was just waiting for the point where I would be too hungry to even feel hungry. That had happened to me a few times before and those were the times which were the most worrying. Those were the times where it had been so long without food or water, that eventually, I forgot that I even needed it to survive. It was only after I had fainted in college that the nurse had given me a bottle of water and some food to reenergise myself. I had to lie saying that I was stressed about my exams, which is why I hadn't been taking care of myself. She seemed sceptical about it and was going to call my father but I begged her not to, that he would just unnecessarily worry and I had it all under control.

I just hoped that he ate all the food quickly so I dont have to see the food for as long. I could see a slice of pizza and some chips in the bag and I felt like crying. My arm went to my stomach to stop it from making noises in hunger and the hand which was holding the bag was shaking.

"What's wrong, tesoro (sweetheart)? Do you not like the food? I knew I should have gone somewhere else! I can get something else for you, just tell me what you want", he panicked.

The food was for me? Without even realising what I was doing, I pointed a shaky finger at myself, silently questioning what he meant.

"Sì", he said, gesturing to the bag of food on my lap.

The tears I desperately tried to keep in flooded out my eyes. I felt so overwhelmed and so confused about why he was being so kind to me.

Was it a trick? Was he pretending to be nice to me just so I would hurt more when he punishes me later?