Leonora Bernardi locked in the dark. Hurt for most of her life, scared of her own shadow. Not knowing what the outside world is like, she's the epitome of innocence. One look at her and it's like her aura could light up the room.
Nikolai Volkov fut...
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Querencia: - a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.
Nikolai POV:
I groan as the alarm's piercing sound hits my ears as I groggily open my eyes. It's 4 a.m, according to my phone, which is on the bedside table next to me. Why did my father think it was a good idea to leave this early. It's stupid.
We reserved the jet early so we could get in sviyazhsk in the early morning since my father wanted to go as soon as possible. Time distances are weird. Just let me go back to sleep. Five more minutes please, but my alarm just carries on. Ugh.
Getting up I stumble over to my alarm and turn it off before walking over to my bedroom window opening the curtains to see the dark sky above. It's too early for the sun to be rising right now. Walking over to my wardrobe I grab some clothes, which include some black jeans, a black hoodie and a dark grey bomber's jacket.
There's no way I'm wearing one of my suit's on a long ass plane journey. Most likely, my father won't even be dressed in a suit. He will probably want to wear something a little more casual as we are returning to the location that he considers to be most like home.
I stroll into my bathroom, open the door, grab a toothbrush which I plop in my mouth, and use my fingers to brush the knots out of my dark hair as I fluff up the strands.
My jacket and hoodie's sleeves were visible through the elaborate designs on my tattoos. I grin as I think back to the sketch I discovered in the living room yesterday.
There's only one person that I know would recall every detail of the flowing tattoos on my hands and arms, and I can pinpoint exactly whose hand's those were. I've started to notice that Leonora's tendency to trace the tattoos across my arms helps with her panic attacks, which makes me feel proud that I can calm her down when she most needs it.
Speaking of Leonora, I put my toothbrush back where it belonged and rinse my mouth before going to Leonora's room to see whether she's awake.
Stopping outside of the familiar door I let my knuckles hit the door lightly hoping for a response, but there's no reply.
"Leonora? дорогая... You awake?" (translation: love) I ask, waiting once more, but there's nothing. Just silence.
"Leonora I'm coming in okay?" I say, just to make sure, in case she's getting changed or something. Do I just go in?
Opening the door my eyes meet a dark room, Leonora's small figure sleeping soundly in bed looking peaceful. I smile as I walk closer to her, trying to be as quiet as I can because I'm afraid I might startle her.
Her gentle breathing fills the room as I settle down on the side of the bed next to her and caress her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. My hand lingering on the soft skin of her cheek, her freckles scattered across her cheekbones and nose.
