"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 PLOP DOWN on the much smaller mattress with a sigh of relief, relishing in the way it gently bends under my weight, barely even bothered by it but still feathering my fall.
Ale is quick to follow, throwing himself onto the bed much more carelessly, causing it to squeal in panic as it hurries to accommodate his weight. San on the other hand stays by the door, where his hand has frozen on the door handle after closing it. His back is turned to us, so his expression is hidden. But by the way his knuckles are turning white around the door handle and how his shoulders are raised ever so slightly in tension, it's not hard to tell what's going through his mind.
I raise myself back up from the mattress and slowly step toward him. His head tilts to the side as he registers the sound of my footsteps. "He scares me," he whispers weakly into the silence that has embraced the room. My heart clenches at the vulnerability he's displaying.
He usually holds it all back, puts on a brave face as to assure Ale and me that we have someone to rely on, someone who has it all together. When in reality, he doesn't. He's not even close to it. It's just an illusion that we allow him to create for his own comfort, so that he can latch onto it and keep himself grounded.
It's more of a reassurance to himself, rather than to us really. But I'm not sure if he knows that.
However, whenever the illusion falls and his fragile facade crumbles, it still feels like a punch in the gut.
Tentatively, I reach out a hand to lay upon his right shoulder. "San," my voice comes out gentle, as if to soothe a startled animal. He doesn't flinch, likely already having anticipated for me to choose this approach at calming him. Slightly, his shoulders lose some of their tension, his body unconsciously leaning into my hand. The floor creaks underneath as his weight shifts.
A breath of air escapes me, a quiet sigh, as I retract my hand from his shoulder to wrap it around his torso instead, along with my other hand, before I move in to entangle my body with his entirely.
His scent encases me faster than I do him. I breathe it in as I press my cheek into the space between his shoulder blades, snuggling into the soft fabric of his hoodie. I almost startle at just how soft it is for a moment, momentarily forgetting about the new clothes.
So close to him, I can feel him release a shaky breath, his back rising softly against my front. Immediately, he latches onto my hands which are interwoven on his stomach, clutching them as if desperately seeking some kind of relief. I refrain from grimacing when his fingers begin to dig into my skin.
"He scares me too," I admit gently, trying my very hardest to keep my voice from wavering. Right now, it's time for me to put on that composed facade.
He needs it.
He takes my reply as a clue to pour out his thoughts, lay them out in front of us, scrabble them onto the walls so they can haunt us even after their sound has faded."They're so confusing," a bout of frustration rips through his throat, "Nothing they do or say makes any fucking sense."
