Rose Thorns & Love Letters

14 ➪ Love, Nicholas

•Camilla•

3/3/1863
You do not know me, but I know you. I have watched you. Day after day I have watched you, desperately waiting for you to notice me. I do not expect you to proclaim your undying love for me as I want to do for you, though I do plead with you to accept me. Accept my love for you so I no longer need to watch you from a far distance.
Love, Nicholas

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I sit cross-legged on the couch facing Phoenix...or Lodovico. I still have no idea what I am to call him as he has sat on my couch for 10 minutes staring into space, and I have sat on my couch for 10 minutes staring at him.

His sudden appearance tampered with my usual sleep schedule but I brush that aside as I believe he may need someone here for him right now.

His breaths are quick and shallow and his brows seem to be permanently drawn together. His knee has not been still for the entirety of his visit here and I notice the lack of blinking he manages to do.

I clear my throat at an attempt to snap him out of his trance and it appears to work as he does the same. I refrain from touching him, worried that he will flinch or make another hurtful comment. He turns his head and his eyes immediately find mine.

I cannot stop my eyes from flickering down to his lips and observing the extra tint of pink they display. They start moving before I can register the fact that he is now talking.

"My mother called me." He mutters without a trace of emotion. I feel a pang to my chest and my jaw slowly drop. He didn't tell me much about his mother, but he did tell me she wasn't very good with alcohol.

"Are you...okay? Is that okay?" I speak quietly to ensure I do not alarm him and allow any anger arise. He pauses at my question but slowly nods his head after a little while.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I question. He averts his eyes from mine and I feel relief wash over me. I can't put my finger on it, but something about seeing him like this - vulnerable and alone - makes me feel sick.

"My mother had me even though she wasn't ready for me. She tried to raise me but quit when I was about 7 months old. She didn't try to contact me as I grew older. I hadn't even got one birthday card from her. Not one." He lets a deep breath out and reclines into the couch allowing his head fall back and his eyes flutter shut. "Now she just fucking calls me and acts as if everything is fine."

"Shit." I mumble under my breath. He doesn't react to what I say. I'm not sure if he even heard it. Though, I do not miss the way his shoulder tense when I stand from my seated position and retreat into the kitchen.

Sometimes it is not what you say that can help someone with what they are going through, sometimes it is what you do.

Although we all have our demons we fight on our own, I am never going to be able to experience what Phoenix went through from such a young age. I don't think there is much he can say to make me fully empathise with him, and I don't think there is much I can say to cheer him up again.

"You like hot cocoa?" I ask in attempts to lighten the mood. It does not seem like he is ready to let me all the way in and I do not feel like pushing him to.

Even though I am not facing in his direction, I can feel the heat of his stare on my back. When I do not get a response after a few seconds, I check to see if he is still listening. His face is screwed and he looks as though he is ready to puke.