Dollface

Part 47

I: Simon, I'm worried, it's just- uh, none of this makes any sense!
S: You don't have to worry. I'm protecting you, I'm looking after you. Everything, I'm doing it for you. Can't you understand that? I gave you my damnedest last night, and you still feel like questioning me?

Guilt smacks my face, forcing me to avert my eyes to the floor, silently swallowing the lump in my throat before looking back up at him.

His dark eyes remained in my direction. Staring for so long as if he could see right through me. I felt vulnerable, naked from the feet of my shield that hid my secrets.

The tension in the room was thick, almost suffocating.

The longer it was quiet, the more I felt like I was. I was drowning in the silence, but my head was brought back above water when Simom spoke.

S: I broke every rule I ever promised... for you. Shit.

He runs his hands over his face and leans against the door.

S: I've never done this before, Isa. No one has seen me like you have, no one has cared for me like you have, shit, no one had kissed me before you.
I: I-I was your first kiss?
S: See! And yet, even after I told you multiple times that I've never been close to anyone, you can't even use your brain to figure out that I've probably never been close enough to someone to kiss them!

I didn't know what to say, I can't argue because he's right, of course I was his first kiss, who else would he have kissed? He hates everyone he meets.

I: I'm trying...

I insist in a gentle tone.

I: I really am. But you can't blame me for questioning you, because you switch characters against me all the time! First you yell at me, then... you care about me and call me dollface, then you're heartless again.

He sighs deeply and rubs his jaw.

S: I didn't grow up like you, okay?! I'm not used to giving one so much...
I: Simom,-
S: And when I give a lot, I get fucking questioned like I am the bad guy!

He replied, shaking his head slowly.

I: I'm not saying you're the bad guy. I'm worried because there are things you're not telling me!
S: Good!!

He hissed.

S: I've had the tattoo for so long, okay? I'm not ready to tell you where it came from. If you want me to change for you, you have to let me go step by step and at my own pace. Shit, it's not easy for me.

I was surprised when he approached the end of the bed and stopped right in front of me.

I: Sorry, I just wanted to feel like I was helping, but all I've done is just add a problem.
S: You've been a pain in the ass.

He grabs my wrists, pulls me up, and I'm standing right in front of him, so close that our chests are touching.

S: I'm glad we're both on the same page.

He comments, unconcerned about my reaction, which turns out to be just a smile.

S: But your pain is what bothers me the most, that's why I hate it when you cry, and I can't lose you to those damn bastards who have intentions that could be anything.

He brings a hand to my chin, rubbing my bottom lip with his thumb, I find the action comforting, knowing that every part of me that was touched was perfect as long as it was. I just wonder why he had to be like that.

S: My job is no longer to protect you, it's my instinct, my job now is to find your father and keep the collaboration alive.

I gradually start to nod, slowly wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. Even though I've been so arrogant lately, he still returns the gesture, wrapping his arms tightly around my body.

I: I know, and you're doing a great job, baby.

I try to reassure him. His grip on me tightens, holding me like I'd vanish into thin air if he let go. I was like dust in his palms, held so carefully it felt like I'd slip through his fingers.

I: I'm so proud of you.

Instantly, his body stiffens and I feel the movement of his chest stop.

S: N-nobody said that to me before.
I: Well, they should have, but whoever didn't, screw them, because it's me, and I mean it.
S: You do?
I: With all my heart.

~~~~
It's been hours since we arrived and there was still nothing in my dad's office. Simon just leaned back in his desk chair and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

I watch him carefully as I sit in the corner of the office and Johnny's groans fill the room. He continues to yell about wasting time, being unproductive and losing. Zendaya stands there, absolutely frustrated, but just demands of Johnny: Shut up then it was quiet.

J: I just don't know how it's possible that we know nothing while they know everything!!

Johnny confesses with excessive anger. My eyes are glued to the wall as I think. He was right though, I hardly think we were on the right track.

J: I have an idea. It may be a generalization but it's pretty reasonable that there's a chance they don't know either.
Z: What?

Z furrows his eyebrows and looks at him like he's stupid.

Z: Why would they go to so much trouble to get her without knowing the reason?
I: ...I'm pretty sure the man from the gas station who was at the masquerade had a reason for following us all the way to New York.

Finally, I take my eyes off the wall and look at each of them individually.

J: Right? Surely he knows, and Robert Grogan, but he's dead, come on, think about it. Why would a large group of people all fighting to the death for a girl?

Again, the silence enveloped us in its tense clouds. Johnny is impatiently embarrassing us all, waiting for one of us to answer like it's the most obvious thing in the world.

J: Money. That's the only thing I can think of.

The three of them turn to me and I sit there awkwardly, looking up at them.

I: What? How much money?
S: If so, probably billions.

I'm worth money? How? There's no way.

Z: Well, until we know for sure that's even the case, we shouldn't acknowledge it. There's nothing to work with here in Italy except temporary housing, so get your asses off.