Impassive

10| Freedom

"Am I allowed to leave the house?", she asked, sounding as insecure as she felt.

"Of course, why shouldn't you?"

AVA

"Am I allowed to leave the house?" I asked, my voice sharp and a little too defiant, even for me. I had rehearsed this moment in my head a thousand times the last three weeks, but now that it was here, it felt like the words wouldn't come out right. Yet, still I was very proud of myself for being able to speak as I wanted. The speechtherapy did wonders. "Alone?"

"First, I would appreciate if you put that letter opener down," Matteo said, his tone calm but firm. His eyes didn't leave me, and I could hear the unspoken command in his words. I hesitated for just a moment, my fingers tightening around the cold, smooth handle. I didn't know why I was so fixated on it. Maybe it was the need to feel something sharp, something that could give me control in a world where I had none. But Matteo's gaze never wavered, and it felt like he was waiting for me to listen. To comply. I didn't want to. I wanted to scream, to demand my independence, but instead, I found myself slowly setting the letter opener down on the table. The movement felt deliberate, as if I were letting go of something I didn't quite understand.

"Thank you," Matteo murmured, his voice low but with an edge to it that made me want to argue again.

I felt a sharp pang of irritation at the politeness in his voice. He was so controlled, so perfectly composed, like nothing ever rattled him. And here I was, barely holding it together. But I wasn't going to show him that. Not now. Not when I was on a mission!

"I don't need your protection," I said, my voice clipped. The words came out without thought, just like the others had. I hated how my tone kept betraying me, revealing more than I wanted to. I wasn't asking for sympathy or pity. I just wanted to be treated like a person again-not like some fragile thing that needed to be coddled. I unterstood his sudden sense for secruity and I unterstood why he was thinking someone would try to kill me, but if he really thought I would bear this situation-

His eyes finally met mine, and for a moment, I wished they hadn't. I didn't want to see that look in his eyes-the mixture of concern, frustration, and something else I couldn't quite decipher. "You need rest," he said, his voice low but firm. He said it so often, I began to wonder if he would still say it even if I'd be death. "You've been through a lot. I'm not going to let you walk around like nothing happened."

I shook my head, the bitterness in my chest rising again. "I can't just sit here, Matteo. I need to leave. It's been three weeks. I need to know that I'm not... trapped here."

His expression didn't change, but his jaw tightened. I could see that he was struggling to keep his cool. But then, he didn't answer right away. Instead, his gaze dropped to my hand-the one still resting on the table. And in that brief moment of hesitation, I reached for the letter opener again. I didn't even think about it. I just needed something to ground me, something that would make him listen. The cool metal felt solid beneath my fingers, and I could feel my grip tightening as if the cold blade could somehow give me the strength I didn't have.

But before I could lift it, Matteo was faster. His hand shot out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist with surprising force, pulling it away from the table before I even knew what had happened. The sudden pressure in my wrist was enough to make me freeze, my heartbeat quickening in surprise.

"Not this time," he said, his voice quiet but steady. His touch wasn't harsh, but there was no mistaking the intent behind it. His grip was firm, not letting me go. I jerked my wrist, trying to free myself, but his fingers didn't budge. I could feel his hand on my skin, warm and solid, and for a split second, everything else around us disappeared. My pulse was loud in my ears, my breathing uneven as I stared at him.