Oblivion ✓

B| Be our guest III

Highschool

THIRD PERSON

Luke hesitated, still shaken by the events of the night. His steps were heavy, his mind a jumble of confusion and fear. He had known things would get messy, but this—this was beyond his expectations. The weight of her brothers' eyes on him, the ever-present threat of those dogs... it felt like a trap slowly closing in.

Josephine led him down the hallway, her movements careful, deliberate. Luke couldn't help but notice the subtle wince in her step. He knew she was still hurting from the earlier attack, but she was doing her best to hide it. The tension between them thickened by the silence and the oppressive atmosphere. Was it the fear from the night before, or the weight of her brothers' warning that still lingered in the air?

The dogs followed close behind, their presence an unspoken reminder of how dangerous things had become. Their paws padded softly on the floor, a rhythmic echo that kept Luke on edge. He couldn't help but glance over his shoulder, trying to shake the feeling that they were always just a half-step away from being in his face. The dogs' eyes gleamed in the darkness, their movements synchronized in a way that was almost unsettling. He knew they weren't just animals; they were weapons—trained, bred for one purpose. They were as much a part of the Marini family's protection as any weapon or bodyguard.

Josephine must have sensed his unease, for she leaned slightly toward him, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't worry. They won't hurt you unless you give them a reason. Just... keep your distance. Let's get you something to wear first."

Luke nodded, his throat tight. Her words helped a little, but the dogs' cold, calculating stare gnawed at him. The house felt like it was swallowing him whole—its vastness, its quiet menace. He thought of Domenico's warning and had no illusions about how far these people would go to protect their own. One wrong move, and the dogs would be the least of his problems.

When they finally reached her room, Josephine opened the door with a quiet sigh. She stepped aside, gesturing for him to enter first. "Come on in."

Luke hesitated on the threshold, scanning the dimly lit room. It was cozy in a way, nothing extravagant, but personal. A mattress neatly made on the floor, a few scattered books on the desk, thousand plants spilling over every surface. A large window with the curtains drawn halfway. It felt like a glimpse into Josephine's life—her world, a world he didn't fully understand. Josephine stood in the doorway, watching him silently. After a moment, she stepped into her closet to find something for him to wear.

He used the time to look at the photos on her wall. Most of them were of her brothers, but there were also some of her as a child, presumably with her late parents. He grinned when he saw a picture of her being carried piggyback by Valentino—at least he assumed it was him, based on the build—and she was looking back at the camera, laughing. She had a beautiful laugh, he thought. Then he looked further. "Oh, so you're cotton candy? We'd already asked ourselfs who that was in the picture with Matteo."

Josephine stepped back into the room, following his line of sight. "Cotton candy?" she asked, confusion in her voice.

"Yeah," Luke said with a slight grin, "because instead of your face, there's just... okay, never mind, it sounds really lame." He shifted uncomfortably, but then asked, "Where were you in that picture?"

"In Canada, with my godmother." Josephine handed him a blue sweater, her expression unreadable.

Luke's fingers tightened around the fabric. The sweater, small and simple, felt like more than just a piece of clothing—it felt like a lifeline, a tether in the chaos. "Thank you," he said smiling brightly. "I didn't think you'd keep it." He shook his head, forcing a chuckle. "I expected Riccardo would've burned it by now."