Silent love

Chapter 53

On the previous chapter...

I lifted my head slightly, my face wet, my lips trembling. My gaze landed on the corner of the room, on his jacket. The one he left last time he snuck in. Still hanging on the back of my chair like he was going to come back and grab it.

My chest cracked wide open.

I crawled across the room without thinking, reaching for the fabric like it might still be warm. Like it might still carry him. I clutched it to my chest, wrapped it around myself, and curled up on the floor again.

The smell was faint now, but it was there. Him.

And that was when the sob finally came, real and raw and wrecking.

It punched out of me like it had been waiting, and I couldn't hold it back anymore. My fingers clenched in the soft fabric as I shook, as I whispered his name into the folds like it would call him back.

"Federico..."

I kept whispering it. Like a prayer. Like a curse.
Like maybe if I said it enough, he'd walk through the door again and laugh at me for crying this hard.

But he didn't.

And I stayed like that wrapped in his jacket, curled in on myself, quietly unraveling on the floor until there was nothing left in me but silence.

           ʚ ɞ

Fiorenzo sat on the back steps of the villa, one foot resting on the gravel, a cigarette burning slowly between his fingers though he hadn't touched it in ten minutes. He didn't smoke often, it tasted like shit, made him dizzy but tonight he needed something to hold. Something to do with his hands.

His eyes were puffy, but dry now. He didn't even remember crying. Maybe he hadn't. Maybe it was just the way the cold made his eyes sting.

The night air bit at his skin, but he didn't move. Just stared out into the garden like it might offer answers.

He kept hearing Federico's voice in his head. Not yelling, not this time. Just that low, clipped tone he used when he was trying to keep himself calm.

"You're reckless, Ives. You act like nothing touches you".

The cigarette trembled between his fingers, and he dropped it into the gravel before it reached the filter.

He used to hate that voice.

The way it made him feel small, like a kid caught doing something stupid. Federico never meant to make him feel that way, not really. But he always needed to be in control. Of everything. Everyone. Especially Fiorenzo.

And Fiorenzo... he pushed back. Every time.

Because he didn't want to be another pawn in Federico's chessboard world. He wanted to be the one person who didn't follow the rules. Who could still laugh in the middle of all this blood and concrete and legacy bullshit.

But now...

Now the voice was gone.

And all Fiorenzo wanted was to hear it again.

Just one more time.

He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, and stared at the cracks in the stone. The same ones Federico used to trip over when they were kids running through the yard. He remembered that summer, the one where their mother was still alive, still halfway lucid, when they'd played tag for hours, breathless and wild, Federico letting him win just once and only after Fiorenzo had tackled him into the grass.