Tainted Faith

Nineteen: Diciannove [edited 02/04/21]

- [TRIGGER WARNING // SUICIDE] -

Curled atop the bed, the sheets crumpled and twisted around her, Liliana's body shuddered in a silent sob. Beside her, sat her unlocked phone.

She had been so foolish. As any young, deluded girl would, she had trusted her father implicitly; she had believed he cared for her and would protect her from the evils of his work, as he had failed to do with her mother. Yet, he hadn't even bothered to defend himself over the phone, merely spluttered a few reprimanding words as if she was at fault for questioning his motivations.

The phone call had barely lasted five minutes before he hung up on her.

"Liliana?" Mercello's sharp voice pushed through her sniffles and caught her off guard. She hadn't heard the door open. She groaned pitifully, knowing it was too late to hide her sorry state. "You've been crying?"

Liliana shot him an incredulous look, expression twisted in pain. Her eyes felt raw, her cheeks flushed, there was no doubt that she had been crying herself sick.

"Are you okay?" His voice was quiet and calmer than she had ever heard him speak. He hadn't spoke to her with anything but a scowl for the past week, and whatever this false air of sensitivity was, she didn't trust it. Liliana showed him as much with a glower directed his way, eyes narrowing further when he took a step towards her.

"Why bother asking? It's not like you care," she snapped, wiping roughly at her wet cheeks with shaking hands.

"I do care."

Liliana couldn't muster the effort required to scoff her disbelief. The day he cared would be the day she was beyond help.

Marcello seemed hesitant as he folded his jacket on the top of their dresser and approached the bed. Gone was his usual anger and distance.

"What's wrong?"

Liliana clenched her eyes shut, hating the ache in her chest at his soft tone. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair that he could ignore her for days and act like nothing other than an ass when they were together, and still leave her wanting to confide in him. Truthfully, she just didn't want to feel so damn alone.

The mattress dipped under his weight as he took a seat, and a strangled sob escaped when she felt his fingers graze her hand.

She pulled herself up into a sitting position, and forced herself to school her expression as best she could.

"My father," she uttered, unable to avoid the bitter taste on the tip of her tongue at the mention of the traitorous relation. "I've just had a particularly rotten conversation with him over the phone. If you don't mind I'd like to keep it to myself." Mercello's heavy hand fell to her knee and Liliana's harsh gaze did it's best to remove it.

"If you ever need to talk." Mercello left the phrase open which led Liliana to believe that he couldn't possibly know how to even finish it - that he didn't know how to offer such kindness. With her head bent forward, her eyes meeting his, her response was unaffected by his attempts to stupefy her.

"You may want me to believe that, but I'm afraid I just can't bring myself to it. There's far too much evidence towards your selfishness and sexism that one false act of understanding and kindness don't persuade me to fall for your masquerade. I don't know why you're trying to exploit my state of vulnerability but it only adds to your callous personality, and in all honest I don't really care to find out. Now," she breathed as her hand fell to his, her slim fingers curling across the back of his hand and removing it slowly from her leg. "Thank you for lending an ear, but I don't want it. If you'll excuse me I'm going to take a bath before bed."