Wolfsbane

23. I open up a can of unadressed manpain

Over the next few days Luca and I were attached at the hip. Especially considering the fact that two of his sisters has left in the ongoing turmoil. Now, Andrea and Maria remained, the only two which were up to the challenge of starting an investigation.

Andrea passed through the halls silently, occasionally waving hello to Luca and I as we went about basic daily tasks. Maria on the other hand couldn't stop talking. Though it wouldn't seem that way, I was quite grateful for her constant chatter. It masked the awkwardness which was almost palpable between Luca and I.

The space between us was shrinking far too quickly for my liking. We sat right next to each other, his hand would often grasp mine absentmindedly and I didn't know how to react. Of course, I knew that for him it was a test, he wanted to see how long he could last. There was no feeling in the contact, it was more of an obligation.

Currently, we sat on the couch. Well, Luca sat on the couch, I was pretty much sitting on his lap, my back pressed flush against his chest. As he was much taller than me, his chin rested on top of my head.

I don't quite know exactly how we arrived in such a complicated position. We'd been siting on opposite ends of the couch until I mentioned that I was cold. He began with criticizing my outfit choice (an oversized t-shirt of his which I'd stolen, he remarked on that as well, though I'd gotten the impression that he thought it suited me). After criticizing me, we'd inched towards each other a little bit too much. First, we'd been leaning against each other. Next thing I knew, I was in his lap.

Luca had a book in one hand, and the other hand was playing with my hair. He would take a tendril and wrap it around his finger, then let it fall away back down to my shoulders. I, on the other hand was not engaged in such riveting cultural activities. Instead, I'd located an old DVD copy of Jumanji with Robin Williams. I was quite tempted to ask Luca why such a movie was present in his family home. Judging by the fact that he was ignoring the film, I guessed that the film wasn't his, nor was it his favorite.

My eyes ran along his arms. They somehow managed to look muscular even through the grey sweater he sported. My eyes flashed over the pages of the book he was reading, he over halfway through the book. I focused on the tiny printed script on the page. He was reading 1984. My brother and I read that years ago, Dad had challenged us to read some 20th century classics. Mitch and I fought over who would get to read 1984 first. I lost of course, Mitch was older and mom thought that 1984 would be to graphic for me.

I turned around to face him as well as I could. He shifted slightly at my sudden movement but did not look up from his book, which puzzled me slightly.

"Luca?"I said, attempting to create some form of conversation.

He closed his book, tossing it onto the coffee table then faced me, his eyes were impassive.

I shifted off of his lap carefully. I stared at him once again and I knew what I wanted to ask.

"How's your arm?" I asked

"What are you talking about?" Luca said flatly

"From the other night" I said "the scratching"

"My arms healed" Luca said

Silence.

I pressed on.

"It's just..." I began "I mean...I've never seen you-"

"If your going to ask the question, ask it" Luca said. The way in which he said it made me raise my eyebrow. I had the sinking feeling that the other night wasn't the first time he'd had an incident.

"What happened to you?" I said flatly.

Luca swallowed and for a moment, I thought I saw a break in his stony demeanor.