Breaking Point

Chapter Fifteen

What makes you, you.

Santiago

I got up quickly and ran after her, I want to know what's the reason behind her nightmares, why some nights she doesn't sleep at all. It was curiosity and it'll be useful in the future to help with the whole falling for me thing.

I chased after her and grabbed her wrist and turned her to face me, her cheeks were streaked with tears and her lip was quivering, like she was trying hard not to cry out loud.

"Illianna, please." She used her sleeve to wiper tears and took a minute to calm herself down.

"Why do you want to know so badly?" She questioned, turning to walk back inside. I hurried after her.

"I want to know you, this is you." I said walking next to her, taking her hand.

"Santiago, it's not something you should want to know." We walked into the quiet estate and I lead her up the stairs, my hand still in hers.

"In order to know someone you need to know what they went through, that's what makes them who they are" I said, opening my room door. I lead her inside and pulled her to sit next to me on the couch, she didn't protest so I guess it was a good sign.

"Tell me Illianna." I brushed her hair from her face, using my thumb to rub her cheek gingerly.

"I should start with my mom, it would make more sense."

She inhaled deeply and sighed. "As you know, the engagement between Bryson and I was forced on by my father, he needed an heir and Bryson wanted me. Made perfect sense." She had a wry smile on her face and she clenched her fist. "At the time, I was only fifteen, Bryson was twenty-three. The seven year age gap meant absolutely nothing to my father as he just handed me off to him with no hesitation. I objected, on several occasions and that's when he stared threatening me." She breathed in heavily.

"My mom is in a cell right now, for what, I have no idea but she's been in there for as long as I can remember. When I was younger I blindly followed my father without asking questions, I hated her because he did. I never even spoke to her until I was eleven. My mom used to sneak out of her cell every night to talk to me, teach me Spanish. At first I thought I was dreaming but when I started actually speaking it I knew they weren't dreams. I was so damn angry that I went down to go and yell her."

"When I got there she was in the middle of her cell, on the ground, painting. Her entire cell was covered in paintings and sketches from top to bottom, it was the only thing my father let her do. Out of spite I threw water on the space she was painting and ruined it." She laughed dryly. "I thought she would get upset and cry, my father always told me she was weak and I believed it. Instead she looked up at me and said that she could easily paint another one, and that made me so fucking mad. I asked her why she was teaching me how to speak Spanish and she told me that it was in my blood. I sat in front of her and gave her the meanest look I could muster, trying to scare her. 'You're a liar, just like daddy said' I had told her, she laughed at me. She laughed so hard I was convinced she was crazy and left her there."

"The next day, I came down again, just for the fun of it. I wanted to see how she would react to my presence. I sat in front of her cell and she sat behind the bars, we stared at each other for four hours before I left her there. The next day I returned and she asked me a question, 'why do you come here if you hate me so much?' For an eleven year old, I had a lot of hatred to go around, so I told her it was because I had nothing better to do, it was really because I was fascinated by her art. I was already trying to be an artist before I met her and seeing her cell just made me want to be like her, well skillfully anyway. She had a feeling that it was because of her art I was there because in the space where I ruined, she painted me, so perfectly that I went inside her cell to see it better. From that point on I went to see her everyday, some days I would watch her paint, others we would talk and sometimes I would show her my artwork, wanting to get her approval."