Chapter 11

193 12 0
                                    

Your face it haunts my once pleasant dreams
Your voice it chased away all the sanity in me

▁▂▃▅▆▇▉▊▆▃▂▁

         Morning, despite all the preceding events, was set. After Pietro and I were kissing (!) under the moonlight, I safely slept another four hours and got up at seven. 


        I had been spinning in front of the mirror for twenty minutes and was trying to put a hairpin in thick hair. When I finally got it, I smiled at my reflection and just ran a brush with mascara on my eyelashes. E/c eyes sparkled with genuine joy, and a healthy glow appeared on my cheeks. 

       Today for some reason I wanted to be beautiful. 

       I took a peach dress out of the closet, and I ran my hand over soft and pliable chiffon. Gliding into it quickly, I adjusted the straps and put on the gold earrings. I had to tinker with my belt for a couple of minutes, but this didn't prevent me from going out to visit Wanda precisely at half past eight in the morning. 

       The shoes didn't seem to bother me, and the perfume didn't seem too sweet or tart - everything favoured me today. I knocked three times because I did not doubt that Pietro was already here.

      "Come in." As it turned out, she was already waking up and was chirping with might and foremost with her twin brother. 

        "Guten Morgen!" I almost sang and went inside. Bright morning light played on all glass surfaces and created an unforgettable picture. Wanda immediately smiled at me and held out her hands to meet me. Pietro grinned, but I almost ignored this attempt to somehow bring me down from that very measured and relaxed pace. Nearly. 

       "My God, Y/n!" she took my hand. "I don't know how to thank you."

        "First, try at least to move less," brushing away the tears of emotion, I tucked the veil over to her. God, I was so glad she was alive. Honestly, I can't even express my joy in words. "Secondly, I should thank you. Without you, nothing would have happened."

        After adjusting something on the rack with a drip, I pulled up a chair and sat down with the twins. We talked about some unimportant nonsense, and Pietro said some nonsense several times.

      Half an hour later I left, leaving Wanda to rest. I replaced my fancy shoes with plain white sneakers. The first thing I decided to go to the kitchen and cook something. It is bizarre that nothing bothered me at that moment. It seems like I need to worry about the fact that I have a chip in my brain that could control me and make me do really awful things. 

        But I didn't worry. 

        I even felt some guilt for not worrying about it — a strange feeling. 

        Wearing an apron, I began to look for the right ingredients for the cake. My stomach has not yet rumbled from hunger, so I have about an hour to cook. I just danced, adding more and more new ingredients, singing one of my favourite songs while cutting a turkey for pie. Soon it seemed to me that I wasn't alone in the room. Turning around, I screamed and dropped the knife from my hands. 

       "The fuck!" my heart was pounding from surprise. "Do not you dare to sneak up, Pietro!" 

        "I didn't think that it was so easy to scare you," he laughed, shagging with his thick hair. I sat down to raise the knife and turned back to him. 

         "Why did you come?" I lay out the dough precisely in the pan and stick them with high sides. 

         "Wanda fell asleep, and I got bored," he sat down at the bar counter and propped up his head with his hands. From this, his lips formed a "bow." 

Death In My Voice [Severe Editing Era] Where stories live. Discover now