Fatale

A Morning After

I blink open my eyes, sunlight peeking in from the window. I groan at the pain in my side, and I reach down, confused for a moment. And then I see Marco's sleeping form next to me, and last night comes rushing back.

The gunfire, the pistol, and Fiona on the ground.

I hurry up from the bed, my mind going too quickly for my groggy body to keep up. 

"Charlotte?" I look over to see Marco sitting up and sleepily rubbing his eyes. I just stare at him, and I don't know what to feel. 

I want to tell him everything, but at the same time, I'll lose him, and I might lose Fiona. 

"I need to go see her, Marco." I whimper, hugging my arms tightly. He cocks his head to the side, and I see the sorrow and apology in his eyes. 

"Don't apologize again, Marco. You couldn't have known." I whisper, moving to sit on the edge of the bed next to him. He reaches out to me, his fingertips lightly brushing against my temple. I close my eyes and allow myself to lean into his hand, the large and warm surface like a stuffed animal, needed for comfort. 

It's odd to me. The trust I feel in him so quickly. I barely know him, he barely knows me, but the way he jumped in front of my body, pushed me away from danger, and helped Fiona all foster this sense of...something. 

"I'll call down soon to see how she's doing, and if we can go visit her." He whispers, removing his hand from my face and placing his hand in mine.

I smile over at him, grateful. For everything. 

"Who is she?" He asks. 

I stop for a moment, almost scared of the question. What can I tell him, what can't I tell him? 

"What is it?" He whispers. 

I inhale deeply. 

"Fiona is the only thing in my life close to family." I look down at my hands, at the way his calloused fingers wrap around mine, and how it looks so small compared to his. 

He doesn't say anything, waiting for me to continue.

"She...she came into my life when I had no one. Nothing. She picked me up and gave me my life back, the life that I never thought I could have." I make sure to keep it vague, but it's hard. I want to spill every detail. 

Marco just nods. I have to remember that he has secrets too, ones he won't tell me. And in a way, that makes us even. 

We're silent for a moment, and that moment is broken by my stomach growling. I flush red with embarrassment but Marco just smiles, his eyes still sleepy, his hair still messy. If life had been different, if we had met in some bar, some party somewhere. If only. 

"Come on, let's get you fed." He whispers, standing up from the bed with me, but not letting go of my hand. 

He moves to pick up the sweatpants I hadn't put on from last night and hands them to me. 

With a chuckle, I push them back to him.

"There is no way that those won't fall off, Marco." 

His eyes flash to my legs, and I watch his jaw clench but release quickly after. 

Leading me down the hallway, I'm able to see the mansion in the daylight. I scan my eyes over the wooden framed paintings, the silver chandeliers, the cold wood tiles under my bare feet. 

I follow him down the stairs, and freeze. A group of man stands in the foyer, all dressed in blue and black suits, all speaking loudly in Italian.