The Art of a Pickpocket

Chapter 10: Luca

I must have startled the old man with my scream as he rushed to me alarmed. "What is it dear?" he asked, prying the pillow from my grip.

"Why the tears?" he continued making himself comfortable on the other side of the bed. I moved away a little, to create space for him.

"N-nothing." I managed to say, wiping my tears with the neckline of my tank top. "I-I'm fine."

"Here." the man said, holding out a tissue pack. I mumbled my thanks, drying my eyes with it.

"If you want to talk about something, I'm always here okay?", "I've got ears," he said, pulling out his ears with his forefinger and thumb, making weird faces at me and laughing quietly.

"Sure." I managed to giggle and the room fell silent once again.

"Your bruises..." he said after a long pause, breaking the silence. I turned my arm to inspect them. They weren't really bad, just a few scratches with dried blood on them.

"There's a first aid kit in one of the cabinets in the bathroom, you can use them. I think you should also take your shower now then we have breakfast hm?" he said with a small smile.

"Yeah yeah", I said, slightly embarrassed as I got up from the bed and headed towards the only closed door in the room which i assumed was probably the bathroom.

I quietly shut the door behind me and turned the lock, after confirming my safety, I slowly turned back to face the mirror.

What I saw didn't surprise me at all, not in the least, but I couldn't believe this figure belonged to me.

I looked pale, my eyes had literally sunk into their sockets, with swollen little veins appearing in it's corners, huge dark bags beneath my eyes, a few bruises scattered over my skin and my long dark hair completely dishevelled.

In short, I looked fucked up.

I'd never looked like this before, not even when mom and dad died or when Max abandoned me a few weeks to delivery. I'd never looked so broken, so lost, so empty I don't even know what to feel anymore.

When Max left, Akira was all I was left with. She was the closest I had to calling a family. She became a part of me, a big part even, and slowly, as she grew each day, her presence kinda healed my wounds.

She gave me a reason to live, to continue breathing many times I felt like giving up and let death consume me.

And now she was gone.

My life source.

Gone.

My greatest enemy had won and all I could do was to stand here staring at my goddamned self in the mirror crying.

Like a baby.

My blood coarsed through my veins with speed and my jaw ticked.

I was loosing my temper.

My pupils had turned a darker shade and
I clenched my fists, shutting my eyes and straining myself from crying.

An image of Max flashed before my eyes, his dark green eyes, blonde hair and that goofy smile of his spread on his face. My eyes flew open.

You son of a bitch.

"I swear I'll find you Max, and I'll kill you myself." I whispered, my body shaking with rage, my gaze unwavering from my image in the mirror.

Just then a voice came from the door, "Are you alright in there?"

"Yes, yes, everything is fine in here," I replied, coming down from my high.

"Okay then, going to make breakfast." he said, his footsteps retreating.The door was closed and silence came once more.

Slowly, I peeled off my clothes off me and set them to the side. I examined my bruises once again and hopped into the shower.

After treating my bruises, I stepped out to find a pair of shorts and a hoodie and slipped them on. I kept my hair in a bun and headed out to the kitchen.

I took a seat as he served me my plate of pancakes. "Thanks" I mumbled, as he took his seat and we ate in silence.

"You never told me what your name was." he said, breaking the silence.

"Lyla sir, my name is Lyla." I answered. "And you are?"

"Luca" he responded.

"Uh.... about last night..", I cleared my throat, uncertain of how to ask the question.

"What happened to me last night?" I blurted out.

"About last night..... Well I was driving home from work real late when I saw what looked like a body on the street." he said, wiping the corners of his mouth with a tissue and continued.

"At first, I thought you had been murdered in cold blood and I hesitated in helping you since I didn't want to have anything to do with the police." he paused, staring at me, his face expressionless.

"So I passed by, but my conscience wouldn't let me. I guess that's the consequence of being a good man." He joked, but I was far too concentrated on what he was saying that it didn't quite sink in.

"So... I came back to get you and realised there weren't any serious injuries so murder or robbery attack was ruled out, probably passed out or hit by a car or something. I carried you to my car and drove you home and here we are." He finished, stretching his arms for emphasis.

"Why didn't you take me to a - ". "It would have been more complicated." He cut me of with an answer and he was right.

"Right." I nodded.

"What about you, what were you doing unconscious in the middle of the street at 1am in the morning?" he asked.

Just then images from last night flashed over my eyes again, and I began to tremble.

"Hey...," he said softly, getting up from his seat, and pulling me into a hug. "I'm sorry for asking yeah? I just wanted to know."

"It's fine," I managed to say within sobs, "I'll tell you."

He handed me a tissue paper and I dried my eyes. At this time, we had already moved to the couch and I curled myself into it, hugging my legs.

"I am a pickpocket." I started slowly. I expected him to shift uncomfortably in his seat or something but nothing happened, he remained still, listening to me.

"My parents died in a plane crash when I was little and I was sent to an orphanage." I hadn't told this to anyone again apart from Max and it felt like I was reliving those moments all over.

"The orphange went up in flames one night and all had to flee for their lives so I was homeless again. I lived on the streets for a very long time, a great part of my childhood actually. We were trained by the older boys on the streets the art of pickpocket, the art to control the mind and the eyes of our victims without their knowledge and steal from them silently." I paused, taking a deep breath.

"Through that, I made a living. I found love on these same streets and all didn't go so well. Long story short, he disappeared a few days to my delivery. It was a girl, Akira, she looked almost like her father if not exactly. I got a job at A&C Company Limited about a month ago as a PA, but her father wouldn't leave me. Visits, anonymous notes and so on till last night, when I came back from the range to find Akira gone." The final part jabbed at my heart and I couldn't help but break down again.

I cried hard unto my lap until I felt his arm around me again, soothing me. Somehow, I allowed him to pull me into a hug, it felt comfortable and we stayed like that for long.

A/N. Another chapter updated. Please vote, comment and share. Please follow @ deterii.

Love♡