Infiltrate [3] - very slow updates

23 | Paisley

Warning - slight racist talk at end of chapter.

Alessio pulls up outside a deserted shed, the walls rusted and chunks missing from the old building. The tin walls are weathered with age, a thick layer of leaves coating the tin roof.

I open the car door, my eyes staying glued to the place as I exit the car.

Alessio appears beside me, his fingers brushing mine before his hand curls into his side.

I pretend not to notice.

He nods his head towards the decrepit shed and starts walking towards it, silence wafting off him like a cologne.

I follow as he holds the door open for me.

I keep my curiosity at bay as we enter and he shits the door behind me.

My eyes sweep the area, a door opposite me ajar with scratch marks down the bottom of the door. Probably from the wildlife.

The room is pretty clean, leaves the only thing dotting the concrete floor.

Finally I give in and turn to Alessio.

"What is this place?"

"Somewhere. . ." He pauses, searching for the word, "peaceful"

My gaze catches his, the questioning look in his eyes causing a smile to lift my lips.

"I can work with peaceful."

His eyes light up slightly as he walks further in, opening the scratched door for me. I follow in behind him.

"Enzo and I come here to get away, sometimes we stay here for a few days." He directs to the worn lounge in the corner of the room. The windows are boarded up, warmth seeping into my bones as I walk further in. A carpet sits on the floor, pillows in a circle.

A small kitchen is in the corner, a sink sitting on top.

"The water is about the only thing that works in this place."

"You sleep here?"

He pauses. "Sometimes."

I don't ask the question at the tip of my tongue, though it takes more will power than I'm willing to admit.

Why?

I walk forward, fingers skimming the couch before taking a seat. I look up at Alessio as he stares down at me.

"Are you going to sit?"

He moves, sitting beside me.

I take his hands in mine, looking around.

"Do you have a first aid kit?"

"Why, are you back to being my personal doctor?"

"Well, when you keep hurting yourself I have no choice but to be your doctor."

He chuckles before getting up. He walks to the back of the couch and I lean over as he picks up a torn bag from the ground.

"This is the best I've got?" He question as he hands it over.

I look in but all I see is a handful of bandaids.

I give him an eye roll and stand up, looking around for a rag of some sort.

"You said the sink works?" I ask distracted, glancing over at the old sink.

"Yeah, why?"

"We need to clean the wounds, do you have a towel or rag I can use?"