The El Gioorandine

CHAPTER 7

After waking up, much to her despair, a very painful part of her memory crawl in her dream last night, again. Causing her to breath unevenly, exhaling hot vapour and inhaling it again. Rushing to catch the air around her. Her heartbeat risen and she feel her body getting hotter and hotter in the come second.

Her hand searching for a glass of water. She groan, earning a raspy, hoarse voice from the woman. She drink the water in a fast pace. Hoping for her headache to go away. Slowly, her breath and heartbeat turn even. Her headache still there but her body become warm and not hot anymore.

She let out quite a loud growl. Knowing that this morning is going to be the same as yesterday or the day before, week before, month, or even year before. But today is different. She get that melancholy feeling today. It was crying silently inside her. She can feel it. Her heart has been barren from this melancholia for a very long time. She know what she need to do, to go.

After having a breakfast and deciding to skip her after breakfast tea, she walk out from the second door of the mansion. On the left side of the front block where she usually dine. She walk slowly along the aisle, past through the garden and avoiding the look her employees thrown at her.

She had a bucket that made out of paper and aluminium with her. The craft of whatever made out of paper, is one of the handcraft she like. She had a tons of that. Someone she know introduce it to her. Someone she miss dearly. Everyday. And, inside of it was flower petal. From the garden she past earlier. Place on her table after her morning bath.

She stop for awhile, watching the building in front of her. The north tower in her mansion. A bit further on the back. Far from anyone sight. Far from anyone, in fact. She rarely come here. Only when she feels the need to do so. Taking a deep breath, she decided to walk inside.

Turning on the light. Good thing, the electricity past until here. There was an old couch. A very old one. Having it since Umberto II of Italy take reign. Even though it was only for a month. A study desk with few pen scatter on it. A dusty Tiffany lamp and tons of art tools. Canvas and a ton of box with anything she do not feel the need to know.

She grip the start of the handrail. Stare at it. Walking one step at a time through the spiral stairs. She savour the moment in the tower because who knows when she will ever walk in here again. Each step she takes, it left a sting in her heart. A feel of thin needles slowly and surely get past your flesh. She feel anxious having to walk in here, even be in here.

Then, just then, when she doubting whether to go back or not, she arrive at the tower peak. Stop at the end of the stair and smoothly, with a heavy heart, steps on the floor. Doing so, she feels the atmosphere change. The kind of air, she thought to not feel anymore. She stand in the middle of the open space, closed by the tower wall.

"Hey, there. Beautiful. It's been a long time." She saw it then, the smile she always missed.

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Violet wake up when she heard some sort of muffled scream, she thinks? Or did she misheard it? She didn't know. She is fully awaken but does not open her eyes. She want to sink in the sleep again. Into the dream she had last night. Drown in the softness of the fabric and the warmth which she knows belongs to who.

She didn't dare open her eyes. She didn't want the warmth to go away. She wanted to keep being embrace by it. Soft snores caught by her ears became a lullaby pulling her back to sleep but she knows, she should sleep no more and open her eyes. Stare blankly at Lucas's face.

It has been exactly two weeks after the night Lucas fall asleep when hugging her. Since then, Lucas himself come to sleep here everyday. She protested to the idea when it first spoken to her. Really declining the thought of sharing the same bed. She didn't want to be close to him. That night was just coincidence that she somehow did not resist Lucas caressing her face.