After generations of men in the Giordano family, the idea of a baby girl was a mere dream.
So when their first and only princess was born, they believed they had found peace.
Finally, the world was extending an olive branch.
She doesn't remember a...
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My head hurts.
I try to flutter my eyes open, but it's like my eyelids are glued to each other.
Why the hell everything hurts so much?
I raise my hand mindlessly from where it rests on the bed, only to hit something hard.
My eyes shot open.
On the other side of my bed, right fucking next to me, was Rivo. He was in deep sleep and his hair was all up in his face, but it was definitely him.
What the fuck is he doing here-
And then everything came crashing back to me. Everything from digging my nails into my scar to Rivo finding me and... Bandaging me.
My fingers hovered above the soft material of the bandage, carful not to touch. And just like how yesterday's events flooded my mind, another name found its way in.
Viktor.
That's what got me so freaked out, and if I wasn't so fucking tired, I would've continued to freak out about him.
I want to slump back into the bed desperately, but the hand Rivo has around my shoulders reminds me of the stupid mistake I did last night.
I can't remember how much did I tell him, but I definitely remember I did. It's not like I meant to, I promised myself to never let any of them know about the things that happened, but I broke it in one weak moment.
That thought makes me want to throw up.
I try my best to not wake Rivo up as I climb off my bed. My feet feel heavy and my head keeps pounding in sync with my heart. Why did he even stay here?
I recognized the first aid kit Rivo used on the floor, and I gently took it with me to the bathroom. I closed the door as quiet as I can before mentally preparing myself to look in the mirror.
That didn't help, because the moment I laid my eyes on my reflection, I felt frustration tears well up in my eyes.
You can see the red of blood through the bandage, and fuck, the image immediately changed into a twelve year old me.
I remember the first time I was able to leave the hospital bed and look at the damage he caused, and I remember how I completely crumbled down.
My jaw clenched. Not this time.
Instead of the sadness I felt all those years ago, I feel anger. I feel angry as I splash water on my face in hope to clean the tears of last night, I feel pissed off as I brush my teeth to wash away the taste of blood in my mouth, and I feel really furious as I peel off the bandage on my neck.
It's been years, and yet he keeps tormenting me without even being here. Am I really that weak?
The wound is not pretty, not in the slightest, but at least stitches are not required. The blood stopped coming out, but holy shit was it still painful.
