"Valentina," a voice called out softly from behind me, interrupting the solemn silence of my room. Instantly, my body went rigid with fear, a chill spreading through me as the familiar sound wrapped around my consciousness. My hands became numb, betraying the chaos inside. Footsteps approached steadily, each one echoing in my mind as I sat motionless in the creaky chair at my desk, surrounded by a sea of scattered papers and half-finished sketches.
"Can we talk?" The voice was tainted with a mix of concern and familiarity, yet my mind struggled to place it. I hesitated, the air thick around me, before slowly turning to meet the gaze of the person standing behind me. My heart skipped a beat when my eyes locked onto those of my older brother, Rocco. The tension in my shoulders began to dissipate as relief washed over me—he was just my brother, not someone here to bring me harm.
I nodded slowly, feeling my heartbeat gradually return to its normal rhythm. Rocco's face broke into a small, inviting smile that usually brought comfort. He leaned in slightly, his hand reaching toward my hair in a playful gesture, ready to ruffle it like he used to. But as he made contact, an involuntary flinch surged through me, and I recoiled from his touch. In the span of a heartbeat, his playful demeanor shifted to one of hurt, a shadow crossing his features that twisted a pang of guilt in my chest.
I felt an internal struggle brewing. A quiet part of me yearned to speak, to express how deeply sorry I felt for retreating from him, for flinching away despite knowing he meant no harm. I knew how much it would mean to him to hear my voice, especially after spending two long months in silence, my only recent interaction being a brief conversation with Libby a few days ago. A wave of longing washed over me; I wanted to return the comfort my brothers once provided me.
Yet, an escalating panic clawed at the edges of my mind, whispering that I was teetering on the edge of a decision. As I glanced toward the safety of my bathroom, fear threatened to pull me into its depths, urging me to hide away from this confrontation.
Rocco's expression remained pained, the silence between us stretching so thin it felt suffocating. Each passing second intensified my urge to bolt. I shifted my gaze between him and the bathroom door, my heart racing. He noticed my unease, his brow furrowing with confusion at my darting glances.
Run.
Suddenly, I stood, the chair scraping against the floor as I hurried toward the bathroom, my heart pounding like a drum in my chest. But just as I reached the door, I noticed movement behind me. Rocco sprang from his place, his face a picture of worry. "Val, I'm sorry! I wasn't trying to make you sad. Please stay." His voice was a mixture of urgency and desperation, pulling at my heartstrings.
My silence hung heavily in the air; I stared at him, torn between wanting to trust his words and feeling an overwhelming sense of distrust.
"I was just shocked," He continued, his voice softer now, laced with vulnerability. "I'm still not used to not being able to comfort or touch you like I used to."
Nodding slowly, I absorbed his words. They resonated with a flicker of understanding, yet my fear still had a firm grip on me.
"I swear, I'm not angry or upset with you," He insisted, his eyes earnest and pleading. "I just wanted to ruffle your hair like I always did. It hurt when you flinched away from me. Did you think I would hurt you?"
The truth was, deep down, I knew he would never intentionally hurt me. But the instinctive reactions of my mind and body often contradicted that knowledge, leaving me feeling helpless to control them. I shrugged, a gesture steeped in uncertainty.
"I would NEVER hit you or hurt you in any way," Rocco declared, his voice trembling with sincerity. "It would kill me if I ever tried to harm you. The very thought of it is unbearable."
A flicker of hope ignited within me as I grabbed a notepad from my cluttered desk, the paper feeling cool against my fingertips. I began to write with shaky hands: 'Promise?'
Without hesitation, he nodded earnestly. "Yes, of course. It's the easiest promise I've ever made. I promise you that now and forever."
A small, fragile smile crept onto my face, one that felt forced but was needed all the same. Guilt washed over me again for flinching, for doubting him, even when my heart insisted he meant no harm.
'Okay.' I wrote, a tentative first step toward rebuilding the bridge between us.
"Can I hug you?" He asked, his voice slightly trembling with an eagerness that he was trying hard to mask. The determined look on his face revealed his intent; he wanted closeness, but there was a quiet vulnerability hidden beneath his confident facade. If I were to say no, I knew he would bury his feelings deep inside, keeping his hurt concealed. I nodded, slowly opening my arms, and as soon as I did, he practically rushed into my embrace.
The moment our bodies connected, my muscles instinctively tensed, sending a gentle wave of apprehension through me. But as the seconds ticked by, the warm weight of his body began to soothe my tension, melting it away. He could undoubtedly sense the tightness in my frame, but out of compassion, he chose to ignore it. It was probably for the sake of both our feelings, maintaining this fragile moment together.
Rocco and Romeo had a special knack for hugging that set them apart from everyone else I knew. Their hugs were like a comforting blanket on the coldest days—safe, enveloping, and warm. Even now, despite my initial reluctance, I couldn't help but revel in the solace their bear hugs brought me, an undeniable truth I had tried to deny in the past.
He wrapped his long, muscular arms around me, pulling me firmly yet gently against his chest. His chin rested atop my head, a reassuring weight that grounded me in the moment. Then, with surprising tenderness, he pressed a soft kiss to my forehead. "I hate seeing you in so much pain, Val." He whispered, his voice barely above a murmured sigh, almost lost in the quiet of the room. I hugged him tighter, relishing this stolen slice of time together, not ready to part from this feeling of safety.
But as I held him, a wave of emotions surged within me, and my eyes betrayed my composure, growing misty with unshed tears. I was acutely aware that he might despise the seemingly endless need for reassurance and comfort that I clung to, a constant reminder of my fragility. Though he often expressed love and concern, a voice inside me questioned their sincerity. I couldn't shake the feeling that I was an unwelcome burden to both him and Romeo.
Rocco pulled back slightly, his intense gaze searching my face as if seeking to read my thoughts. He brushed away the few tears that had slipped down my cheeks and cradled my face gently in his hands. Then, without hesitation, he settled back down on my bed, drawing me onto his lap. He began to rub my back in soft, circular motions, each stroke designed to soothe the tangled mess of emotions roiling inside me. "It's okay to cry, Val. Let it out if you need to. I'm here, and I promise I'm not going anywhere." He said softly, each word laced with sincerity.
I shook my head vigorously, a frantic denial escaping my lips. I didn't want to cry; I didn't want to be vulnerable, especially not in front of him or anyone else. My tears were a private affair, reserved for the solitude of my room where no one could witness my weakness.
Rocco nodded as if he truly understood my dilemma, the weight of my feelings not lost on him. "Romeo and I will protect you from whatever it is that's causing you pain. We'll do anything to shield you from it. You know we love you, right?"
I hesitated for a moment but eventually nodded, wrapping my arms around his neck to pull him closer. He responded by enveloping me in his warmth, holding me securely, making me feel like I had a refuge in a world that often felt too heavy.