CAILY GALILEO
Pietro had gone more crazy over the years. That was what this afternoon had showed me. That Pietro was crazier than what I had earlier known him to be.
In that moment while he told me he was going to kill everyone in the office, the look on his face had said to very clearly that he was not joking about it and the gun in his hand on broad daylight further cemented that fact!. The man in that moment would truly have killed everyone in that office.
But I had also come to realize one thing this afternoon too and I had no idea how I was supposed to feel about it.
Pietro would really do anything to keep me safe and Trisha was right when she said he would do anything for me. Just like he was taking me home right now.
‘HOME’.
Wasn’t that word a bit too much for me to use to point out Pietro’s home? When did his home become my home? When did his arms provide so much comfort? When did his gentle forehead kisses become so comforting? When did his mere presence make me feel so much at peace? When did he start feeling like home, like my own personal haven? A haven, that belonged to me and no one else.
I drew in a deep breath at my jumbled thoughts, nestling closer to him. I let the thoughts stay though and I allowed them sink in, assuring myself it was okay to think all sort of things in this moment.
I felt his lips on my forehead again and I snuggled even closer to him.
“We are home, Tesoro.” He whispered to me and I felt my heart flip.
Why was he calling me such a sweet name when my mind was already such a wholesome mess?
“Are we really home already?” I grumbled, my eyes still shut.
“Shall we go for another drive?” He replied me with a question but I shook my head.
“No, I want to go inside.” I mumbled and he gently pulled himself out of my grasp, making me open my eyes.
He stepped out of the car and lifted me into his arms again, an act that made my toes curl from the sweetness of it. How could the man who had threatened to kill over twenty people be so sweet to me? How… Just how?
I shut my eyes tightly and shook my head, not wanting to feel for a few minutes. For a few minutes, I just wanted to lose the ability to think. There was just too much to think about, too much to disagree with in my head and too much I could not properly disagree with.
As Pietro stepped into the living room, I slowly opened my eyes, still in his arms.
“I want to have a drink” I said to him.
“Nonsense. You can’t hold your alcohol.” He tsked.
“How do you know that?” I asked him, knowing for sure I had not had my first taste of alcohol by the time I left his home years back and that was also because of him.
Pietro sighed softly and gently dropped me on the sofa, settling me into it like I was a delicate and fragile baby that would break into pieces if he handled me a little bit more roughly.
“I might have lied when I said I had not touched you for nine years.” He gently removed my heel from my right foot and massaged my ankle a little bit.
“What do you mean?” I asked as he moved his hands gently to my left foot.
“On your eighteenth birthday, I was there.” He looked up at my face that was in utter surprise, his hand still gently holding my left foot.
“And you had your first taste of alcohol there. I watched as you got unbelievably drunk after two glasses.” He chuckled at the memory and I bit down on my lower lip, recalling that embarrassing night.
“I had to take you home after your alleged friends let you by the roadside to get home on your own. You were just too drunk to realize I had taken you home…” I stared into Pietro’s brown eyes and in that moment, I felt like I was being sucked into his world, a world he had built around mine.
“I…” My breath was too heavy for me to speak clearly.
“I saw you that night but… but I thought it was a dream. I thought it was just another of my dreams.” I palmed my face and took in a deep breath as my I recalled that moment.
Pietro tucking me in my bed and whispering that he had missed me. It had felt so much like a dream and I had been so fucking sure that it was one.
“You…” My voice cracked.
“Why are you overwhelming me so much?” I kept my hands to my face, grumbling put my words.
“I need the alcohol even more now, Pietro.” I drew in deep breaths and then let my hands down to look at him. Those light brown eyes stared back at me, almost innocently, like he still didn’t have a gun on him.
Yes… How could I be this calm in front of a armed man?
‘In front of an armed man who would never harm you’ my subconsciousness retorted and I groaned.
“I need the alcohol to cope with everything, Pietro. You, Mr. Trien, everyone, Aunt Mandy, and you yet again. I need the alcohol to not think about y’all especially you for a darn minute.” I pointed a finger at him.
“You are not drinking.” he said firmly, dropping his gaze to my ankle.
“Just a little, please.” I pouted but he remained unshaken.
“And I am here, what could possibly go wrong? I am just going to drink and go to sleep. And if I get drunk? You are here anyways.”
He tilted his head, staring at me for a few seconds before he sighed, giving in.
“Alright. Just a little.”
I nodded, a little too happily as he rose up to his feet from his crouched position and exited the living room to go get the drinks.
I sighed as soon as he was out of sight.
Did I like this? Did I like that he was watching me all these years? Did I like that he was probably there all along the way? Did I like that he was probably at every of my birthdays, watching me grow while I had no idea about his presence? Did I like that he could have shielded me from a lot of dangers all these years which I had zero clues about? Did I like all these…
“I don’t know!” I grumbled to kick the thoughts out of my head. At this point, in this current state I had no idea what I liked or disliked or hated.
But one thing was sure, there had only been a very thin line between my hatred for Pietro and me liking him a little bit. I hadn’t drawn that line boldly enough and something told me that I was going to regret not doing so. Maybe not now but in the nearest future, I was going to regret it A LOT.