MAGDALENA
It was dark when I heard the car outside. I didn't bother eating when I came back with my 'guard' whose name I'd since learnt was Leonardo. Not that I cared. He backed off while I gave the food to the kids earlier and made sure to keep his distance. That made him much more likable.
Living a life of privelage meant me not pursuing my truest passions. Papá hated the idea of his daughter being an artist, but I loved to paint and he thought it was beneath us. It made me feel like an ornament, very much like how I felt sitting in this room right now. All of them were the same. It didn't matter what family they came from, all made men thought of was owning their wives and adjusting their lives to suit them. You were supposed to just look pretty, let them sleep with you and then you bear their kids. All these plans were already set in stone. I wondered if this was what Mammá was so afraid of becoming. Was this the same reason why she and Nonna didn't see eye to eye? Because Mammá dared to rebel and live according to her own rules? I would never know and those are just questions I would have to live with for the rest of my life.
It was a warm evening, so I'd already showered and dressed into a black slip dress with lacy detail at top where a little of my cleaveage was revealed. He hadn't made love to me yesterday, did I even stand a chance tonight? I even applied some of that pretty Jasmine scented oil against my wrists and neck. I'd read a book about the art of seduction since I'd never been with a man and some of the things they had described made my cheeks burn. My dark hair was tied in a low bun at the nape of my neck with a black ribbon.
There was the sound of faint voices downstairs for a brief moment and then the heavy footfalls had me sitting up straight where I was at the front of the bed.
Damien walked in and I tried to look busy by studying a book I'd gotten about vintage Italian art, but I'd failed miserably, so I just drew my eyes up to him and the second I did, a gasp loud enough for everyone to hear escaped my throat.
He had dry blood on the front of his white shirt and his face was messed with it too, especially the area around his nose.
Seeing my brother like this on numerous occasions, except much less bloody than Damien, had me going into instinctive mode as I rushed over to him. I kept my hands at my sides unsure of how to touch him. Or if he even wanted me to touch him. Our physical contact at this moment was at a bare minimum.
"What happened?" I asked.
He instead gave me a quick once over, his dark eyes sweeping over my length, as if he was undressing me infront of him with only his eyes. Well...the dress did leave little to anyone's imagination and realizing that made my skin prickle with goosebumps.
"I'm fine," is all he said, before he walked around me. "Isabelle told me you didn't eat today. Why not?"
I didn't respond because Damien didn't deserve a response. Not until he responded to my questions.
Instead, I headed to the bathroom and grabbed a small white towel off a silver hook near the shower and then ran the tip of it under warm water.
When I turned around Damien was sitting at the front of the bed, where I was just sitting a few minutes ago, minus his shirt which was now on the floor.
His arms were on either side of him, his broad shoulders and wide chest showing off just how muscular he was. I swallowed hard as I walked towards him and when I was finally in front of him, I stopped breathing completely.
Damien stared at the towel in my hands and then brought his eyes up to meet mine. We were inches away as I brought the warm, wet cloth up to his face and lightly dabbed the dry blood away. He didn't flinch once and kept his eyes pinned on me. It was so quiet, I had become self-conscious of heavy I was breathing. I dared myself to look into his eyes and for a moment, there was no darkness in them. His facial features were relaxed. His mouth slightly parted.
Before I knew what I doing, I leaned forward and pressed my lips against his. He was warm and his breath smelled of whiskey.
Very gently, I'd eased my tongue into his mouth and the second it touched his, a deep moan escaped my lips. My pussy began to throb at its own accord as I tasted Damien and he resiprocated, gently tugging my bottom lip into his mouth. Neither of us were touching, but the electricity between us had sparked a feeling deep in the pit of my stomach. My body leaned into his, begging to be touched.
But almost as soon as the kiss had started, Damien pulled away harshly, his teeth roughly grazing my bottom lip as he did. I ran my tongue over my bottom lip and tasted the blood.
"Did I do something wrong?" My voice with thick, and I could feel the tears at the back of eyes threatening to break free.
"Now is not a good time." He grabbed the towel from me and I stood back as he got up and stalked off into the bathroom.
I brushed the tears away as they fell and climbed into my end of the bed, curling my legs up as I watched the curtains dance with the warm breeze. The last thing I thought of was Mammá singing a song for me. It was old, but I still remembered the words.
Batti batti le manine
Che son belle e piccoline
Son piccoline come te.. 1, 2, 3!
Clap clap your little hands
that are beautiful and small
Small like you…1, 2, 3!
She would sing those rhymes to me when I was a little girl and I'd fall asleep to the words. I wished for her arms then to be caressing me or for her to be there to advise me and tell me how to navigate this crazy new world. Damien wasn't happy about our union for some reason and why he was so cold to me was beyond my understanding. Nonna told me about how Papá had loved Mammá. She was his entire world. If Damien wasn't happy with me, why entrap me in his world? For what sick purpose?
The bathroom door opened and faint light spilled into the room and then the door closed and we were plunged back into darkness.
Damien got into his side of the bed and I felt him go still for a really long moment as if he wasn't even breathing. I held the little cross I was wearing around my neck and let out a soft sigh. He moved then, and I hesitantly turned my head slightly to see his back facing me.
I wished to reach out and touch him, but I kept my knuckles around the cool sheets as I felt sleep pull at my eyelids.