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~ phoenix ~

At some point I must have fell asleep out there because the next thing I knew was that I was being carried inside.

His strong grip brought back harsh memories - memories I was struggling to forget.

When I was tucked beneath the sheets, I remembered what it felt like to be warm. The heat was irresistable. Ilya's hard body slid behind me, pulling me carefully to his chest. I lay stiff, feeling my heart race.

Relax, I told myself.

The rough thumb that traced circles on my cold thigh helped slightly. The softness reminded me exactly who he was.

He would never hurt me, not intentionally.

Sighing, I felt my back begin to slightly arch towards him.

No, actually he could hurt me. He could break me. But he'd be the only one to heal me too.

"I'm so sorry, baby," I heard in my ear.

A gentle kiss was pressed against my hair.

Mustering all my courage, I rolled to face him, hesitantly looking up. I was relieved to find his eyes were the same glittering silver that I'd fallen in love with.

The thumb on my leg rose to caress my cheek.

Ilya met my gaze. I found guilt and sorrow in it, a hollow sadness that matched my own.

"Me too," I murmured eventually.

Slowly, he craned his neck, bringing his lips to mine. I welcomed the kiss, wanting his love to wash away the dried tears. The arms that had been stiff at my side, rose to his chest, scrunching the material of his t-shirt.

A dull ache appeared as I moved them. Furrowing my brows, I ignored it.

Sensing my discomfort, he pulled back, eyes scanning my body, and winced. I glanced to what had stolen his attention.

Like I'd predicted, there was a large dark bruise where his fingers had pressed before on my arm.

Grabbing his chin, I forced his eyes back to mine.

"It's okay," I whispered, softly, "it's okay."

Contorting with pain, Ilya's face turned away from mine. "I did that to you."

Pulling him back, my fingers found the fist that had smashed into Rina's door. Dried blood marred the broken skin.

"And I did this to you. I'm sorry, Ilya."

Clenching the fist, he snatched it from my grasp. "I-I was just so scared. They were-" And like he'd done before, his words were suddenly cut off by a sharp breath.

Seeing as he kept turning away from me, I used his chest to push me up on top. Straddling his waist, I grabbed his face, keeping it on mine.

"The Italians?" I asked with concern.

Ilya blew another breath, staring at me with mixed emotions. "It's fine-"

"Tell. Me."

Eyes trained on his, I pinned all my weight on him so he couldn't escape. Perhaps he could, but I would be prepared to fight again. He had to open up.

"Yes, the Italians," he admitted finally.

Sighing a breath I didn't know I was holding, I closed my eyes.

I found her eventually on the roof.

Mrs Fioretti always complained when she found us on the roof, repeating how unsafe it was. Today, almost tumbling in my homecoming dress, I understood her concern.

𝑅𝑒𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑃ℎ𝑜𝑒𝑛𝑖𝑥 ✔︎ ||  𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑝𝑙𝑒𝑡𝑒𝑑Where stories live. Discover now