Misunderstood
E L E O N O R A ' S P O V :
What is wrong with me?
I can't stop crying. I feel pathetic, annoying. I just.. can't stop. And I don't know why I can't.
When he grabbed me in his arms, I felt so safe that I couldn't stop myself from breaking down right then and there.
"I know baby." Papà hushes me. That only makes it worse. "You're okay." Well fuck. I'm never going to stop crying now.
I was already on edge then he touched me and I couldn't hold back. When he started speaking so softly to me, I became five-years-old again. Naïve and innocent.
It takes me a solid five or more minutes for my breathing to finally catch. I hiccup a response, "I'm so sorry." I am. I really am.
"Why?"
I let out a cackle. "Why?" I croak out.
"Yes. Why? You did nothing wrong."
His face is so utterly serious.
"Papà." I rasp out with my jaw slacked. "I tried to kill.. well my cousin."
"We both know what wasn't your choice." His warm, comforting hands cup my cheeks. I can't but lean into his touch. "Do not blame yourself."
I can't help but throw my arms around papà. My heart explodes. I haven't felt this much love in so fucking long.
I dig my head into his neck and papà rubs up and down my back. Papà mumbles sweet words to me, slowly rocking me back and forth, hushing me like I'm still a little girl.
"I love you papà." I confess.
My heart beats a thousand times in only a second.
A gentle kiss is placed o top of my head.
"I love you more than you could ever imagine, Ellie."
Soon, I feel myself drift off from the exhaustion, the stress my body has been under. Soon I fall asleep in my papà's arms.
• • •
The sun creaks through the window. I'm blinded by it for a moment. I groan, getting up.
I hate mornings.
"Buongiorno, piccolina."
I turn my head to him with a tired smile, I stretch my oddly sore limbs. Papà sits in the chair beside my bed, closing his computer, setting it to the side.
"Good morning."
"I think America stole my baby's voice." He jokes because my accent isn't as strong anymore.
"Fine." I playfully roll my eyes. "Buongiorno, papà." I say it in a playful tone, exaggerating my words.
He chuckles. "Perfetta." Papà says with a smile.
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