In My Hands, Know Suffering

36: Someone Does

Certain promises were the poems of a lullaby that coveted fulfillment. They were the kind of words that are easily severed, but were hard to mend. Yet for thoughts that traveled faster than a bullet, it was only within possible reach. That was, if the world ever tried to correct its failures.

People loved a good distraction. Things that kept their mind afloat, memories only they can recall. Gatherings where people could blend with society to escape the stresses of the works they had to accomplish, raising glasses and cheers. Distractions were also good during awkward moments, especially if someone couldn't come up with anything that was good for word.

The silence between them hung for quite a while. Abrielle, having calmed down after her small tirade, watched from her bed as Castellone distracted himself by the room's small pantry. After asking for permission to use it, he appeared to be preparing something, anything from the scraps they had left.

She looked away, glancing at the notes by the desk. She wondered how many days passed since then. How was she able to keep up? To face society? To make up for the stolen lives of the innocence engulfed within such abusive institution?

Yustaine told her that another being was within Castellone. She shouldn't have doubted the executioner's right hand. Yustaine wouldn't lie about sensing abilities from a person. But that didn't really linger long with her. She already knew, the first time Castellone smiled, that there was something wrong with him.

Maybe the right thing she should have done then was to avoid him, but being the sociable side he painted, she couldn't make it to the finish line. It was all because she had fallen for him. That was her mistake in the first place, but something begged to differ now.

"Abrielle."

With the mention of her name, she looked up and met his cerulean gaze that have haunted her senseless. It felt like a new experience as their eyes met. A refreshing one. There was no display of his usual expressions, it was just plain Castellone.

Castellone handed her a hot bowl of vegetable broth with egg accompanied by french bread. She stared at it like it was the first time she's had any. The smoke coming off the soup evaded her face, making her cheeks unintentionally turn red in the process. She was still just looking without touching it.

"You look too skinny, so I thought...you know."

Abrielle shifted her gaze at him, eyes wide. No one has ever cooked for her except her parents, she didn't even know how. She was deprived of utilizing the kitchen even as a child, in the midst of Sievetech. She hadn't been eating properly for the past days too. By doing that, what exactly did he want?

He settled at the bed across her and looked around the room. Her gaze followed his meticulous eyes wherever it landed. To the ceiling and the pin lights, to the desk and the shelves, to the photos of her and Siniyah hanging against the wall. Until his gaze went back to her. They were just sharing each others gazes, like there was no barrier. Nothing was obstructing what they've decided to break down.

Castellone looked at the food he gave her then nodded at it. "It's gonna get cold if you don't have it now."

Abrielle glanced back at the bowl. It begged her to dig in so she had to at least try a spoon. She remembered the days her mother would make her favorite meal, she did loved her cooking and she missed it dearly. After trying someone else's, she just had to take another bite. Was he always this good at it? It surprised her.

On the contrary, if this was his way of getting further closer to her, she wasn't ready to forgive him yet. She didn't want to speak the words that would render his fault null. Not just yet. He would have to wait.