peach flavoured ✔

𝑒𝓁𝑒𝓋𝑒𝓃

Hi again, the aftermath of self harm is in this chapter, that might be helpful to know

Marcello reached the front door of his mansion, in his hands was a box with a bow around it, fancier than he was used to, but that was okay. As long as it brightened the smile on his Bambi's face.

He smiled slightly at the thought.

As he entered, he spotted a crying, whimpering Cosette nose crooked and bleeding, cradling her hand and talking dramatically to one of her minions. Upon spotting him, she let out a cry of fright and scuttled away.

Raising a brow in question, he went up to his room, only to find it empty.

Placing the box on the bedside table, he checked the bathroom door only to find it locked.

"Bambi?" He knocked on the door to no reply, "Bambina! Open up!"

Silence.

He scowled, why wasn't she listening to him? He jiggled the door handle before getting his gun out and shooting the handle, which effectively allowed him to open it.

His eyes widened, taking in the sight before him.

This ruthless man, who had never felt fear, felt it all crash into him, as if someone had grabbed a poisoned dagger and stabbed it into his chest, stopping his heart, and dragging down, ripping up his insides - he couldn't breathe.

Bambina was leaning up against the wall, arms coated in red, blood dripping onto her bare legs.

It felt as if his heart stopped.

Her face was pale, eyes closed, and blue mouth parted.

She looked dead.

He rushed to her side and picked her up in his arms, running to the medical room.

He had only met her a couple of months ago, but he'll be damned if he never gets to see her smile again, or see her open eyes and look at him with her large brown orbs.

"Help her." He demanded the nurses who gasped at the sudden intrusion.

Placing her softly on a hospital bed as the nurses jumped into action, he softly grabbed her small hand, laboured breaths escaping him as he restrained himself from killing every single person in the building, especially the nurses, who, though doing the best they could, seemed too slow in his eyes.

\(-~-)/

Constant beeping noises woke Bambina up as she was assaulted by the memories of her past.

She was still alive, damn it.

Opening her eyes only caused her to shut them again because of the bright light shining above her. She took a deep breath and tried again, slowly this time.

Taking in her surroundings, she noticed Marcello and her heart warmed, and the butterflies began to play a wrestling game in her stomach. His head was laid beside her shoulder, hair flopping over his eyes, and his usual smirk was gone, a peaceful expression instead. Both of his giant hands gripping the tiny hand that was attached to the arm that didn't have an IV sticking out of it.

She slipped her hand out of his strong grip and tried to sit up - to no avail. Both forearms were bandaged, and because of the loss of blood, she felt woozy.

The unstable state brought her mind back to her past, her mind unable to restrain it from coming to the forefront of her brain.

Bambina's father had just said those words, and she immediately changed.

It wasn't something she could stop, it was like her whole mindset changed. She no longer cared for the safety of anything, she was just filled with this emotionless void.

Was it bad that she liked it?

That she tended to crave the days that her dad 'activated' her?

A bit morbid isn't it?

She looked up at her padre and he gave her an accomplished smile - he, along with everyone else believed that once 'deactivated', Bambina completely blocked out what she'd done, what she was made to do, but he was wrong.

Bambina only tried her best to pretend that those things didn't plague her thoughts, covering it with a fake smile, and feigning ignorance.

She saw how worried and concerned her mother got when she was 'activated', so Bambina pretended that she never realised what she did, to keep her mind at ease and to keep her happy.

But after a while, she didn't have to pretend that those things didn't plague her thoughts, because in all honesty, they didn't, they no longer gave her nightmares, they no longer bothered her.

But to this day, Bambina hated herself for it, she hated that she could just slip into it so easily, she hated that she didn't mind death, violence.

She was only 18 and she could kill someone without batting an eye. She hated that she could just turn off her feelings whenever.

She looked to her right and her mouth gaped open as she spotted Marcello looking at her as if he were studying her.

"Bambi, what's wrong?" He looked concerned, and only then did she realise that her facade had slipped, her lips lifted in a smile and she forced herself to only think of happy moments as she tilted her head to the side, feigning confusion. 

But little did she know, it was too late, the little seed of confusion and questions had been planted because from the slip up that she had.

"Nothing, everything is fine." Her voice came out scratchy and Marcello was quick to hand her a glass of water. 

The water was ice cold and felt like she was swallowing a cup of mini knives. 

"Are you okay?" He continued to study her.

"I feel great," she mustered up a wide smile that she hoped would convince him.

Looking away from his scrutinising gaze and staring at the ceiling, Bambina realised that she had ended laying on the bed again. She could still feel the heat of his eyes on her face.

"How long was I out?" Bambina questioned, letting out a timid voice and biting her lip.

"Two weeks," the answer was concise and she felt as if she had been punched in the stomach - which she knew what felt like.

"I missed two weeks of school?" Bambina gasped and sat up, no longer feeling sick or woozy in any way.

"Careful, you might hurt yourself again," he held her shoulders carefully.

"I'm fine." Bambina replied, pulling out the IV and hopping out of the bed, she turned to face a shocked Marcello, "I have to see my zia," she continued and rushed out of the room, hearing the screech of his chair as he stood and began to go after her.

What does he want with me?