Page 130 of Monster in Disguise

"Could you possibly come a bit closer?" she whispers, pulling out a white cloth from her pocket with delicate fingers.

Curiosity piqued, I inch forward and peer at the cloth in her hand.

"It's for cleaning your wounds," she explains gently, gesturing for me to come nearer.

I press my face between the pickets, feeling her soft touch as she tenderly wipes away dirt and debris from my injuries. A sharp sting makes me flinch as she applies disinfectant, but she giggles and continues her diligent work.

Lost in her careful ministrations, I watch her with awe and reverence. Never before has anyone shown such care towards my wounds – and I've had more than my fair share.

Without thinking, I stop her hand just as it nears my injured eye. Bringing it to my lips, I place a kiss on her knuckles in a simple gesture of gratitude.

"Thank you," I say again, not caring how many times I repeat myself or how vulnerable this action makes me feel. In this moment, I am thankful to her in a way that I never thought possible.

She blushes but doesn't pull away from my touch.

We sit there for a while longer before she finally tells me that she must leave. But before she does, she surprises me with an unexpected question.

"Will you return?" Her words shock me to the core.

I can't find the words to answer her, and thankfully she doesn't press for one.

For the next couple of days, I religiously make my way to our designated meeting spot at the same time, every day. She arrives bearing medicine and food, as well as her comforting presence. We spend our time together discussing mundane topics, but for me, it's a welcome escape from reality.

She has no clue of my identity or the profound impact she has on me. Her innocent ignorance is a blessing and a curse.

Little does she know, I am about to face the consequences of yearning for something that will always be just out of reach.

PRESENT-DAY

A trail of tears cascades down her cheeks as I recount the painful details to her. I hold back the more vulnerable parts, like the bruises and scars that were inflicted upon me that day, or the fact that my love for her had made me seem weak in my father's eyes. And how he had taken advantage of that weakness in the worst way possible.

"I... I don't know what to say," she whispers, using the back of her hand to wipe away her tears. "Why didn't you come for me?"

"I didn't think I was worthy of you. My past... it's not pretty." It's a half-truth, but if she knew the real reason... I can't even imagine what would happen. But even though I stayed away, she never left my thoughts for a single day.

"Marcello..." The sound of her saying my name is like a balm to my soul. She has the power to heal me, but also the power to destroy me.

"Are you angry?"

"Angry? Why would I be angry?"

"Because I kept this from you." Her forgiveness means everything to me.

Her head shakes from side to side, her soft gaze never leaving mine. "No... no," she repeats, her voice gentle and full of understanding. "I could never be angry with you. But I do have some questions." She nestles in closer to me, resting her head on my chest. "How is it that you fell in love with me based on just a few brief interactions? It's just... unexpected. Not that I'm complaining, of course. I couldn't be happier to know you feel the same way." Her last words are spoken softly, almost shyly.

"It was simple, really. When all you've ever known is cruelty, the one person who shows you kindness becomes your entire world. And that person was you, Lina. From the moment you gave me that small bag of food and tended to my wounds, I started to believe that there was good in the world beyond the darkness. You gave me hope again." Even though that hope would eventually be shattered, she had still shown me a different way of living. And for that, she became my everything—my muse, my ultimate desire.

"What happened to you, Marcello?"

"More like what didn't happen," I reply wryly. "But I'll tell you..."

"Someday," we say in unison with a laugh.

"It's not that I don't want to, Lina. But it's difficult to talk about it." And because part of me doesn't think she'd look at me the same if she knew the things I've done.

"I'm here. Whenever you want to talk." She lays a kiss on my chest, her face nuzzling my side.

"So, you love me." I subtly change the subject, even though I still can't believe she loves me. It's simply too good to be true, considering I'd dreamed of hearing her say these words for so long.

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