Despite my tough words, I couldn't lie to myself that what had just happened had no effect on me, even if I tried. My body wasn't cooperating either.
I felt hot, I wanted to blame my sweater, but it was that kind of heat. My breathing was still uneasy, and the smell of him still lingered even though I was now a safe distance away from him.
I didn't know my way around the house, so I just walked. Happy that there weren't men at every corner, the halls were empty.
I walked to the stairs, and only then did I notice just how luxurious the house was. The stairs were those kind of stairs you see in movies, where it takes 5 minutes to walk down for the dramatic effect.
I tried my best to walk down as fast as possible, scoffing at how extra the house was, from the high-up ceilings to the gorgeous chandeliers. Not to mention how overly organised everything was, the couches looked brand new, like no one had sat on them. The blanket draped on the edge looked on touch. The living room looked straight out of a magazine.
On paper, it was nice to look at. But in real life, it made me even more uneasy.
I followed the smell of tea and made my way to the kitchen.
Matteo's back was turned to me, attending to something in a small mortar and pestle.
"Crushing some poison?" I asked as I walked over to the fridge, with the mission of finding something normal and easy to eat. My eyes scanned the arranged fridge, noticing the only ingredients here could at best make a salad. There was no bread.
I grabbed some things for the salad and took them to the counter, ready to chop and cut them into a bowl.
Also grabbing some shrimp.
"Not today", his reply, making may chuckle.
"Want some?" I heard Matteo say from behind me.
"I don't drink tea.
Where are all the staff?" I said realizing this house wasn't usually this empty.
Even locked up in my room, I could tell other people moved around, from the guards to the helps.
"He sent them home for a while", Matteo said. I opened the cupboards almost not able to see their contents, in search of a bowl for my salad and a chopping board.
"Where are his bowls?
I'm starving", I said, standing on my toes and peering up to see that yet another cupboard had sets of china.
"Between the both of us, you have more of a chance of finding those bowls than I", he said, and I saw him take a sip of his tea.
I saw him visibly relax, his eyes closed as if savouring wine. No tea could be that good, it was just leaf soup.
"I've never even seen this kitchen", I said in annoyance. The whole place is so annoyingly tidy, I'd see a salad bowl and probably think it was an ornament.
"I've never been in this house till yesterday, haven't seen brother dearest in 2 years", he said more to himself, his eyes going distant as if thinking back to when he did see him.
"2 years no communication and you return to see he's a mad man", I teased, noticing how his mood shifted just after talking.
The edges of his lips curled, and he looked over at me. The heels of my feet were no longer in the air, but on the cold and spotless marble floor.
I was giving up on the search for the bowl, considering just biting into the vegetables.
"I'm starving".
"Me too.
We can raid his pantry, he always has junk in there", he suggested, his green eyes gleaming with mischief. At that moment, his countenance was anything but a Gusto.
"Damiano Gusto has junk food?
And a pantry", I asked, sounding amused.
"He's always had a sweet tooth, especially as he's quitting", Matteo said, I guessed, referring to his smoking.
He placed his teacup on the counter and gestured for me to follow him.
"I believe this is the most human thing I've come to know about your brother", I said as I followed him.
Matteo let out a short laugh. His laugh sounded like the most joy I've heard in days.
"I know he seems like brooding asshole, in fact he is a brooding asshole", he corrected himself, making me laugh.
"He also has his more human side.
I just don't know why he chooses the psychotic asshole side too often".
His last words had a hint of disappointment and almost guilt.
We got to red coloured double doors, my brow rose instinctively as I took my place next to Matteo, assessing the door and how random it looked.
His hands were crossed, and his face mirrored mine. Both our faces said, 'Why is this red?'.
"What do you think?" Matteo asked gesturing at the door.
"Dungeon?" I asked, crossing my own hands and shifting my weight, looking at the door.
"Or the doors to sweets", he said.
"I say dungeon".
"I say sweets", he said, and before I could protest, he opened the doors.
My eyes went wide at the very organised display of snacks, herbs, spices, and more.
I exhaled.
"This is a big pantry", I said, taking note of just how spacious the room looked and how long the shelves went. I couldn't even count the number of snacks I saw.
Some were in big transparent jars, and others were in baskets still in their packaging.
I looked closely at a jar that looked like....gummy worms?
I walked over to the jar, thankful it was one of the ones within arm's reach.
Grabbing it, I looked at the rainbow colored sugar dusted treats.
"Damian eats this?" I asked, amused and horrified.
"He used to say it helped him think.
I just think it feeds the demon that possessed him", Matteo said, his back turned to me as he observed a jar of what looked like gum balls.
I opened the jar, taking out a few worms.
"Do you think they're expired?".
"My brother is too much of a control freak to let anything under his roof go bad.
You'll be fine", Matteo crabbed a packet of salted pretzels, making me remember his profession and also that he was Damiano's opposite in every way.
Matteo and I had probably been in the pantry for 30 minutes, tasting some of the snacks and just putting some out of place, to mess with Damiano.
We were now seated on the floor, sharing a bag of chips and a big bottle of lukewarm soda.
"I'll need to call home soon", I said, taking another salty chip to my mouth.
"Need a minute?" Matteo asked.
"You can stay.
Could use your phone though", I said casually.
Matteo pulled out his phone from his pocket, handing it to me. I dusted my hands before taking it.
I took a deep breath, then dialed. Secretly hoping no one would answer.
"Hello?" I heard my mom say from the other side of the phone, her voice sounded like she was busy.
"Hey, Mom", I said. Trying my best not to sound how I feel.
"Sib darling, oh my God.
Are you alright? I was so worried.
Almost went to the cops, but Angela told me you texted her, saying you got cold feet.
She said you needed space, but why didn't you text back or answer my calls, sweetie?
It's so good to hear your voice", she rumbled on, making me smile despite the circumstances. Mrs Rooney was a talker.
"I'm fine, Mom, just needed some time to clear my head.
I'm sorry, I just couldn't go through with it." My voice at the end came out low; it sounded convincing. Why did it sound almost true?
"Sib, it's okay.
You don't need to be sorry about anything, everything is going to be okay." Her words brought tears to my eyes, even though she was referring to something else, I wanted to believe those words right now, sitting in Damiano's pantry.
"Thanks, Mom, I'm just going to figure things out a bit.
Just wanted to let you know I'm okay", I said reassuringly.
"Have you talked to him?
He's been worried sick.
Even more than I have".
"I will.
How's the gallery?" I said trying to change the subject.
"You need to call him, honey, at least give him some closure.
That's the least you could do".
Her tone was more stern, even though it still oozed worry.
"I'll let you get to it, sweetie.
We love you okay?
Please keep in touch, everyone misses you.
And of course the gallery is fine, I'm surprised you could stay away from it this long", she said, laughing at the end.
"Thanks mom.
I love you too.
I'll be back soon", I said, the last sentence sounding sour in my mouth, almost like a lie.
The line went dead.
I felt Matteo shift beside me, I leaned closer to him, resting my head on his shoulder.
I didn't have it in me to call Logan, I just couldn't.