"I'm done" She watched him disappear into the kitchen, taking his food trash.
"Eat full and go take a rest, I will be upstairs. Don't come, just call from here, if you want something." she nodded as he said that and went upstairs.
She continued eating, savoring each bite, and then cleared the table. While rinsing the dishes her gaze wandered around the kitchen, taking in the warm tones and inviting atmosphere. Every corner of the room seemed to exude a sense of comfort and coziness.
After finishing up in the kitchen, she made her way back to the hall, her eyes drawn to the paintings on the walls. She walked slowly, taking in each piece, and smiled with amusement. The artwork was unique, not from famous painters, but each piece had a way of catching the heart. She stood in front of one particularly striking piece, studying the brushstrokes and colors.
After lingering in the hall for a moment, she opened the front door and stepped out into the sit-out, feeling the slight breeze on her skin. The change in environment was refreshing, and she closed her eyes, letting the gentle wind wash over her. The sounds of the outside world were a pleasant contrast to the quiet of the house, and she stood there, savoring the moment.
As she stepped out into the sit-out, the slight breeze carried the scent of blooming flowers from the nearby garden, and she couldn't help but smile. The morning sky was painted in soft pink and blushing peaches, casting a light glow over the surroundings. She took a deep breath, feeling the tension melt away, and let her gaze wander over the small, enclosed space.
The sit-out was adorned with a few potted plants, their leaves rustling softly in the breeze. A small wooden bench sat against one wall, inviting her to sit and stay a while. She walked over to the railing, running her hand over the intricate carvings, and looked out at the surrounding buildings.
As she stood there, lost in thought, she noticed the sounds of the neighborhood – children playing in the distance, the chatter of passersby, and the occasional bark of a dog. The atmosphere was peaceful, and she felt a sense of calm wash over her.
She smiled, feeling a sense of comfort at the mundane sounds of domestic life.
Suddenly, she remembered the paintings in the hallway, each one a unique piece that seemed to capture her heart. She wondered who the artist or artists could be – someone with a deep understanding of the human experience, someone who poured their soul into each brushstroke.
As the breeze picked up, carrying the scent of rain, she felt a shiver run down her spine. She wrapped her arms around herself, feeling the chill in the air, and decided to head back inside. She smiled, feeling a sense of relief, and stepped back inside, closing the door behind her. The warmth of the house enveloped her, and she felt a sense of belonging, if only for a moment.
She glanced around the hallway, her eyes lingering on the paintings once more. The artwork seemed to glow in the soft light of morning, and she felt drawn to them once again.
As she walked towards her room, she felt a sense of exhaustion wash over her. The events of last night had taken her toll. She reached her room, opened the door, stepped inside, feeling a sense of peace wash over her. She closed the door behind her and took a deep breath, feeling the stress of last night melt away.
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Michael hurled the glass across the room, shattering it into a hundred pieces. The sound made everyone around him flinch, and he turned to face them, his eyes blazing with fury. His father, a man in his mid-sixties, took a step forward, trying to placate him. "Michael, listen to me. We'll find Eva, we'll bring her back."
But before he could continue, Elizabeth, Eva's mother, spoke up, her voice laced with anger and desperation. "Mia will return in two days, bearing apologies for Eva's behavior and our failure to raise her properly. We'll offer our second daughter as a gesture of goodwill. You're welcome to marry her." Michael's gaze snapped to his mother, his anger simmering just below the surface. "I want Eva. No one else," he growled, struggling to keep his temper in check.
"Wherever she is, I'll find her," Michael declared, storming out of the room. His father let out a deep sigh and turned to Elizabeth. "I was thrilled when my son chose Eva, but now... I'm not so sure. A girl who runs away from her engagement doesn't exactly fill me with confidence. Did you ever ask her if she was truly willing to marry him?" Elizabeth's face remained stoic, her anger and frustration with Eva's behavior evident in her silence, And she didn't even think about whether she was wrong about deciding for her daughter, not even caring about her daughter's likes.
"We apologize for what happened," John, Eva's stepfather, interjected, his calm demeanor a stark contrast to the tension in the room. Michael's father shook his head, sighing heavily, and murmured, "I have no idea what that boy is going to do," before leaving the room.
**********************
Eva's eyes fluttered open at the sound of knocking. She took a moment to shake off the haze of sleep, her mind slowly coming online. As she got out of bed and opened the door, Luca's gaze met hers. "Looks like you slept well," he said, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "It's already 4 pm. You're probably starving – you missed lunch." Eva nodded slightly, still trying to shake off the drowsiness. The room seemed to steady around her as she focused on Luca.
"Go wash your face and come," he instructed, turning to head towards the kitchen without waiting for a response. Eva felt puzzled at his bossy tone, as if he was treating her like a child. The thought rankled, but she pushed it aside for now, following his directions nonetheless.
Her eyes widened slightly as she took her first sip of the tea, savoring the unique flavor. She looked up at him, and their eyes met – he was already watching her, his own cup paused mid-air, as if anticipating her reaction. "It's different," she said, intrigued by the new taste. "It's Indian," he replied, his tone neutral, without any hint of sternness, merely stating a fact. "It's good," she said, taking another sip, her expression softening in appreciation.
A soft smile played on his lips as he effortlessly concealed his emotions from her gaze.
[To Be Continued]
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