Chapter 4: Hiraeth

                                    

                                          
Hiraeth (n.) a homesickness for a home to which you cannot return, a home which maybe never was; the nostalgia, the yearning, the grief for the lost places of your past. 
Arabella's P.O.V.
After moving to Rome, I had never given much thought to how I would find the courage to rebuild the dwindling faith that I had for myself; to learn how to become an independent woman; to live. Until this moment, I have never felt so awake, so alert, so alive, but this was not what I expected, not what I wanted, to happen to help myself feel this way again.
How can I feel so alive when I am so close to death, sitting next to the devil himself? I sighed and laid my head against the window but frowned when I felt the rough burlap fabric rub against my forehead during this bumpy car ride. 
I began to accept my defeat as I allowed my eyelids to become heavy and closed my eyes to rest, but my anger and attentiveness rose when I heard Nicolo exhale the toxic smoke from his lungs, leading me to smell the strong scent of tobacco as it smothered this enclosed vehicle. 
"Do you know why I have yet to place a bullet between your eyes, Ms. Aetos?" I heard him ask as he took his time saying my name; the letters escaping his mouth so smoothly, yet it was sickening to me.
I gritted my teeth in anger and took a deep breath, wishing that this wasn't real and trying to drown out his torturous voice.
"I believe you are a spy; sent with Alexander to disrupt my business and intercept intel by working in one of my establishments, but you do not truly seem like one, Arabella. Your reactions tonight were real. Your fear right now is genuine. Why is that?"
I remained silent as I was too confused to comprehend the words coming from his mouth and too infuriated to come up with words of my own. 
"You are easy to read, Arabella; I can see right through you. The way your hands tremble when you are afraid, the way your chest falls and rises so quickly as you try to control your temper, and lastly, the way your collarbone and neck become more defined as you hold your breath when you are nervous."
My heart feels as if it is going to beat out of my chest, and my hands have become more sweaty as I never felt his stare leave my body. I need to escape.
"You are nervous right now, Arabella, yes? I will not lie; it is quite a tantalizing view."
I bit my lip tightly as I tried to keep my composure, but the continuance of his voice had only added to this torture. 
"You see, Ara-"
My name does not deserve to be spoken from your revolting mouth again. I immediately cut him off before he could finish his thought. Growing up, my mother had taught me to be kind; to think about how my words could affect someone before speaking out, but I was too livid at the way which he spoke towards me. I'm sorry, Momma.
"How do you expect me to see if one of your worthless men placed a sack over my head, Nicolo?" I asked with ridicule and venom laced within my voice.
Suddenly, I was forced down to my side as I felt him loosening the strings around my neck and ripping the bag from my head, pulling some strands of my hair along with it.
Before I could look up and regain my focus, I was shoved against the car door as Nicolo's calloused hand was placed around my neck, causing me to hit the back of my head against the glass window.
"You do not speak of my men in that way, do you understand?" 
Nicolo's face was merely inches away from mine; I felt his hot breath trail down the cold skin of my neck as he spoke to me with viciousness. I looked up at the man and daringly stared into his dark eyes that only glared back at me with hostility.