I shook my head. Alessandro had left earlier in the day, so Bianca had been confined to her room again after he left.
I closed my eyes for a moment before blowing out a breath and coming to a decision.
I opened her door and stepped into the darkness. The moonlight cut a sliver of light across her face as she slumbered.
I moved forward and stood over her, watching as she slept. Long blonde hair. Perfect pink lips. Lashes that fanned across her cheeks.
“Why are you lurking in my room?” she mumbled, her eyelids cracking open. “Shouldn’t you be ruining someone else’s life?”
A soft, sad laugh left me. “It’s late. I’m saving other lives for tomorrow, sweet princess.”
She sat up, rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and stared at me.
“You’re drunk.”
“I am… comfortable,” I said delicately. “Not drunk.”
“Do you do this with all your captives?” She gestured around.
“You’re my only captive.”
She moved to stand, and I let her. I watched as she went into the attached bathroom and closed the door. Blowing out a breath, I settled on the edge of her bed, wondering what the hell I was doing. It didn’t make sense for me to be in here.
Sylar said…
She returned before I could continue the thought. I looked over at her as she settled next to me on the bed.
“Matteo?”
“Bianca?”
“Can…Can we go downstairs and eat something?” She rubbed her stomach.
“Of course,” I said, frowning. “I did not realize you were hungry.”
“I’m always hungry,” she grumbled. “I appreciate the three balanced meals every day, but sometimes I just want ice cream, pickles, and maybe some pizza.”
“You want pizza now?”
Her eyes widened. “Olives, cheese, and peppers?”
“Truly?”
She nodded eagerly and rubbed her swollen belly again. “And chocolate ice cream. No, cookies and cream. No… oh, maybe vanilla with caramel sauce. And whipped cream. With a cherry. And a pickle.”
I laughed softly and got to my feet. “I am sure we can figure something out. Come.”
She eagerly took my hand, allowing me to lead her from the room.
I did not think I had any of those things in the house, but I had Frank. He’d be irritated for the grocery run, but he’d do it.
Frank was decent like that.
“You don’t needto hang out with me,” Fox—now Evan—muttered as I sat in the chair beside his bed. I spent a fair amount of time in and out to check on him. Some days he seemed better, others not so much. Today was one of those in-between days. Or nights, rather.
“I enjoy spending time with you,” I answered.
He grunted and continued to stare at the wall. It was late, and I hadn’t expected him to be awake, but there he was, staring at the wall like always.
