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1859.
“I’m afraid that…”
His body had sprouted like a tree. Vincenzo was taller than her now, but willowy, a sapling that had simply shot up too tall. Now it wasn’t able to provide for itself.
“I don’t want to be the reason why…”
When he sighs his entire body quakes like it’s breaking down and he buries his head in his hands.
“I can’t be the reason why people suffer.”
Vincenzo brings his face up again, eyebrows furrowed. In an attempt to drown his qualms he drags his hands down to rest over his mouth. He closes his eyes.
“I feel as if I’ve been living for the wrong reasons. This entire time, I’ve been blind to myself. My self interest, my arrogance, it’s coming to a head. I’m going to be fucking decimated.”
Tears start rolling hot and heavy down freckled cheeks and Viola can see that while his body may have grown, his mental state, well… to say the least, it wasn’t surprising that he was terrified. Or crying, hiccups and all.
She hadn’t expected him to develop introspection, however, and for that she’ll… pat his shoulders, maybe squeeze him a little, looking off at anything other than the blubbering mess. Dear God, this was what they wanted to bring into their ‘Italy’…
“When was the last time you went to the country? –For work?”
His silence is very telling.
“Well, you have to correct that.”
Viola wants to say that he should have been doing that from the get-go if he didn’t want to end up with his head in the basket of an imported guillotine. Because it’s true. She jots it down mentally to send to him later in a letter.
“Don’t stand by a dying giant. There will be no spoils, no treasure when it goes down; you’ll be crushed because of loyalty, and have what to show for it?”
Vincenzo takes in a very deep breath, wiping at his eyes.
“And what if… the giant doesn’t die? What if the upcoming revolution is crushed as well?”
“Then at least you die fighting for something that matters to them.”
“Die?”
His ochre eyes went wide like they’d been blasted with belladonna and she laughs.
“A figure of speech. You’ll be fine.” For him, probably. Personally, that wasn’t her experience. “Just…leave me out of your shit, mm?”
She pinches his cheeks and he hiccups one last time.
(The next time they see each other, she realizes that the little fuck never agreed, and Palermo’s being bombarded to ruins. Fantastic.)