He was waiting for her to return, but wasn't overly worried. He knew she could take care of herself. By the time night rolled around, the door opened and the silence was interrupted. He turned away from his workroom and went to greet her. Only to see her walking toward the kitchen, away from him. She usually reported on what she did and who she talked too whenever she returned, it was based on most of their conversations throughout the day.
He relied on her a lot for that.
"Ecco?" he wondered, walking over to her.
She turned on the faucet and had a paper cloth under it. Once it was soaked, she wrung it, and placed it to her face.
Frowning, he walked to her side and looked at her. She wasn't looking at him right away, but when she did turn, her expression said nothing of what had conspired during her day out. Her eyes held no interest in what the wounds on her face spoke.
"What happened?" he asked her, going to the freezer where he took out a tray of ice cubes.
"Nothing I couldn't handle," she replied.
It wasn't the answer he wanted, and he placed the tray down and took out a few, he reached for the wet cloth in her hand and wrapped it around the cubes. He brushed her strands from her face and placed it to a purplish bruise on her temple.
"Are you so sure?" he asked her, his lips quirked into a smile as he looked her in the eyes, wanting some truth to this issue.
She stared for a moment, words going unsaid, then she blinked. "I'm not sure who they were affiliated with, but I dealt with them anyway."
"It took a toll on you," he said.
Her gaze flitted away from him, usually that didn't happen, not when they were alone. There was always something intimate and secret that he enjoyed. It wasn't something most people would pick up on, her devotion to him was what he wanted, and it was rare to find.
There was a sort of anger rising inside of him with the bruises on her face, the blood, and the empty expression.
"I don't really like the thought of people touching you," he said, watching her, but her gaze went back to him and she blinked, unfazed by the words.
"I don't like it either," she replied.
He smiled, looking at the bruises and making sure not to put too much pressure on them.
After a long moment in silence, Ecco glanced at Jeremiah a few times.
"Is there something you wanted to say?" he asked her, still smiling.
Ecco nodded slowly, "They said...I was boring."
Jeremiah arched a brow. "What do you mean?"
Ecco's brows furrowed, as if she were thinking. She winced when Jeremiah placed pressure on one of her bruises, and he whispered an apology.
"The people...I was with...while I was fighting back...they said I was boring...bland...that I needed to smile."
Jeremiah frowned, he pulled his arm back and tilted his head to the side. "And that bothers you?"
Ecco blinked and looked at him. "I don't know." Her hand went to her neck and when he looked, pulling her fingers away, there was a shallow cut with barely any blood that rose to the surface.
"Does it matter if I smile?" she asked him.
"You can if you want too," Jeremiah said. "But you don't have too, I'm not forcing you to do anything, and they shouldn't be influencing you either. This is your choice, not theirs."
Ecco nodded and after a moment, the corner of her lips tugged. "If I smiled all the time, do you think they'll be scared of me?"
He admired her smile, the warmth that came to her face, the liveliness in her eyes. He cupped the side of her face, smiling back at her.
"You can scare them with or without a smile, all that really matters is that your face will be the last thing they'll ever see."
Her lips stretched, and he could see a bit of her own madness inside of her, and maybe one day it'll be exposed. For now, he'll have to make sure no one leaves a mark on her, she was too beautiful for bruises and scars.