Fina wasn't the same.

She still moved through the house, still followed the motions of everyday life, but she wasn't there—at least, not for them.

Antonio, Enzo, Luca, Matteo, and Dante all felt it. The way she only spoke when necessary, her voice hollow and detached. The way she left the room when one of them walked in, never making eye contact. The way she only really spoke when it was to their parents.

The distance wasn't loud or dramatic. She didn't yell or curse them out, didn't throw angry glares their way. Instead, it was quiet. Devastatingly quiet.

And it was killing them.

Matteo leaned against the kitchen counter, arms crossed tightly. "She's not even trying to hide it anymore," he muttered. "She won't even look at us."

Luca sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. "I tried talking to her last night. Knocked on her door to check on her, and she just said, 'I don't want to talk right now' and shut it."

"That's more than what I got," Enzo scoffed bitterly. "I told her I made extra food, and she didn't even acknowledge me."

Dante, the most restless of them all, drummed his fingers against the table. His jaw was tight, his leg bouncing anxiously. "She used to always talk to us," he muttered, almost to himself. "Even when she was mad, she never ignored us."

Antonio, the quietest among them, finally spoke. "We did this."

The words cut through the air like a blade.

They all knew it was true. Ever since the argument—their pushing, their impatience, the way they had pressured her without thinking about what she was going through—she had pulled away completely. And now, she didn't trust them.

Isabella walked into the room then, setting a cup of tea down on the counter. "She'll come around," she said softly, but the worry in her eyes was undeniable.

"But what if she doesn't?" Dante asked, voice tight.

Alessandro, who had been listening from the doorway, finally stepped forward. His expression was unreadable, but there was a heaviness in his gaze.

"Then you earn it back," he said simply. "You don't rush her. You don't push. You just be there. Whether she talks to you or not, you stay."

The brothers exchanged uncertain glances, their chests heavy with guilt.

They had hurt her. And now, they had to fix it—no matter how long it took.

Fina sat at the dining table, absently stirring her tea, her appetite long gone. The tension in the room was unbearable, thick enough to suffocate her. She could feel their eyes on her—watching, waiting, pushing.

"Fina, you can't just keep shutting us out," Dante finally said, his voice laced with frustration.

She didn't respond.

"You've barely said two words to us in a week," Matteo added, his arms crossed over his chest. "We're your brothers. We're trying to help."

Fina let out a slow breath, her grip tightening around her mug. "Then stop," she muttered.

"Stop what?" Enzo frowned, leaning forward. "Stop caring? We're not gonna do that, Fina."

"Maybe if you actually talked to us, we'd understand how to help," Luca said, trying to keep his tone level, but there was an edge of desperation in his voice.

Fina let out a bitter laugh, shaking her head. "You don't get it, do you?" Her voice wavered, but her anger burned hotter. "I don't want your help. I don't want you constantly watching me like I'm some fragile little girl. I don't need you breathing down my neck every second."

Antonio, who had been silent, narrowed his eyes. "So what, you just want us to pretend like nothing happened?"

"Yes!" Fina snapped, her voice rising. "That's exactly what I want! I want you to leave me the fuck alone!"

The room fell into a stunned silence.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her hands trembling. She hadn't meant to yell, but the pressure had been building, suffocating her, and now it had exploded.

Dante took a step toward her, his expression wounded. "Fina..."

"No." She shook her head, pushing her chair back as she stood. "You don't get to act like you care now. Not after everything."

Matteo's jaw clenched. "That's not fair—"

"I don't care if it's fair," she cut him off. "I just want space."

Her brothers exchanged helpless glances, but Fina didn't wait for a response. She turned on her heel and stormed upstairs, slamming her bedroom door behind her.

Downstairs, the boys sat in stunned silence.

"She really hates us right now, huh?" Enzo muttered, rubbing his face.

"She doesn't hate us," Luca said, though he didn't sound convinced.

Antonio exhaled sharply, shaking his head. "She's hurting. And we pushed too hard."

Dante sat back, eyes locked on the staircase where Fina had disappeared. His hands balled into fists as guilt settled deep in his chest.

They had always sworn to protect her.

But what were they supposed to do when they were the ones she wanted protection from? Chapter: Fractured Bonds

The house was quieter than usual. Too quiet.

Fina had locked herself in her room for the rest of the day, and her brothers were left sitting in the living room, still trying to process what had just happened.

Enzo leaned forward, elbows on his knees, rubbing his hands together anxiously. "I don't get it. We were just trying to be there for her."

Antonio scoffed, shaking his head. "You heard what she said. She doesn't want us hovering over her."

Dante, who had been silent, suddenly stood up. "This is bullshit." His voice was tight with frustration. "We're her family. She doesn't get to just shut us out."

"Maybe we need to give her space," Luca suggested hesitantly.

Matteo let out a dry laugh. "Yeah? And what if she never lets us back in?"

The thought settled over them like a weight, suffocating and cold.

Meanwhile, upstairs, Fina curled into herself on her bed, her pillow clutched to her chest.

She hated this.

She hated feeling like this.

It wasn't like she wanted to push them away, but the anger, the resentment—it was easier to be mad than to admit how much she was hurting.

A soft knock on her door broke the silence.

"Fina?"

It was Isabella.

Fina squeezed her eyes shut, debating whether to respond. After a moment, she sighed. "Come in."

Her mother stepped inside, closing the door behind her before walking over and sitting on the edge of the bed. She didn't say anything at first—just gently ran her fingers through Fina's hair the way she had when she was little.

Fina sniffled, pressing her face into her pillow. "They won't leave me alone."

"They're worried about you, tesoro," Isabella said softly.

"I know," Fina admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But they don't get it. They don't understand how tired I am."

Isabella exhaled, nodding as she continued to stroke her daughter's hair. "I know, sweetheart. But shutting them out isn't going to make it any easier."

Fina pulled the pillow tighter against her chest. "I just need time."

Isabella kissed the top of her head. "Then take all the time you need. But promise me you won't push them away forever. They love you."

Fina didn't respond right away. Eventually, she whispered, "I'll think about it."

Isabella sighed but didn't push. Instead, she just held her daughter close, knowing that for now, this was the best she could do.

The tension in the house was suffocating.

After Fina had locked herself away in her room, Alessandro and Isabella had remained quiet—watching, waiting. But when they overheard the boys arguing amongst themselves, debating whether to go back upstairs and force Fina to talk, something in Alessandro snapped.

The boys barely had time to react before their father stormed into the living room, his expression thunderous.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" Alessandro's voice boomed through the room, making all five brothers straighten in their seats.

Isabella followed behind him, arms crossed, her usual gentle demeanor hardened with disappointment.

Dante, who had been pacing, opened his mouth to argue, but Alessandro's sharp glare cut him off. "Don't even try it."

Luca frowned. "We were just—"

"I don't care what you think you were doing," Isabella interrupted, her voice deceptively calm. "We told you to give her space. You didn't listen."

Antonio let out a frustrated sigh. "Mamma, we were just trying to help."

"Help?" Alessandro's jaw clenched. "Do you call what you did helping? Hounding her? Pressuring her?"

Matteo looked away, guilt creeping in.

"She told you to leave her alone," Isabella continued, her voice laced with disappointment. "And instead of respecting that, you pushed her to the point where she snapped."

Dante shook his head, his frustration bubbling over. "But she's our sister! We're supposed to—"

"You're supposed to love her. Support her," Alessandro cut in, his tone dangerously low. "Not suffocate her."

Silence.

The boys exchanged glances, guilt weighing heavy on their shoulders.

"She's barely holding on right now," Isabella added, her voice quieter but no less firm. "You cannot make this about your feelings. She is the one hurting."

The realization hit harder than any scolding ever could.

Alessandro exhaled, running a hand down his face before speaking again, his voice softer now. "We know you love her. We know you're scared. But pushing her like this? It's only going to push her away."

Antonio was the first to break. He sat forward, rubbing a hand over his face. "We just... we don't want to lose her."

"I know," Isabella whispered. "But right now, you need to trust her. And trust us."

The boys all nodded, albeit reluctantly.

Alessandro's expression softened, just a fraction. "Give her time. When she's ready, she'll come back to you."

And with that, the conversation was over.

The house was quiet that evening, the weight of the earlier tension still lingering in the air. After the confrontation with her brothers, Fina had retreated to her room, unsure of how to face them. The words they had said still stung, and the guilt that came with pushing them away was heavy. But what hurt more was that they hadn't understood her need for space.

As the night wore on, Fina found herself staring at the ceiling, the quiet hum of the house surrounding her. She tossed and turned, trying to shake the feeling of loneliness that had wrapped itself tightly around her chest. Every time she closed her eyes, all she could see was the way her brothers had looked at her—their frustration, their concern, and ultimately their hurt.

She couldn't do it anymore.

With a sigh, Fina stood up, wrapped her arms around herself for comfort, and made her way down the hallway. Her feet moved without thinking, the familiar path to her parents' room almost like a second nature.

When she reached their door, she hesitated for just a moment before gently knocking.

"Come in," Isabella's soft voice called from the other side.

Fina pushed the door open slowly, her heart heavy in her chest. She stepped inside, her eyes flickering nervously to the bed where her parents were already settling down for the night.

"Fina?" Isabella sat up, concern in her eyes. "What's wrong, darling?"

Fina bit her lip, trying to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She didn't trust herself to speak, so she simply shook her head.

Alessandro, sensing the turmoil, reached out to her. "Come here, sweetheart." His voice was gentle but firm.

Fina didn't hesitate. She crawled into their bed, seeking comfort in their embrace. Her body instinctively pressed against Isabella's side, and Alessandro immediately pulled her close, his arm wrapping securely around her waist.

The warmth of their bodies was like a balm to her wounded soul. Fina tucked her head into her mother's chest, her breaths shaky as the dam inside her finally broke. She let the tears fall freely, the weight of the past few days pouring out in waves. Isabella stroked her hair softly, whispering soothing words, while Alessandro simply held her, his presence grounding her.

"Shh... you're safe here, Fina," Isabella murmured, kissing the top of her head.

Fina didn't say anything. She didn't need to. In that moment, all she needed was to feel the love of her parents surrounding her, shielding her from the pain.

Alessandro's hand ran up and down her back, a steady rhythm meant to calm. "You're not alone," he said softly. "We're right here with you."

Fina clung to them, the sound of their steady breaths a reminder that, for now, she didn't have to face the world on her own.

As the night wore on, her tears began to slow, and the exhaustion from the emotional and physical toll of the past days finally began to settle in. She could feel her eyelids growing heavy as the warmth of her parents' love cocooned her.

In the safety of their arms, Fina finally allowed herself to drift off into a peaceful sleep, the first real sleep she'd had in days.

And for the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like she was drowning.

She was home. And, for now, that was enough.

a/n

this is not proofread at alllllll . I just did this in 4th period . happy valentines dayyy.

did you have a valentine today?

hugs and kisses from the author ❤️❤️