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The distorted red reflection in the wine glass stared at me dauntingly as I tried my best to ignore the strict gaze from a set of green eyes. A vastly contrasting drink in his hand, a steaming mug of coffee, the scent of which was enough for me to understand that it was dairy free and strong enough to keep anyone awake throughout the night.

Everything was so quiet and silent that I was afraid to make any movement that might draw his attention towards me. Not that I needed to do anything at all but with every move I did make, he unravelled me more with his knowing eyes. Like a secret he knew that even I was not aware of.

I was made to sit on the enormous sofa all alone while he sat on the couch, with not a word in the air, only the crackle of fire keeping the silence dead in the animated night outside. Snow pelted softly and glistened in the dim light that the fire cast through the glass doors which rattled now and then when the wind knocked against it. But I couldn't spare a long gaze at them, as much as they fascinate me. Dimitri made it impossible to be attentive to anything but himself and his burning gaze.

What did he want?

"Drink" in his usual demanding manner, he ordered a command as he looked away into the fire. I could sense that there was something just not right about this whole situation. Especially because it was not the usual routine that we used to follow. There was no piano lessons today after dinner nor did he let me go back to my room as quietly as I had come out of it.

Reluctantly I lifted the glass to my lips, but before the sip of wine could hit my tongue he froze me completely with a question that came out of nowhere caught me completely unprepared for what was about to come.

"Do you remember your mother?" He took a drink from the black mug, freckled with a shade of ochre that was barely visible. Unlike his inquisitive eyes that unblinkingly scored me, enjoying me like I was an animal trapped in a cage at the zoo.

I didn't know what to say to that as I sat there frozen, wondering why would he ever bring up my family. A past that jabbed at my heart every time. I didn't want to remember them because the memories I had brought nothing but pain and suffering.

Cold to the bone, I tipped the glass farther back than I should have as the bittersweet taste clenched my stuck throat and bought me the littlest bit of extra time before I had to answer this question and many more that were surely about to come. The answer was obvious though, strange that he would ask it at all.

"Yes." I exhaled slowly, refusing my mind to wander off into the abyss of memories that would leave me vulnerable at his hands. Anything but the past. I looked away and tried to find anything that would take my mind off of the matter as I took another sip from the wine glass and sniffed the citrus aroma that helped ground me back here.

"I don't" Silence. He waited for me to look back at him which happened too fast as my head spun a little from the motion. I was too shocked to hide my reaction or even try to do so. Him talking about his family was uncalled and completely impossible to even consider it as a train of thought. Being as closed as he is, I wondered again. Why?

"I remember a few things she told me. Few things she told my father. How she behaved and how she always liked that crimson satin dress with the set of pearls and the emerald ring on her gloved finger. And so many more small things that are perhaps inconsequential and hardly noticeable at times." He paused again as a distant memory of something clouded his mind. He looked so unusual and out of his general way of behaviour that I had a hard time believing it existed at all. One of those rare moments when he seemed to be off guard, careless of whom he presented himself to be.

"I am sure she was charming." The words escaped my mouth before I could stop them and when I did realize the slip up I made, my eyes widened with shock at the stupid mistake of giving him a response which was unrequested and initiated from my side but to my surprise he somewhat ignored me, thankfully, as he kept staring at the ceiling and continued.

"But no matter how hard I try, I can't remember her face. It's like a blur. As if she is wearing some sort of mask over her face that just won't let me see her. Or get through to her. A core blip that is untraceable." I took another sip of the drink from the wine glass clenched in between my fingers as I tried to keep myself at bay. His words were hitting too close to home. A little too relatable to be a co-incidence. Maybe it was intentional, or maybe it wasn't but nonetheless he was guiding me through a dark road which only got darker.

I don't think about the life that I used to live, the first version of me that I was moulded into by the people that gave me this life. I try not to think about how they are or where they are or what they are doing. What they did to me and pretended they didn't. Possibly pretending now too. So many uncountable incidents that happened, a life that I can't explain through what they did, but what they felt when they did those things. Their faces a blur, but the satisfaction in their eyes like burning embers that charred me to the bone.

"Would you like some more?" The ability to answer was lost to me as I didn't realize when I stopped breathing altogether. What did he say again?

And then I felt it.

Brimming at the edge, threatening to spill over as I breathed in my first breath which picked up slow but deep.

I was going to have a panic attack.

Dimitri stood up suddenly, and walked over to me with a bottle that he produced out of nowhere and poured wine in the empty glass in my hands. The clink of the bottle against the rim was a like a siren against my ears that awakened my senses and broke the chain. Dimitri deciding to sit beside me, contrastingly closer than the distance in between us before, helped as well, as I instinctively shrivelled up, too conscious of his presence.

And just like that, the panic attack was gone even before it could start.

Was he toying with me? Playing with my emotions in a manner only the truly sadistic can?

I took the largest gulp of wine that I had taken so far tonight, emptying the contents in the glass, even before it could breathe properly in the nipping air. But Dimitri was ready as he poured more and made sure that my glass was never empty. He talked about things that I barely heard and long before I knew what I was doing, I was drunk.

Wrapped in his arms, I leaned my head on his shoulder, too loose to even guide my movements properly. The exhaustion I felt was too heavy, and I just wanted to go to my room and sleep, but he kept he seated here in this room with no detectable motive until the shrill cry of the doorbell tore through the silent whisper of the night.