2 am.
The door opened, and you didn't need to turn around to know who it was. The scent of blood clung to the air before Arlecchino even stepped inside.
"You're still awake," Arlecchino observed calmly as she entered the living room. Her voice was even and smooth. Not surprised, but mildly amused as if she didn't expect to find you sitting there, waiting.
Her pale skin was marred with streaks of red, smudged along her jaw, staining the cuffs of her black dress shirt. She looked exhausted, but not in the way an office worker did after a long shift. No, this was something else.
You hated this game. She sidestepped your concerns and never fully revealed the truth. It had been this way since the beginning, since the moment she came into your life with quiet affection and an unwavering devotion you never fully understood. Despite being her wife, she seemed to have secrets.
You exhaled sharply. "Where were you?"
Arlecchino tilted her head slightly, a small, almost amused smile curving her lips. "Out. Does it matter?" She held your gaze with that same eerie calmness, unreadable as always. "I told you not to wait up for me."
Her expression didn't change, yet she tilted her head when she noticed your gaze lingering on the dried blood on her hands. "The blood is not mine if that's what you're wondering."
Arlecchino stepped closer, standing over you—tall, broad-shouldered, commanding. She cupped your chin between two fingers, tilting your face up to hers, and for a moment, you saw a protectiveness in her gaze that lurked beneath her indifference.
"You're safe," she murmured, her voice softer now, more certain. "That's all that matters. So don't ask unnecessary questions."
She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "It's nothing you need to worry about," Arlecchino added smoothly, releasing you as she turned towards the bathroom. "We'll talk in the morning."
She wasn't lying—she would talk, just not about what you wanted to know. Unbeknownst to you, she was eliminating people who posed threats to you and your life.