Adelina POV:
I could say my cheeks redden at the thought of him. I could say that one look from him is enough to do me in, enough to calm the constant storm or silence the entirety of the world. But then I would be lying, and I am not so addicted to mistruths that I feel the need to create them unnecessarily.
An onslaught of questions is rained upon me as soon as I enter the car. The first one and arguably the only important one being: where the actual fuck have I been?
And it is a valid question, a good one that warants an immediate answer. Something I do not know myself because the first spark of life I've felt in all the days I have not seen him is now. With him once again.
And it is dulled, but then again I do not remember what it has ever felt like in full capacity.
The smell of citrus and honey hangs in the car, making heaviness weigh on my heart, and Sebastian's hand rests loosely near my knee. The look in his eye causes my anger to flare but I keep it under control, under wraps, using any rationality I have left.
And yet strangely, tension seems to ease from my shoulders with each passing minute of being alone with him.
It's safe to say the party was a bust, but how am I to explain that to him?
Sebastian's room is as I remember it. The floorboards creek under my feet as my gaze runs over the familiar pictures he has framed, a small smile plaguing my lips until his voice startles me "You have some explaining to do."
IÂ hum noncommittedly, "What position did you play?" I motion towards the image of a little boy kicking a soccer ball, not tearing my eyes from it.
In a second I am pushed into a gamer chair, comfortable enough not to complain about being seated, but too quick to avoid my flinch that he doesn't seem to notice. The motion is so fast the chair begins to roll away, but his arms dart quickly from his sides to stabilize it.
"First you disapear," he starts, with both hands gripping the armrests on both sides of me "then you don't let me know you left, or even got home safe. Then, then, you don't return my texts and calls for days. For days, Adelina."
He looms over me with determination lining his features, "I shouldn't have done that, I'm sorry" I say, my tone not as apologetic as it should be.
"Do you know how worried I was when I couldn't find you?" he continues, his voice getting louder "And when you didn't text me back, do you understand the panic I felt?"
My neck had been craned so I can see him standing over me while he speaks. Then with his chest slightly heaving and an awkward silence quickly descending onto us, I turn and begin to softly play with his rings, having nothing to say for my actions.
"I deserve an explanation!" again I give no response. He turns his back to me, his hand running through his hair, "I wanted to go to your house or to find you at your favorite spots but then I realized I don't know where any of that is. I've known you for weeks, you're my girlfriend I should know something about you, anything about you other than your age."
My heart does not beat faster, but instead slower in response to his words. Shocked at his outburst but not finding it in myself to argue with him, I calmly get to my feet and slowly walk towards him, giving him time to understand my mouvements.
In front of him, I get on the tips of my toes and extend my arms to bring his face to mine, having him bend instead of me reach. With our foreheads together he finally leans into my touch instead of merely following the mouvement, "Please just take a breath, I'm sorry, ok? But I really need you to calm down to be able to talk to you."
And I do, feeling the familiar hand of unease creeping up my spine, my heart having not quite regulated itself.
I sense the stiffness of his muscles, but he does as I ask and takes a moment to himself. I could still see the agitation rolling off him in waves, but he does not raise his voice again as he says, "Better?"
I nod, bringing his mouth to mine in a slow deep kiss. He hesitates before returning the kiss, but when he does, he does so feverishly. His hands cup my jaw, then travel slowly down the length of my body before resting on my lower back.
To say that I was surprised that the situation descalated so quickly would be the understatment of the century.
We detach ourselves and I rest my forehead against his. "I admit, I shouldn't have done that, ok? I admit it. And I'm sorry, really I am." my tone still not apologetic enough.
"Ok," he takes a breath through his nose, exhaling through his mouth "ok yeah. That's still not an explanation."
I run my thumbs over his neck in thought, " I can't give you one."
So I didn't, I let him mull over my words and let the harshness come back to his breath. I let him get upset because at the end of the day, I don't think we have the same definiton of a relationship. And while I was happy to be in one, I don't quite understand the need to give up parts of myself for his comfort.
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Saturday morning drags by painfully slowly. I sit at the table, chewing lazily on food that could taste like cardboard but I really wouldn't notice, with Raffaele by my side. I pretend he really is paying attention to the sketch infront of him rather than continually glancing at me from the corner of his eye. I drown out Valerio and Francesco's italien discussion in frozen fear, barely even registering the talk about la cosa nostra because I am not in the mindset to care.
I could be in danger, there could be bodies beneath the floorboards and I won't even bother asking the lord for help.
I am scraping the bottom of the barrel for energy to fight, and now I choose to give in.
I'm sure Domenico is on a phone call, somewhere or someplace, while Valentino "runs errands" with Angelo for the guests we're having over today. Guests being cousins, I'm meeting some cousins. The ones that live here and not in Italy. Three boys, surprising as it may be, there's a severe lack of estrogen in the Bianco genes.
It feels impossible to be eating. It feels physically insufferable, if I didn't know the absolute uproar I'd cause if I gave into that feeling. I remind myself constantly: new house new rules, though as long as Michael is still here, in every scar and memory, it will all feel impossible.
Raffaele sighs and picks up my barely touched plate food, Francesco and Valerio eye it as it is brought to the kitchen and resume their italian discussion.
"Per quanto tempo gli altri intendono far finta che il mangiare non sia un problema?" Valerio asks in an annoyed huff, my ear picking up the dialogue with ease. I pick at my nails in feigned thought and continue to listen. (How long are the others planning to pretend as if her eating isn't an issue?)
"Se la prenda con Domenico, se fosse stato per me avrebbe mangiato tutto quello che c'era nel piatto dopo due settimane." Francesco replies, equally as annoyed. I hear the fridge open and some rustling. (Take it up with Domenico, if it was up to me she'd have been eating everything on the plate)
"Ha bisogno di mangiare, è troppo magra. Non è salutare." Valerio says with what I think might be a worried edge to his tone. I don't quite comprehend his emotion though, as I have already survived with much less. (She needs to eat, she's too skinny. It's not healthy.)
"Credetemi, lo so. Forse ascolterà Adrianno. Nessuno di noi sa cosa fare, ma Adrianno sì. Lo fa sempre." Francesco replies, biting into an apple. He no doubt speaks of one of the cousins that should be arriving in a few minutes. (Believe me I know. Maybe he'll listen to Adrianno. None of us know what to do, but Adrianno will. He always does.)
I look presentable, but have done the bare minimum. I brushed my hair, put on concealer to cover the dark circles under my eyes and thre on loose jeans with a black tanktop.
The weather calls for rain, but it is still bright outside despite the dark clouds.
I get up slowly, my feet softly padding against the hard wood floor until I reach the bathroom. I sit on the ground after locking the door, my stomach churning.
I awoke today from a shallow sleep, clawing at myself and struggling to breath. Memories of that night haunt me still, and I don't know how to rid myself of them. I thought I knew how, and now I have been proved wrong.
Memories of my mother have surfaced aswell. Detailed memories of her love, of her abandonment, of her time with Michael and of her time with my father who I have yet to ask about. I have yet to feel that I want to know.
I grabbed the ceramic bowl as I retched into it. Nothing but the acid of my stomach is in the toilet as I flush and the doorbell rings. I rinse my mouth, hearing new male voices as the door is opened and baby talk from my brothers.
Then I hear Domenico call my name, and I plaster a blank look on my face.
I step out and walk towards the entry way of the house. Two boys about the same in height with black hair greet my brothers with hugs as a young similar looking boy babbles in Raffaele's arms.
"Adelina!" Domenico calls, instantly turning everyone's focus towards me. The two boys look stunned.
"She looks so much like your mother," one of them says.
"Adelina," Domenico says, beckoning me forward "this is Adrianno," he points to one of the boys, the mature looking one with stunned grin planted on his lips "and this is Tiago." he motions towards the slightly younger looking one who gives me a small wave, equally as stunned.
"Um," I pick at my fingers once again "nice to meet both of you."
"See us," Adrianno corrects softly "We know you already amorzhino" (little love)
The term of endearment surprises me, as it's not italien but portuguese.
"Oh, right." I reply half hazardly.
"She doesn't remember much, as we told you. But here is someone you will meet for the first time," Raffaele walks over to my with the little boy in his arms "this is Benito, he's four."
"Hi!" the little boy exclaims
"Hi Benito" I say, a small smile on my face.
"Where's the girl?" Domenico asks, facing Adrianno. The girl, must be a girlfriend of sorts. Would this be their first time meeting too?
Steps could be heard, someone bounding up the steps as Tiago replies "She's getting Benito's things."
A short head of shoulder length raven hair steps throught the doorframe. All attention is taken off me and placed onto her, "Guys, this is," Adrianno starts and I don't even have time to look at her before everything in her arms is dropped onto the ground and her arms are around my shoulders, holding me in a tight embrace.
I'm stiff as a board, not quite knowing what to do until I hear her voice "Oh my god," she says pulling away to get a better look at my face "oh my god, oh my god, oh my god." she says grabbing me.
Then I see her, her blue eyes and pale complexion, and my body gives out, falling into her arms.
We both sob in each others arms, gripping each other to make sure it's real. Because Phoenix is infront of me, and never in my life did I think I would see Phoenix again.
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Hi my lovelies,
this is a long anticipated chapter, I know
how'd you guys like it?
much love <3
until next time lovelies :)