Honest

twenty

I feel the sun burning behind my lids. I groan and turn over. Why the hell are the curtains open anyway?

And what the hell is around my waist!

I crack open my eyes, looking down. Oh.

It's him. His arm is sling over my waist, his grip almost bruising as he forms a sort of iron seatbelt around me.

With difficulty, I turn over, examining his face. He's still asleep.

He's so pretty and calm when he sleeps. His face is blank, his lashes touching the curve of his cheek, his lips pressed together in a line.

His dark hair is everywhere.

I raise my hand tentatively, touching his lashes. His eyes move behind his kids as they peel open, big and brown, peering at me.

“Good morning,” He rasps.

I turn around, shutting my eyes. He chuckles behind me deeply, pressing a kiss to the crook of my neck.

“Are you shy now, gorgeous?”

He lets me go, stretching. I want to turn around I want to watch his muscles flex. I won't.

Because f**k him. That's why.

“Are you mad at me Kitty?” He calls from the middle of the room.

I say nothing. He doesn't push it. I hear him moving around the room. He goes into the shower.

It seems he's going out today.

I fall back asleep somehow, the warmness of the covers beckoning me to doze a bit.

When I wake back up, I sit up, and turn over. He's no here.

I get up, with a sigh, going to get the kitchen to get some water. Before I plan my next move, I need to drink. My mouth feels like a desert on steroids.

I enter the kitchen and there he is, in a black suit, with a red tie and black gloves.

His hair's slicked back now, and he has a flat expression on his face that bodes no nonsense.

I observe him, my eyes making the long trip up his legs and up to his torso to his face.

There's a man beside him, they look similar. Maybe their related. The other man wears a white suit. The contrast is so stark between the two, though they murmured a conservation, with same look on their faces.

It was almost like an angel and a demon. Of course with Giuseppe as the demon.

His flat expression breaks as he smiles at me.

“You're up?"

I nod. “Who's he?”

“This is my cousin Levi. Levi this is my girlfriend Dr. Brown.”

Really? With the Dr. Brown right now?”

Levi nods at me respectfully. “Buon giorno, signorina.”

“Buenos días, señor,” I return the greeting.

He looks mildly surprised.

Giuseppe doesn't. “She hates Italians,” He murmured distractedly, scrolling through his phone. “So keep it in english.”

Levi looks shocked now. “She...hates Italians?”

Is it that not a thing that exists?

“Hm,” Giuseepe assents silently.

“Then...”

“Because I don't care what she hates, isn't that right, gattina?” He smiles facetiously.

I return the fake smile, with one of my own.

“Hm, burn in hell Giuseepe.”

“Right next to you, darling,” He says nonchalantly.

Whatever. I'm getting out of the hell hole today I have s**t to do.

“I have to go to work," He says, putting his phone away. “You're free to roam, but I'll pick you up and take you back when I get ready to go home.”

So he placed a tracker on me. Great.

I roll my eyes, heading back to bed.

“Ah, Desiree!” I pause.

“What?”

He taps his cheek. “Kiss.”

I roll my eyes again. I hurry and press stupid kiss to his cheek, because won't leave me alone anyway.

He smiles, wrapping his arms around my waist.

“You'll call me if you need me won't you?”

No. Absolutely not.

“Sure,” I say flatly.

“Tty not to need me, cause I'm busy. Cards on the table, there's food in the fridge, the Buick's outside. Have fun, stay out of trouble and don't leave this house.”

What am I, ten? Is this my first time staying home alone, Mom?

What the f**k ever.

“Have a good day,” He whispered, kissing my head.

It'd be sorta sweet, if I wasn't hostage.

But I am. And I know that.

“Yeah, you too. I guess.”

He smiles, at me. I look at Levi. He's looking away purposely, a red tint on his face. Aw, look at that! Isn't that cute? He's blushing.

“Levi,” Giuseppe calls sternly, his eyes on me. “I'm sure Luna's waiting for you.”

Levi nods. “Right. Goodbye Dr. Brown.” He leaves, making my eyes go back to Giuseppe who's displeased about something.

“I thought you had to go,” I suggest nonchalantly.

“Are you in such a rush to see me leave,” He pouts.

I shrug. He looks me over, going me a nod. “I'll see you when I get home. Be here, Desiree.”

He leaves, and I smirk. Be here, he says?

Yeah, right.