Don

3

MELANIE GROANED in derision.

"I'm not f*****g him again, Kelly! He was a great lay, but I've already smashed and dashed; I don't like leftovers."

Melanie and her best friend Kelly walked down the hall to their psych class.

"Leftovers are good—"

"—Leftovers are clingy." Melanie finished flatly.

"Just one more time?"

"No!"

"But I need to live vicariously through you," Kelly pleaded/demanded in a Kelly-like fashion.

"No, you don't. Just f**k him yourself," she shrugged nonchalantly, adding: "He's highly recommended."

"I can't."

"And why not? I assure you, as long as you can halfway walk, suck and own the proper equipment for the job, you're fine."

Kelly wrinkled her nose and blinked at that horrifying description.

"Okay, that was an odd mix of handyman qualifications and a one-year-old's checkup."

Melanie simply shrugged unconcernedly.

"Meh."

The two women walked into their psych class and directly into two men.

Kelly fell over DiAngelo, bumping her head on his and promptly losing consciousness.

Melanie stumbled into Pietro, effectively knocking him down and revealing her identity.

As his head throbbed on the floor of the classroom, flashes of images from that night came back to him.

It was her!

He didn't recall using protection, though.

He didn't even recall making it to the bed, but apparently, they did somehow.

"You!" He pointed accusingly at Melanie.

She wagged his finger, patronizing him.

Briefly, he considered blowing a hole her head for mocking him, but he pushed that thought aside.

"Me!"

"What is your name?" He demanded, his accent thick in anger.

Melanie said nothing in response, instead raising an uninterested dark brow.

DiAngelo realized who she was and that's when things got really interesting.

"Hey!" DiAngelo cried out rather gleefully, "You're the holy hoe!"

Melanie looked at him, perturbed but not necessarily offended.

Pietro gaped at her, his expression effectively saying, 'I'm stupid.'

Melanie would have to agree

⚪⚫⚪

Ten minutes later, Kelly was still unconscious, Pietro was still speechless and Melanie still didn't care.

The only thing that had changed during those ten minutes was DiAngelo's focus.

Instead of continuing praising the 'holy hoe' for her feats of utter humiliation, he was now staring at unconscious Kelly with a frown of frustrated confusion.

"What is your name?" Pietro asked again, this time softly.

After two months of stewing and planning to 'regain his kingdom', he found he wasn't particularly concerned with that anymore.

He just wanted her name.

"Melanie," she replied shortly, flinging a concerned glance at her best friend had been unconscious entirely too long to be healthy.

Giving a mournful stare at her best friends attire, she realized she'd have to work to get her over her shoulder.

"I just..." Pietro trailed off unsurely. Mainly because he was unsure about what he just.

"You just...?"

"Wanted to know your name," he shrugged, halfway lying.

"Why? What purpose does knowing my name serve?"

Pietro didn't answer that; he didn't have an answer to give. He had a round of bullets in a pistol with a sawed-off serial number in his pocket, but again, he pushed that thought aside.

"Did I... Use protection?"

"No." Pietro's stare honed in on Melanie's flat tummy.

"Do you have my baby?"

An unwarranted gleam entered his dark eyes at the prospect.

"That wasn't even remotely grammatically correct."

Pietro stared at her while whispering conspiratorially to his otherwise transfixed brother.

"Pensi che lei abbia i miei bambini, fratello?"

(Do you think she has my babies, bro?)

"No, idiota. I vostri bambini sono meglio lasciati non fecondato."

(No, i***t. Your babies are better left unfertilized)

"I'm not pregnant, ignoramus."

Pietro deflated. He seemed rather disappointed.

In truth, he was. Why? Only God knows.

"I've gotta go. She needs to checked out—"

Melanie frowned, shaking her head regretfully at the multiple things Kelly needed to get checked out for.

"For her possible concussion, that is."

"I'll take her," DiAngelo volunteered.

Melanie declined less than politely, noting that he'd been staring at the unconscious woman like a creep, and that really made trust points go down in him,

To this, DiAngelo nodded sagely.

"Good. That's good that you don't trust me with her."

Melanie c****d a brow at the odd pair but said nothing.

She threw Kelly over her shoulder, elbowing through the crowd that had formed, and left.

C O M M E N T

V O T E⭐️

F A N