Celeste's childhood wasn't something she loved talking about. It was filled with nothing but painful memories. Whether they were the ones from when her father, along with her brothers, left, or the ones from her mother's death and her stepfather's a...
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GETTING TWO hours of sleep might have not been the best option I had.
My chin rested on top of my open palm; my sore eyelids repeatedly fluttered as they begged for the permission to remain shut for a while longer. The sleep I so desperately needed tried to swallow me into its peaceful embrace, but I managed to break free from its grip and to make it back to the surface.
A throbbing pain had occupied every corner of my head ever since I had woken up. Exhaustion and tiredness had accompanied it. Nausea surged from my stomach; an unsettling feeling engulfed my entire chest. Both worked together and forbade me from eating any of the food resting on the table before my gaze.
I paid no attention to the conversation ongoing between Armani and Dante as I dug deeply within my mind for words I could say when meeting Enzo, as I also began to prepare myself for the worst possibilities that could take place once I meet him—for the worst events that I could witness.
My hands continued to fiddle with the hem belonging to my dark hoodie, and my gaze remained fixed on my lap. My thoughts raced so wildly at the back of my mind, forcing a sob to cling to the walls of my throat. I swallowed harshly, holding it back, and let my gaze drift to Marco once he nudged my shoulder.
"You should try Dante's pancakes," he quietly murmured to me, probably so that Dante wouldn't hear him. "They taste so good."
"I am not hungry," I informed my twin, quietly gazing back at my food. I inhaled sharply, feeling my chest constrict and my lungs burn as a result, before I exhaled. I then moved my plate a bit to the right so that it would be in front of Marco as I glanced at him. "You can take mine if you want."
Marco shook his head a no. "I can take some from there." He pointed at the pancakes resting on the center of the table as he let the corners of his lips lift into a faint grin, as though he had gotten an idea he liked. "Why don't you try eating some and take the rest for Lorenzo?"
My eyes widened slightly. "Can I really do that?" I questioned; my voice was so quiet, and hesitation was coating my tone. Hope blossomed within my heart, and I didn't stop it from doing so. Enzo liked pancakes.
Marco's head moved up and down as he nodded. His grin widened. "Dad was planning to pack some for him either way."
My gaze shifted to Armani who was leaning against the wall and lingered on his figure for a while. His arms were crossed firmly over his chest, and his demeanor seemed calm and composed as he spoke to my older brother.
Dante, on the other hand, had his eyebrows furrowed in something similar to confusion and concern both at once. His gaze wandered all through the kitchen, but it avoided mine at all costs. He let a seemingly frustrated huff out at one point before he nodded in response to whatever Armani had told him.
"Did you take your meds?"
I blinked, tearing my gaze away from the scene unfolding before it. Steel-blue eyes locked with my identical ones once I let my neck crane toward my twin; my head moved from a side to the other as I shook it. "Not yet." I swallowed my bitter saliva back once I took note of the disapproval creeping to Marco's face as I pushed myself into speaking once more. "I'll take them before leaving."
