ME AND HIM ✔️

Pt.2

R U E

WE WERE standing on the door step. My mother, straightening up herself, looking somewhat "presentable". My father, going through files he had in his hand. Making sure he had everything he needed. Then there's me and my brother. We didn't want to be here if that wasn't obvious.

My brother doesn't like being around groups of people or a crowd. I could tell he was nervous, because the sound of his foot tapping against the floor filled the silence. I fiddled with a loose string on my jacket, tugging at it, causing a part of my jacket to shrivel.

"This isn't Elizabeth's house." My mom says to me. I scrunch my eyebrows.

"Who's is it?"

"Their son's."

A loud voice, interrupts the silence.

"Oh my goodness! Camila! You look wonderful as ever." A woman with black hair and sharp cheekbones says, opening her arms and embracing my mom.

"You as well Elizabeth!" My mother says returning the hug. They stare at each other for a minute, but then the lady turns her attention to us. Me and my brother.

"Oh, are these your children?" The lady, whom I'm gonna guess is Elizabeth, asks. I don't want to be rude. But who else would we be? But then it hit me that I've never met ANYONE in my Mafia. Shocker, I know.

"Yes this is my daughter." My mom looks at me smiling. "And this is my son." she looked at my brother.

"Ah, they're absolutely beautiful." Elizabeth states. Her smile is warm and welcoming. She seems nice. I'm guessing she is nice. She looks like a beautiful young women. Deeply tanned skin, brown eyes, and long black hair. "How old are they?"

My mom looks back to me. "Rue is eighteen," she turns to Alex and smiles. "Alex is nineteen."

"Ah. you're children are only a year apart. That must be nice."

My mom shrugs her shoulders and lets out a brief laugh. "Sometimes."

"Well let's not waste anymore time, Avanti. Come in. Harlem is waiting on us." Elizabeth says. She steps aside to let us in. And when we do, I get a whiff of fresh food. It was nice.

Unfortunately, I wasn't hungry.

"Eliot." I heard a deep voice call out. A man in an all black suit appears from a dark hallway.

"Harlem." My Dad says with a deep chuckle while shaking the mans hand.

"It's great to see you!" Harlem says, he turns his attention to me and my brother, "Are these your kids?"

What is it with everyone and that question?

"Oh yes, yes. This is Rue and Alex." My dad says motioning between the two of us.

Harlem looked at me, and for some reason it gave me chills down my spine, "You and your mother look very alike." He motions between the two of us.

It's true. Me and my mother share our red hair, freckles, brown eyes, and pale skin.

Speaking of pale skin, let me tell you a funny story real fast. I am very white. It's not an oblivious fact. I was born in Puerto Rico, my mom and dad were on a business trip, and my mom ended up going into labor. Every time she tells me that story, she always brings up the fact that when I was born, my father didn't believe that I was his daughter. I guess he didn't like the fact that I looked like my mom instead of him. I was kind of hoping I wasn't biological to my dad. I liked the thought of my mom cheating on him.

No surprise that Alex is his favorite. They share the same black hair, tan skin, and good form. And sometimes, I find myself staring at them side by side, and wishing that I was the glory child. Cause while Alex gets love from both parents, I'm stuck with only half affection.