𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬 ✍︎

21| 𝙰.𝙷.𝚁

Dove's POV
Age: 10
Location: Ricci's Mansion, New York

My eyes feel heavy as I slowly gain consciousness. I have a pounding headache, probably from crying so much.

A feeling of shame floods through me when I realize that my father saw me crying last night. So did my mother.

They probably think I'm a pathetic child now.

I shift slightly and realize that someone's arm is wrapped around me. Judging by how muscular the arm is, it's my father's.

"Good morning principessa," he says in a soft voice. I don't respond. My throat feels kind of scratchy.

"Are you alright?" He asks softly as I slowly push myself into a sitting position. Not wanting to give a verbal response, I shrug.

Like every morning after a dream, I feel extra needy. Like if I don't get physical attention right now, I'll breakdown again.

Hesitantly, I climb onto my father's chest. I watch his face as I lie down on top of him. He doesn't seem upset or disappointed, if anything he looks desperate for something.

I lay my head on top of his heart. My eyes close as I listen to it beat steadily.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He asks softly, bringing a hand to stroke my hair.

I tense. Should I tell him? Ella used to try to get me to talk about my dreams. She said it would help. But I never had enough courage to admit that I let those things happen.

I open my mouth to say something, but my voice seems to dissapear. It feels gone.

My father seems to understand. "It's alright. You don't have to tell me."

He continues to stroke my hair as he does something on his phone. Neither of us talk, we just enjoy each other's presence.

I'm close to falling asleep again when I hear someone walking down the hall. Listening closely, I recognize the sound as my mother's footsteps. I've only been here a couple days, but I've already learnt the sound of everyone's footsteps.

I lift my head to look at the door just as my mother walks in. She looks a little flustered, but gives me a warm smile when she sees me.

"Good morning little princess." She walks over to me and lifts me from my father's chest. She places soft kisses all over my face, making me blush. "How does some breakfast sound?"

I nod enthusiastically, thinking about the pancakes I had at Ella's house. Those were so yummy.

When we enter the dining room, I see everyone, except my father and uncles, are present. Luca, Dante, Diego, and Marcus also seems to be missing.

My mother seats me in the empty chair next to Tristan and hands me a plate with pancakes on it. Only these ones have something brownish spread on the top.

I narrow my eyes at the brown substance. I've never seen something like that.

"What's wrong?" Tristan asks. I point at the brown spread. He gives me a confused look. "Nutella?"

"It's chocolate," Daniel clarifies from across the table. "It's sweet, like ice cream."

I pick some up with my finger and hesitantly stick it in my mouth. The sweet, creamy spread explodes on my taste buds.

A quiet hum bubbles up in my throat. Ignoring the fact that even that slight noise makes my throat hurt, I take another swipe of the chocolate.

"I think she likes it," Dylan says in a dramatic whisper. I roll my eyes slightly as I grab my utensils and cut into the fluffy heaven.