𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐢𝐫𝐝

31

valentina 

Breakfast is interesting to say the least.

The food is fucking incredible for starters and thank the lords it is because I get to stuff my face instead of looking at Luna, who's smiling like a lunatic across the table at Matteo and I. Imara is sat beside her and Lorenzo is sat next to Matteo, both of them unsuspecting of the tension between the three of us.

"Did you sleep well Valentina? First night out of America and all." Luna questions innocently with sparkling eyes and I nearly choke on my food.

"I did, my bed was very comfortable." I reply kindly, shooting her a warning look that I'm sure she picks up on.

"That's always nice isn't it."

After that, the rest of breakfast goes pretty smoothly apart from the ball of anxiety that's building in my stomach, growing lager with every passing minute. Matteo and I haven't talked yet, we've been too wrapped up in some weird fucking bubble that we don't want to burst by finding out that we both want different things.

What do I want?

Him.

I just can't handle a relationship right now or ever. The thought of committing to one person, giving them all of me, makes me want to throw up.

It just leaves me with the question, what does he want?

Fuck, this is why we need to talk. We need to figure out what we're doing and if we want to keep doing it, even though I doubt that we can go back to how we were before now that I know how lips feel on mine.

And then there's the matter of Luna. She's not going to let it go easily. I met her yesterday and I already know that she's a stubborn one, if she wants an answer she'll get an answer, one way or another.

-

I change into some black flared jeans and a crew neck sweatshirt before walking down stairs to meet Matteo by the front door.

We make our way to the car garage in a loud silence that only seems to grow nosier when we get into one of the black cars that probably cost more than I'm worth.

Radio music attempts to fill our quietness but fails miserably when our unspoken words cut through anyway.

I lean on a the palm of my hand, staring out at the road in front. The scenery here is so beautiful that it's almost enough to distract me from our overdue conversation.

Key word being almost.

The car comes to a stop and we both climb out. The cold bite of the early November wind nips at my skin and I tug on my sleeves for warmth, wishing that I'd worn more layers as I follow behind Matteo, who's walking through the cobbled streets.

Eventually I catch up with him and we fall into step, still bathing in the lingering silence.

I take the chance to take in my surroundings, something that I often forget to do. Cafes and bars and restaurants line the streets, wafting the scent of their enticing food out into the avenues.

People flow casually in and out of places, everyone smiling and minding their own business, some taking photos and other siting on benches.

The air feels cleaner here than it does in America and I'm not convinced that it's just the air pollution that makes the difference.

It's roughly midday right now, early afternoon-ish, having woken up late and eaten a late breakfast that technically counts as brunch, I'm full but don't object when we walk into a small café.

The walls of the café are painted yellow and pictures of who I'm guessing are family and friends sit proudly up on the walls. People sit on woven chairs and wooden tables and the smell of coffee and pastries float through the air. A mixture of conversations from small talk, chefs calling out to each other, old people shouting so that they can hear the other to parents trying to calm their crazy children.

Everything about this place screams home.

We settle on a small table at the back right hand corner of the café, tucked away from the main floor and order hot chocolates.

Italian hot chocolates.

"We're should talk about it right?" I lean back in my chair, fighting the urge to run away.

After a beat her replies. "Yeah, we should." And then we fall back into silence.

Why is this so hard? I mean, talking to him is always easy, I could talk to him for hours without even realising so why is this any different?

My inner voice screams 'because you're scared'.

The waitress places both of our drinks down in front of us before we can even attempt to elaborate and I sigh.

Tracing the run of the mug with the pad of my finger, I keep my eyes downcast to avoid all eye contact.

"What are we doing?"

My question hangs heavy between us.

"I mean it Matteo, what are we doing?" I repeat when he doesn't reply.

"I don't know."

His green eyes meet my brown, his eyebrows pull together and for once he looks lost. For once, he looks unsure and that scares me just as much as I know that it scares him because I don't know either.

"I don't want a relationship, ever."

"Neither do I." He replies, his voice low and raspy.

"Then what are we doing?"

"I don't know."

We are going to go around in fucking circles because we are both too stubborn for this shit.

I can't get mad at him for not knowing because I don't know either, so where does that leave us?

"If we were to carry on how we are right now and the time comes where we get bored of whatever this is between us, we just stop?"

His face crunches up in frustration and I grimace.

"Or we can just end it now, before we get too attached, before things get too complicated, before feelings get involved."

I weigh up both options in my head. Neither of them are ideal, the first is dangerous and leaves a shit ton of room for miscommunication and blurred lines and the second makes my heart hurt a little.

But I'd rather my heart hurt a little now than a lot later.

"I think we should just stop now. Go back to the way things were before, we can avoid things getting messy, because we both know that's how it would end."

Matteo's grip on the mug tightness but he doesn't protest.

"You're right, it's easier this way." He replies gruffly and I nod.

Then why doesn't this feel easy?

And why is everything in me screaming no.

I cram those thoughts into a tiny ball and mentally throw it off the cliff that I jump off ten times a day in my head.

The thoughts find their way back though and I can't stop myself from questioning if we both just made a mistake. 

Did I just throw away my one chance to be happy or did I just save myself from inevitable heartbreak?  

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

honestly don't know why i just did that

sorry

also 3k views kinda scary but thanks 

vote bitches or don't u don't have to 

<3