Between us and only us (Scamacca & Y/n)

Chapter 15

We get back to his after maybe a 40 minute drive. I realise Declan was also there and if remember correctly so was Jarrod. Why didn't they drive together? Then I remember the conversation I overheard about Gianluca planning to hook up and how I ruined that probably. I don't know why he goes to all the fuss of keeping me around I hardly seem worth it.

We get to his and it's raining again, it's a quick 10 metre run to the door. We get in and he turns on one of the living room lights. It's soft and subtle. The walls are a dusk purple, maybe they'd seem brighter in the daylight but I don't know if I can emotionally afford the price of staying long enough to find out. There's a small step down from the door to get to the living room floor. The whole decor of the room seems dusked, all darker shades of blue and purple with hints of white with the wooden furniture of the room.

"If you come upstairs with me I'll get you some clothes and room to change" He says after hanging his jacket up to dry over the radiator, I follow him up the stair case where he picks me out an old shirt and some jogging bottoms.

He leaves to go downstairs and it's not long before I hear the kettle going. I put them on and naturally the legs are too long, despite my anger I can't help but giggle and the thought of size of the legs someone 6ft 5 must have. The giggle almost hurts and almost puts me on the verge of tears but I swallow it down. I feel the lump in my throat that holds everything I want to say, all the tears I want to cry and all the emotions I'm going to bottle up because right now I don't have the energy to deal with them.

I sit on the edge of the bed and look around. There's not much to the room: it's mostly white in decor and furnish, wooden floors, a large window to the left of me over looking a garden and a large mirror same in size to the right of me. I walk downstairs and Gianuca has made us both a coffee set on the table in the middle of the room.

"I got you a blanket and some pillows" I see them stacked on the arm rest of the sofa.

"Thank you" it's still hard to talk louder than a whisper. The lump in my throat bears it so, I feel if I break it and try to talk any louder is when the floodgates will open.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"Stay with me" I rush to answer because I don't want to be alone right now "please" the cry for help breaks the lump in my throat. He sits down and I sit next to him as he puts his arm around me and lay my head on his shoulder the floodgates open.

I can't talk even if I knew what to say all I can muster right now is tears. The crying is embodying and takes over.

He holds me as close as he physically can. I shuffle so my legs stretch over his lap and we're both hugging as I cry into his shoulder. I don't think I'll now ever smell vanilla and coffee the same ever again, it will always bring me back here.

So if you'd asked me 2 months ago where I'd thought I'd be; I don't think I would've said in his arms, on his sofa, intoxicated by the smell of him,

Crying my eyes out.