Bullied from a young age due to his odd eye colour and shy nature, Giovanni Rossi has always tried to stay hidden in the shadows.
It was all going to plan until he caught the eye of Matteo De Campo.
After finally getting a lead on a well known sex...
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'Sometimes when I say "I'm okay", I want someone to look me in the eyes, hug me tight and say, "I know you're not".'
I am not a morning person.
Waking up with the sun blinding my eyes was not a great start to my day and I wanted nothing more than to close my eyes and go back to sleep but I couldn't.
Today was a new day and after the scene I created yesterday, I owed Mr De Campo an apology and hoped that I didn't make things more awkward than they already were.
Getting up was a struggle, especially with my injured wrist; even though it was no longer bleeding, the scratch hadn't scabbed up yet and from previous experiences, I knew better than to leave it unbandaged.
After brushing my teeth, showering, getting changed and wrapping up my wrist with a new bandage, I looked at myself in the mirror.
My eyes were red from last night and my hair was all over the place. I tried my best to run my fingers through it in attempt to tame the curls but it was no use. I pulled my hoodie sleeves up to my fingers and looked away, not wanting to see my reflection for any longer.
Grabbing my phone, I checked my messages and clicked on the one my mamma sent me this morning.
'Good morning mio coraggioso ragazzo (my brave boy), I hope you have a better day today. Remember I'm always here for you, ti amo (I love you) x'
Smiling at her message, I sent her an 'I love you' back and put my phone in my pocket.
A knock at the door startled me and I ran to open it. Taking a deep breath, I cautiously opened the door and was greeting by Charles.
"Good morning Mr Rossi, I hope you slept well. Mr De Campo was wondering if you would like to join him for breakfast?", he asked, waiting for a response from me.
"Um, y-yes that sounds good", I replied, surprised that he still wanted to talk to me after I freaked out on him yesterday and left so abruptly.
Charles lead the way downstairs and towards the kitchen. I tried my best to remember the way there from my room but I have a feeling it will take me a while to get used to where everything is around here.
Suddenly we stopped in front of a door and Charles turned around to face me.
"I've got some urgent work to do but if you just go through this door, Mr De Campo should be inside", he said, giving me a smile before going down the corridor and disappearing from eye sight.
Taking a deep breath, I opened the door and entered the room.
I looked around in awe as the room was bright from the morning sun shining through the massive windows. The counters were white marble with matching marble heated flooring. The sinks and handles of the cupboards were gold and in the middle of the kitchen was a huge island with four bar stools on one side and on the other was a 6"2 Italian man flipping, or trying to flip, pancakes.
I didn't even realise when he noticed I was standing there until I heard him speak.
"Good morning", he said, his deep voice snapping me out of my thoughts.
"Good morning", I replied back quietly, walking towards him.
I could feel his eyes on me and I tried my best to walk in a straight line without looking up or tripping over my own feet.
"Do you need any help?", I offered, looking down at the bowl of pancake mix.
"It's alright, I'm almost done", he said, putting a golden fluffy pancake on a plate.
Taking that as my cue to take a seat, I made my way around the island and sat down on the chair facing opposite him.
"I wanted to apologise for yesterday. I was being intrusive and unprofessional. You don't have to answer any of the questions I asked", he said, placing a plate in front of me and making his way around the table to take a seat.
"I-I should be the one saying sorry. I shouldn't have just left like that. You were only being cautious about the people your letting in your house, I totally understand", I replied, grabbing the syrup and drizzling it all over my pancakes.
"Even though you have nothing to apologise for, lets just call it even and hope that tonight's dinner goes better", he said whilst leaning over and grabbing the bottle of syrup next to me, his arm flexing in front of my eyes.
"D-Dinner? Tonight?", I questioned, hoping I didn't forget about something important happening in the evening.
"Oh, well I just assumed we were eating dinner together today after work but if you have plans you're welc-"
"No!", I said embarrassingly louder that I expected to. "I mean no, I don't have any other plans for tonight", I said shyly, stuffing my face with food so no more humiliating words come out of my mouth.
"Great, pasta sound good?", he asked collecting both of our empty plates and taking them to the sink.
"Pasta is my favourite actually", I said, mostly to myself but by the small smile on his face, I could tell that he heard.
Noticing he was about to wash up, I ran towards the sink.
"I'll wash up", I said, reaching to grab the plate, not realising my sleeve had risen up, revealing my bandaged wrist.
His silence told me all I needed to know; he had seen it and there was nothing I could do about it.
I didn't know what he was going to do, but what I didn't expect was for him to drop the plate and walk off.
