: ̗̀➛ part three of the
one for the road series
SNOWFALL / CL16
in which two childhood friends reunite. a formula one driver wants to learn how to snowboard and it just so happens that the daughter of his mum's be...
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✧ ˚ · . CHAPTER TWENTY . · ˚✧ your heart was glass, I dropped it
🎶 angels like you by miley cyrus & mess it up by gracie abrams & the great war by taylor swift (sorry)
palermo, sicily, summer 2014
Adapting to life on a (rather large) boat after four weeks in a villa proved to be a rather interesting adjustment. Not only was it strange no longer waking up to the rustling of orange blossom leaves outside of my window, but the seasickness was a side effect I had decided I could easily live without.
When my father had announced we were 'leaving' he had not been speaking of Sicily. Instead, he had been referring to the villa I had come to love dearly. As a surprise, our parents had arranged a surprise stay on a yacht to roam the coast, broadening our horizons beyond Palermo and the comfortable area we'd explored in the Jeep.
However, even though we often spent the first half of the day on the boat on our way to the next destination and the second half exploring said destination, I was growing crazy with the proximity of my parents so close to me. There was no pool or beach to escape to, even the rooms were smaller and the walls were paper thin. I could hear Alfie's God-awful singing whenever he took a shower in the bathroom.
Oh yes, the added annoyance was that I had to share a bathroom with four guys. I had expected it to be fine, until I found out that the four of them together could spend a combined two hours in there—if I was lucky. Usually, Charles was last and would allow me in while the others were distracted, so that I could brush my teeth and curl my hair while he styled his for the evening. It always ended in me pressed up against the sink with his lips attached to mine.
And yet, there was constantly a strange tension in the air. My father would disappear suddenly after dinner and reappear in the morning with croissants and fresh fruit, Charles was slightly distant, Alfie and Lorenzo were distracted, Mum was sad. I felt like I was going crazy consistently noticing the little details, because as soon as I asked, everyone pretended to be fine.
I blotted concealer on my neck, a habit that had become daily—every time the marks faded, Charles would make it his personal duty to add new ones. It had caused Alfie to snicker one too many times in the past few days, as he now looked for any opportunity to throw my relationship with Charles in my face.
We had docked at Catania, an ancient port on the other side of Sicily, for the evening. My father had booked a reservation at some fancy restaurant, and so I had bought a new dress while shopping today—a stunning red number with long sleeves and a short skirt. It showed the exact right amount of boob and leg, something I knew Charles would appreciate. I'd bought it especially with the thought of him pulling it off tonight.
