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"You know, I think you're secretly in love with my chocolate puns." I tell him.
"Of course I am." He deadpans, "Just like you're in love with butterflies."
"But I hate butterflies.." I reply
"I know, idiot."
☽✦☁︎✦☾
𝐒𝐨𝐟𝐢𝐚 𝐕𝐚𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐬...
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ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ᴘʀᴏᴍɪsᴇᴅ..
☽✦☁︎✦☾
Home wasn't where I was going to. Home wasn't anything. I'd never felt 'at home'.
I'd felt safe, I'd felt happy, I'd had my parents. But I'd never felt 'at home'.
I could never tell my parents, they were too busy and didn't want me to always get involved. But somehow I was involved.
I was their only child after all.
But being in the Mafia came with consequences. Consequences including having to watch your best friend die, while you couldn't do anything.
I shake my head.
Today, I couldn't worry, no, I had to stay strong, for mum.
"Dad, are you sure we have to go back?" I ask.
"Yes, Atlas, I'm sure." He sighs, "I know it's hard, considering- what happened- but it's not safe here anymore."
"Right." I sigh.
"Can you help your mother, please?" He asks me and I nod, walking to her.
One (and the only) good thing about moving back was the fact that I could get back into street racing. My car hasn't hit 150 in a while, I think she misses it. I know I do.
"Ah! Honey!" My mother smiles as she sees me, "Help me with the boxes, will you?"
I nod before carrying one to the moving van outside.
My bet is that the bitch, Anna or whatever, will start bothering me again. She's in love with someone who won't love her back. After a night stand.
Pathetic, honestly.
I load in the last box, closing the van door as I turn back to my dad. I can't believe we're moving back after a year in a different country. Maybe this was planned, though, to stay under the radar for a while, while things died down back in the States. Maybe that's why only my car was transported to Italy.
"Buon viaggio, signore." One of the butlers said.
"Si, grazie." I reply.
My father had already sent my car back to the states.. I missed her.
Well. Now I have to go back. If not by choice, then for my baby.
After an hour or driving, we made it to the airport. The airport was crowded and stuffy, it was a pretty big one though. There were too many people going at once. Was something happening?
My mother had told me to try and get some rest, but I couldn't sleep. I rarely did anymore. Even when I did, I'd have nightmares and end up getting up and going for a drive.
