Oblivious

15 // Hoard of butterflies

Luftmensch
(n.) an impractical dreamer with no business sense; one with their head in the clouds

-Elora-

Sitting on my bed, legs crossed under me I glare at Elijah who stands at the edge of my bed blinking at me.

My book that Elijah dropped is sitting safely in my arms as I run my fingers along the spine. "Apologise."

Elijah blinks at me 3 times before rolling his eyes with a huff. "Elora, for the 3rd time I'm not apologising to your book."

Elijah's getting agitated I can tell. I don't care. He dropped my precious book, he needs to apologise for it. "Elijah you could have seriously damaged it."

Elijah makes a move to sit down on the bed, I stick my leg out to stop him. He can sit when he apologies. "I wouldn't have dropped it if you didn't jump on me."

"I wouldn't have had to jump on you if you gave it back when I asked." My arms tighten around the book and I can feel my cheeks heating.

Only a moment ago Elijah had this book in his hand as he read what I read. As he smirked down at me and I blushed up at him.

Elijah blinks at me once, glares and makes a move to sit on the floor. "stupida bella ragazza." (Stupid pretty girl)

I blink at Elijah, entirely stunned. "What does that mean?"

Elijah watches as I place the book down and lean over the edge of the bed. "It's Italian for sorry."

Narrowing my eyes at Elijah he only blinks back. "Are you lying?"

Elijah shakes his head at me, eyes a little wider then usual. "Good."

Rolling and doing some sort of ninja move I land in front of Elijah on the floor. "You speak Italian?"

Elijah stares at me for a moment, watching as I place some of my hair behind my ear then realise I did that and undo it. "Not fluently, my only dad's half Italian."

Nodding at him I place both his hands in my own. "And your mum?" I glance at Elijah before looking back down at the palms of his hands. He's got a few scratches and they're not as soft as I expected them to be.

"She's British." I nod at him. Half Italian half British, maybe? I dont exactly know how genetics and heritage works. But we digress. cool. Letting go of his hands I lean back behind me and shuffle around in my makeup bag before pulling out my bottle of hand cream.

Elijah watches silently as I take his hands again, squeezing a little into his hand and massaging it through with my own. "What is this stuff?"

"It's makes your hands soft. Smells like oranges too." I hold one hand upto Elijah's face. "See?"

Elijah takes hold of my hand and brings it to his nose as he tries to smell the oranges.

He nods and let's go of my hand. I finish massaging it into his own.

"Do you have any siblings?" Elijah half smiles down at me. "I've got two. An older brother and a younger sister."