𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐩

𝟕 || 𝐑𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚

A mixy mix for you guys😋

Aldric

I hate mornings. I can feel the burning sensation tingle under my eyelids, immediately knowing it's the sun shining through the window. Rolling over to turn away from the heat, I feel something shift. What the fuck? I squint slightly and see the body beside me. I quickly realize who it is. Did this cagna seriously not leave yet?
{TRANSLATION: Bitch}

I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday that she would leave as soon as we're done, I don't even recall falling asleep.

I slowly open my eyes fully, adjusting to the brightness that's making them squint by themselves. I don't hesitate to pull my body away from hers.

''Wake up.'' I grit out, rushing up and into my closet. Grabbing a pair of boxers and grey sweatpants, I glance at the girl shifting and humming in her sleep.

''I'm not playing no games, get the fuck up and leave.'' I spit out, swiftly dragging the curtains away from the window, the room getting covered in a coat of sunshine.

''Okay, okay. I'm up.'' Her voice is smooth and soft, which fucking annoys me.

I don't spare her a minute as I head towards the kitchen, setting my eyes on the coffee maker. Of course, they don't have the good shit here. But then again, nobody makes better coffee than Vintage Café.

I remember back when I first found that café a couple weeks back, I hated the taste of black coffee. But there was something about that way they made it, and I kept going back. I thought that it was just the atmosphere of the café that drew me back to it whenever I was in town. Nowadays, that's the only coffee I drink.

Snapping out of my daze, I realize the coffee is done. Ripping open the little packages of sugar, I switch off the machine. After giving it a little mix, I take a sip. The strong, bitter taste fills my senses and I immediately spit it out. Fuck, I wish I was at the café right now. And that ragazza matta was making my coffee.
{TRANSLATION: Crazy girl}

Walking towards the bedroom I glance at the bed, that puttana is still here. "Why are you still here. I thought I told you to get the fuck out." I demand gritting my teeth.
{TRANSLATION: Whore}

She glances at me with a little sad puppy look on her face. Pathetic.

Seeing as I'm not giving in, she sulks out of my bedroom, wearing her clothes from last night. She sends me a quick dirty look before I hear the door slam shut. Rolling my eyes, I glance back at the coffee maker. That coffee is shit, who the fuck thought that it was a good idea for it to exist.

I'm craving one specific kind of coffee. The coffee that tastes so fucking good. However, I fucking hate seeing one person in particular. And that one person is the one who makes the coffee.

Apparently my feet have a mind of their own, as they drag me along with them towards my sport bike. My darling Yamaha YZF-R6. Putting my black tinted helmet on, I rev up the engine. And that's all it takes for me to arrive at the café not even an hour later.

___

I enter the café, the bells chiming in response as the door drags open.

''Welcome!'' A masculine voice greets me, and I glance around the place. Not many people are around. I guess that's because they opened half an hour ago. ''What would you like to order?'' His stupid smile doesn't moving an inch, and my eyes drift to the name tag on his apron. Adam. ''Black coffee, two sugars." I immediately spit out, not even thinking twice about it. Just then, my stomach growls and I remember that I haven't ate anything yet. "...and one of those chocolate muffins.'' I respond, retrieving my wallet out of my back pocket.