Whispers of Truth | Matt Sturniolo

𝒳𝒳𝐼𝐼

𝘼𝙧𝙖𝙗𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙖 𝙋𝙧𝙞𝙘𝙚

The fragile bubble of our shared moment seemed to burst as Chris's phone began to vibrate with a relentless stream of notifications. Our attention was swiftly diverted from the rustling bushes to the digital world encased in his device. He pulled out his phone, his fingers moving urgently, and his eyes widened with a mix of disbelief and concern.

"Holy shit" he breathed, his voice tinged with shock and urgency.

I reached for his phone, my curiosity piqued, and as I gazed at the screen, my expression mirrored his. The video displayed us in the throes of our passionate kiss, a recording that had been taken from the shadows of the bushes.

Someone had been watching, filming our intimate moment, and now it was trending, an unexpected and intrusive presence in the digital world. The video had not only gone viral on TikTok but had been shared by the beloved influencer @𝘵𝘪𝘬𝘵𝘰𝘬𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮𝘵𝘮, magnifying the intrusion into our private connection and sending shockwaves through our already complex relationship.

"This is incredibly fucked." I muttered, my gaze still fixed on the video that had invaded our privacy. I watched and rewatched it about three times, my emotions swirling with a mix of frustration, anger, and unease.

"We can post Insta stories," Chris suggested, his eyes fixed on me with a mixture of concern and determination. "I'll, fuck, I'll say it meant nothing. I'll bullshit it so it doesn't become a big deal and then—"

My frustration swirled within me like a tempest, finding its voice in words that spilled forth with a mix of exasperation and anger. "You'll bullshit it? Oh my god, Chris, you're ridiculous!" I exclaimed, the intensity of the moment engraved across my face.

Every word carried the weight of our impulsive actions, and the storm of emotions that had swirled around us. "First, you want to go on a fake date, and then you just waltz back into my life, make out with me in the rain. It ends up getting posted on the internet, and you want to bullshit your way out of it?"

Chris sighed, a mixture of remorse and frustration flickering across his features. "I'm sorry, Arabella. I didn't mean for any of this to happen." he paused, licking his lips as he looked around. The droplets of water falling across his face "It's just, Matt said—"

"Matt said," I scoffed, my heart heavy with a mix of longing and guilt. This was everything I had yearned for since I was twelve, a secret wish I had kept hidden deep within me: for Christopher Owen Sturniolo to fall in love with me. Now, with his confession, the truth stung. It wasn't a moment of pure, heartfelt revelation but a decision influenced by his brother.

The words hung in the air, heavy with a mixture of disbelief and disappointment. "You did all this because of something Matt said?" I asked, a twinge of hurt coloring my voice. The fact that, even if I couldn't reciprocate the feelings for Chris like I had for all those years, it took his brother's intervention to bring him here tonight weighed on me.

My voice quivered, and the torrential rain outside matched the flood of emotions welling up within me. As Chris's gaze remained locked on mine, I held back my tears, the frigid rain soaking me to the bone. The thunder rumbled overhead, and I practically yelled, my words a tumultuous mix of anger and despair. "POST YOUR STUPID STORY, FUCK YOU, CHRIS!"

Chris's fingers gently closed around my hand, halting my attempt to shut the door in his face. His touch sent a shiver down my spine, and as he leaned in closer, his lips brushed against my ear. The moisture from his lips and nose left a damp trail that added to the rain pouring down my neck. "If you walk away from this, from us," he whispered, his words laced with urgency, "then consider it you walking away from my brothers too."