Afraid•Niccolo Genoveder Rossi •

seventeen

| The following morning|

|Niccolo|

I woke up that morning, in Virgina's house. My head pounded.

Maybe I overdid it just a tad bit.
A cup too much of whatever the hell was in that bowl.

I sat up, and glanced over at a sleeping Virginia on my side.

I needed to see Serena.
I needed to make sure she was okay.
Because at school I always knew where she was.
She could be with Marco for all I know.
That stupid bastard.
Marco got to drive her home.
We aren't even friends any more.
Brando's my new right hand now.

I slipped out of Virgina's bed and quietly exited the room. I started my car and drove. I drove to her house.

I parked my car across from her house and knocked on the door.

Nobody answered.

I rang the doorbell this time.

Nobody answered.

I opened the door.

It felt weird.
Being in her house.
The weirdo's house.

I went down the hall and opened a random door.
It was her bedroom.
She was still asleep.
She had tear stained cheeks and dark circles.
She was still beautiful.
She fussed a little.
She rubbed her eyes.
And sat up.
Her eyes widened.

|Serena|

What the fuck?
Was I hallucinating?
He was right there.
Standing there.
Looking at me.
How long has he been there?
And most importantly...

"How the hell did you get into my house?" I spat, standing up. "I-uh- the door was unlocked".. He starts, a hand running through his hair.

"What do you want, Niccolo?" I say coldly, completely averting from the other helpful questions I could have asked like: how long have you been staring at me? Should I call the police ?

But instead, I went with "what do you want, niccolo".

He gulped.

"I wanted to make sure you were okay". He quietly says, slightly shrinking.

I rub my eyes and toss my hair to one side.

"Well aside from the migraine I'm fine." I vaguely reply, crossing my arms.

"After all of that?"... He tries, trying to press more information out of me.

"I'm fine". I say, slightly shivering when he said "that".

"I'm sorry". He blurts, his eyes squinting.

"It's nothing... Why are you really here, Niccolo". I say calmly, knowing that he couldn't be here just for my well being.

"You're not okay." He says, his eyebrows furrowed.

"I'm fine."

"Is it because Marco drove you home? Are you two friends now?"

I gulped.

"Yeah. We are friends. I don't care if you would have been in that room with me. You hate me, so why are you even trying?" I spat, crossing my arms spitefully.

"Marco's not good for you.  I know that sound bad coming from me, but believe me. You two just aren't a good idea..." He starts.

"And who would be good for me? Certainly not you". I shot, walking past him.

"And where do you think you are going?" He says, grabbing my hand to stop me.

"Away from you". I coldly reply.

"No you're not". He shot, his grip tightening.

"Let me go."

"Not until you let me help you".

"Marco already did that. I can take care of myself."

"I can do it better". He replies cooly.

"Well I don't think I would need much help taking a damn shower". I argue, my hand still stuck.

"I don't want Marco laying a finger on you. I'll make you something to eat and I'll be here when you're out of the shower." He states sternly.

"First, you don't have a say what Marco does, and second, there seems to be no way to get you out of here so whatever. I'll be in the shower." I say, finally ripping my hand away.

"Aren't you going to need clean clothes?" He says, my back turned to him. I could feel his proud smirk.

I grunt and shoulder checked him as I went to my dresser and got my clothes.

I went to the bathroom and started the shower.

I finished showering, and changed into some pajama shorts  and an oversized shirt. I went downstairs, and surely, he was there. With a plate of pasta.

And he had made it himself.

"You're still here .." I trail, walking over.

"I'm a man of my word".

His eyes trailed to what I was wearing.
Almost like he was admiring the random outfit I was wearing.

I crossed my arms around my stomach insecurely.

|Niccolo|

She was beautiful.

And I made her pasta.

What was my life coming to?

I was at the loners house and I found myself taking care of her?

Only because Marco wasn't allowed to have her.

He can't.

He won't

She's mine.

In a way.

And whatever this morning plays out to be will prove that.

She sat down at the table, opposite from me.

I gave her a plate of pasta.

"Eat. It'll help". I pushed, seeing as she wasnt eating.

"I don't want your pity food". She answered, rubbing her eyes.

They had dark bags under them.

And her face was still tear stained.

Her and I would be better than her and Marco.

But she's stubborn.

Stubborn as hell.

And a part of me liked that.

"Eat." I demand.

She exhaled and took a bite.

"Good girl". I mutter, chuckling as she rolled her eyes at my comment.

She ate her food, knowing I wasn't going to let this go.

"You can go now". She says, as she stood up and took my empty plate.

"Not until you are okay".

"I'm fine. I'm fucktastic actually". She shot, washing the dishes.

"Fine. I'll be back in three hours". I say, standing up.

"That's not necessary".

"Oh, but it is".

"Is this just some sick game to you? You're fucking jealous of Marco! You're trying to win me in some way and I'm done being some pawn in your game. You don't care about me." She says, her eyes narrowing.

"I- "
"Niccolo, drop it."

"Okay". I say, defeated.

And I left.