𝐆𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐨. Model, actress, celebrity. At the age of 22 Gianna already has everything or at least that's what everyone thinks.
But in reality, her life couldn't be more of a mess. Where there's money there's alcohol, where there's pa...
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"I always worry about you," he admits. My arms around his neck and his tight hold on my waist the only thing keeping me together.
Hearing him say those words feels like a shot straight through my heart, because I know he means them, he would never lie, not on something like this, not to me. He cares about me, and most importantly, I care about him too, I care about what he thinks of me. And that scares me shitless.
But I don't show it, I won't give him the satisfaction. Not today. Today, I stop hiding.
"And here I was," I say slowly moving my hand to his hair and bringing him down towards my face, "stupidly thinking you didn't care about me."
"Gianna..." he whispers my name, so softly I can barely hear it, but it is there, and I know why he says it, I understand this is wrong in so many levels but I don't care anymore.
"It's okay, no one has to know," I mutter, tightening my grip on his hair and with every ounce of courage I have left I bring him in for a kiss.
A kiss he stops before it can even happen by quickly pushing me away from him. Leaving me not only speechless but totally confused and deeply hurt. My hands falling to my sides as I stare at him, hoping he couldn't hear my heart break.
"We can't, I..." he looks down at me, the look on his face utterly soul-crushing.
It is that way how I know this is only about to get worse. That I just made the biggest of fucking mistakes.
That I should have kept hiding.
"I'm sorry if I made it look like I wanted this, but I don't." He says, reaching for his bracelet as I watch him trying my best not to break down right in front of him.
Made it look like he wanted me? This has to be a joke...
"But this can't happen. Our relationship can't be more than a friendship I thought you understood that, I hoped you underst-
Oh no, fuck this. Fuck him.
"Fuck you!" I scream not able to keep it together anymore as I push him away from me as hard as I can.
"Gianna, please, I'm sorry." I hear him follow after me but I don't stop. He can go to hell for all I care.
I make my way out of the water as fast as can, my legs tired of so much running, and when I finally reach the sand I quickly pick up the clothes I discarded on my way inside and keep walking. That's when I notice Miles's clothes and shoes lying just a few feet away from me and as it couldn't be any other way I pick them up too.
