𝐒𝐨𝐧 𝐎𝐟 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐫 (𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐆)

6

The bride
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Antonio keeps talking to me.

And I'm not mad about it?

Just as we were engaging in yet another conversation, my phone rang. 

It was Mama, telling me the stylist was here to help me find my wedding dress. I jumped from the couch and told Antonio the news as he watched me with furrowed brows.

And before I knew it he was asking me the question,

"Can I come?" 

°•°•°

Antonio was two years older than me, making him twenty-two. He told me that last night while we were talking in my room. 

Throughout the night I did realize something. Antonio was nothing like his brother. Sure they may share the same blood and the same surname, but that is where all their connections end.

Antonio was compassionate, he cared for people and more importantly, he cared for me.

I felt comfortable around him. Though I still can't talk about Papa with him, the day I do will come, maybe sooner than I might think.

I can remember last night so clearly. We started by sitting on my bed, revealing facts about one another, and finishing with more vulnerable stories.

He even told me about Rossi.

"Mateo never felt like a brother, more like a rock statue. Someone I had to look up to. He was cold from the beginning, never wanting to play or even have a conversation with me up until our father passed away," he said looking into space as words poured out of his mouth.

The stories he told me about Rossi only made my hatred for him burn more.

The way he treated Antonio was unacceptable. He treats his younger brother as nothing more than property, and I wasn't having any of it.

That is why I was pissed when he showed up in the living room as I tried on wedding dresses.

I ignored him and refused to let him ruin this moment for me, even though he seemed oblivious to his surroundings.

My Mamá suddenly gasps at the sight of me in the last wedding dress.

It was gorgeous, with an open back and laced sleeves. The fabric hugged my curves and the rest of the fabric pooled around my feet.

It was beautiful, I couldn't get enough of it as I twirled around in it.

I turn to the couch with my friends, Mamá and Antonio sitting on it. Everyone's jaw was on the floor as they stared at me.

I catch Rossi staring at me from the corner of my eye, but he quickly shifts his attention back to his laptop and papers, not giving a damn about what's happening around him.

I still couldn't help but keep the picture in my head while everyone commented on my dress.

Rossi's gaze didn't have the usual, deadly effect on me. It almost felt soft, as I felt his eyes scan my body, taking in the sight before him.

He managed to do it all in under a second, before pulling his walls back up and ignoring everyone around him.

I didn't care how he looked at me, nor did it matter honestly. Maybe it wasn't even him that looked at me. Maybe I made it all up in my head.

Antonio stands up and walks up to me, scanning my face and my body before taking my hands in his, and looking at me in awe.

My mind couldn't get over the fact of how close I got to him in such a short amount of time.

It was dangerous, and I shouldn't allow myself to open up so much. But the feeling of safety I felt with him was extraordinary. Nobody ever seemed to care for me that much.

Nobody has ever seen me as vulnerable as I was with Antonio, and I couldn't help but appreciate it.

After getting out of my dress, all of us decided to play a game to see who knew me better.

And while most of the questions I asked were easy to answer, I came up with a question only one of them could answer.

"What is my favorite color?"

Some might think it was an easy question everyone should know, but they didn't.

And the reason why they didn't was because I had never told them.

Well, the exception was Antonio, who I told you yesterday.

I looked at him and he seemed clueless, making my eyebrows furrow in confusion.

As people started guessing, wrongly, I still looked at Antonio, expecting him to answer. But he had no idea.

Another answer finally echoes through the room.

"Blue."

The deep and rich voice confused everyone in the room, including Antonio who I thought answered.

My eyes finally travel to Rossi, who is now accompanied by a confused Dante staring at him.

And then, all of a sudden, it hit me.

Rossi answered the question.

Correctly.

AUTHORS NOTE
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No wayyyyy....

I can't believe it.

Can you believe it.

😱😱😱😱.

But honestly, though, how did he know thatttt?

Lmao anyways thank you for reading.

Toodles💋🥰