Cecilia's father, a well-known and successful lawyer, was tired of her problems. Tired of the issues she had been causing for the family and it's name.
After an incident, which she kept claiming wasn't even her fault, she's sent away to a boarding s...
A/n: GUESS WHOS BACKKK😚😚 vaycay was so fun but unfortunately it was a road trip back with three dogs and my family and that part was hell...other than that it was so so so amazing. Except now I'm super duper happy to be back with my cats so I can write😋
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What the heck, what the heck, what the heck.
Matteo King almost just kissed me. And I- me- was the one to pull away. Why I did? I don't know the answer. But now it's left me in an internal panic.
Now he's walking behind me, like he's too scared to even be within a couple feet of me.
Wait, why did I stop it?
That is such a stupid question.
"Whats a stupid question?"
I jump at the sound of Matteo's voice, turning around to see his confused face.
"Huh?" My brains falters.
"You just randomly blurted out, "that's a stupid question'?" He says slowly, his eyebrow raising to look at me like I'm stupid.
I feel stupid.
"Oh." I didn't know I said it out loud. "Nothing."
"Alright..." he moves his eyes away from me, mumbling something to himself that sounds a lot like an insult based on his tone and expression.
My face burns impossibly more red now, and I turn back around. Whatever he said, I don't want to know. Jerk.
He was the one about to kiss me and now he wants to be an ass again? Whatever.
He must sense something's wrong with me now, because he remains silent for the rest of the way back to our room.
When a cold breeze suddenly chills through the thickness of my coat, I huddle my arms to myself until I feel Matteo's presence next to me.
Unraveling his scarf from his neck, he gently places it around mine, giving me a soft scolding for forgetting extra layers, before resuming his stupid silent streak.
I don't say anything for a couple moments, intent on keeping our mental agreement to not say anything.
The manners my mother drilled into me eventually seeps through my intentions.
"Thank you," I mumble quietly, wrapping his black scarf tighter around me despite myself. The scene of his cologne lingers on it, and the smell invades my senses and clouds my brain.
He acknowledges me non-verbally, eyes staying on me for a couple seconds before he quickly adverts them. I have to turn away again before letting my eye roll free.
Is it that difficult to look at me for more than a couple seconds?
