𝐋𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝚩𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐭 | 18+

44 || FAMILIAR VISITS

CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR | FAMILIAR VISITS
𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪𓆩❤︎𓆪

"¡Hijo mio!" Lorenzo's parents drew him into their arms, assaulting his face with their affection before their annoyance caught up to him. His mother swatted his arm, causing him to pull back with a hiss of pain as his stare locked with her glare. "¿Por qué no me visitas más seguido?" Why don't you visit me more often?

Lorenzo only scoffed and rolled his eyes, garnering him another painful swat. "Mamá," he complained, his eyes doing all the talking for him. Not today.

His mom only scoffed before turning her chin to her husband who was more busy admiring the flowers Lorenzo had brought in hopes to curb their anger.

"Andres."

Lorenzo's father turned his attention to his wife. "Yes, amor?" Love.

"Regaña a tu hijo," she ordered, crossing her arms before turning her back to the two and leaving them to show how upset she was with her eldest.

Instead of scolding him, Andres locked his eyes with his son. But instead of his typical nonchalant manner, he found a Lorenzo who was anxiously looking around as he fiddled with his cufflinks. "What'd you do?"

Lorenzo glared at his father. "I didn't do anything."

Andres only hummed and pushed past his son. Before Lorenzo could stop him, he'd opened the door and revealed what Lorenzo had done.

His father nearly fell over his feet as the girl stepped up, quickly moving towards Lorenzo's side and giving the older man a wave, a book in her other hand. "Is she your secretary or something?" Andres couldn't believe his eyes.

"Novia," Lorenzo corrected his father and just as Natalia was about to correct him, he squeezed her hip in warning, warning him a glare. Girlfriend.

"Dios mío." Andres had to step, his eyes darting over the girl as if to make sure she wasn't a figment of his imagination. "How long?" My God.

Lorenzo looked towards Natalia who only rolled her eyes in response before resting her hand against his chest. "Has it been three months yet?"

"Four soon," Lorenzo answered, resting his hand on top of hers, his dark eyes locked with her starry ones until she was so lost in those black pools that she barely caught his father's voice until he spoke once more.

"Is he paying you then?"

Breaking their stare down, Natalia moved her dazed eyes to his father. "No, no, I... I'm not getting paid. Although he should pay me," Natalia joked. "You're a lot of work."

Lorenzo only pecked her lips in response, catching her off guard. She lightly swatted his chest and moved away from him, covering her smile with her hand as she focused on his father. "I'm Natalia. You're Andres, aren't you? He told me all about you."

His eyes turned into slits. "That's a lie."

Shaking her head, Natalia chuckled. "Yeah, it is. I'm sorry. He's not very talkative, you know."

Andres did know that. As a toddler, Lorenzo pointed at things to get them. If he wanted food, he'd stand by the kitchen. If he wanted to go out in the garden, he'd stand by the door. And if he wanted to watch his father paint in his studio, he'd pull his father's sleeve and paint out the residues of paint that always followed him.