Chiara Daveys is living a good life in England - if you ignore her constant struggle with food, lack of a guardian and how she's constantly working to pay the bills.
At 17 years old, she's been unaware of her 6 brothers who have spent the 14 years o...
(AN - I wrote most of the last chapter today AFTER 3 WEEKS 😭😭 so sorry guys x Busy three weeks I guess)
I found another aesthetic which I forgot to put in. Made this one in May 2024 😛: Flo and Chiara:
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THIS CHAPTER IS SET A WEEK AFTER LAST
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I am violently, viciously and fatally ill right now.
I'm talking shivering, coughing, sneezing, fever, nausea and a killer headache.
I am two sneezes away from downing a whole pack of Advil.
And guess who's beside me, equally ill yet way more dramatic? Noah Moretti.
It seems that we've both caught a cold which has the power to wipe both of us out. Yet Noah is acting like a small Victorian boy diagnosed with bubonic plague. Contrastingly, I am suffering from this illness with a lot less drama and a lot more dignity.
"Harry," I call out, close to tears.
"Yes, Chiara?," he comes over, pushing the hair away from my sweaty forehead.
"I don't feel very well," I shake my head.
"I know, Angel," he rubs my back.
"Harry!" Noah calls out from beside me.
"Yes, Noah?" Harry sighs, looking over at him.
"I don't feel very well either," he says quietly.
"I know, Pollo," he replies. [Pollo - Chicken]
"Don't call me chicken," Noah cries out.
"I'm going to sneeze," I scrunch my eyes closed and feel Harry handing me a tissue.
"Jesus Christ," I can faintly hear Lorenzo over my sneeze.
"That was so loud," Noah cries out again and rolls over, hands covering his ears.
"Shut up, pleb," I cry and also turn away from him.
"Chiara," Lorenzo kneels down next to where my head is resting on the sofa.
