"Benvenuto a casa mia merda." You spoke in a fluent Italian accent,sarcasm flying out of your mouth everywhere as you opened the navy blue door to your apartment. I guess you could say it was obvious for you to speak Italian. You had the typical, gorgeous tan skin. Italian basically scream out of you.
"È molto carino." I replied back, cautiously looking around. I just violated every rule my mother taught me about strangers.
1. Don't talk to strangers.
I talked to this boy who I still don't know the name of as he sat against an alley wall.
2. Don't use anything a stranger gives you, it could be dangerous.
I used his bandana jacket which I still have, and his umbrella.
3. Don't enter the house of a stranger.
Here I am, standing in the house of a strange boy as we converse in Italian.
Sorry mama.
"You know Italiano?" You spoke with amusement as you arched your eyebrow, opening up a cabinet in the small kitchen. You took out a bottle of vodka and a glass. "Want some?"
I rolled my eyes at you and ran a hand through my dark brown hair,"I'm alright, thanks. Oh and my dad's from Italy so he taught me a while back." I watched as you drank from the glass of vodka, cringing inside of how much you consume.
"Come, sit." You pointed at the bar table stool next to the one you were seated on. Hesitantly I shuffled over to you, nervous on what your intentions where. "Why so nervous, cutie?" You laughed, filling the glass half way.
"God, you drink a lot. How old are you? Don't you have to be twenty one to drink?"
Chuckling you spoke, "Seventeen, and you?"
"I-I'm four-fourteen." I fiddled with my fingers, nervousness crawling up my spine. You were an older boy. I was here, in a house, alone, with a soon to be drunk seventeen year old boy.
"Fourteen? Nice age." You spoke emotionless, staring into the flooded sink filled with red lipstick kissed beer bottles. "What's your name, cutie?"
"D-dahlia." I choked out, anxious of why I was here, or more importantly, what you wanted from me. "W-why am I here..."
"Conner, the name's Conner." You snapped back, looking at me as your dark brown eyes stained my skin.
"Conner." I sighed out, tensing up as I spoke your name." A-are you going to h-hurt me?" My eyes turned glossy in fright. I've never been alone with a boy; a strange boy.
You rolled your eyes and your tongue in annoyance with a following sarcastic chuckle. "So this is where it's going, huh?"
"W-what are you t-"
"Think about it, kid. If I was going to hurt you, wouldn't I have done it already? Most killers like to get down to business, usually dodging the chit chat. But no, that's not my kind of thing. I like to see what my prey is like before I get to the killing." You got really close to my face, the scent of the cheap vodka traveled up my nose, giving me the urge to gag. I tensed up even more, horrified of what you were about to do. You then smiled,"I'm just kidding, I won't hurt you."
"You...you...you prick!" I screeched, standing up as I turned red of embarrassment. "That was so mean! A-and so scary! And so mean!"
"I think you covered that part already, cutie."
"Oh don't be cute!" I glared, wiping my sweat filled hands on my skinny jeans.
"Oh please, I'm always cute. No! More like a sexy beast who's great in bed." You laughed softly.
I really liked your laugh, Conner. I really did.
With a giggle I sat back down on the stool, looking into your haunting eyes. Such beautiful eyes you had."You know, you aren't so bad, Connor."
You smiled softly, raising the glass to your lips once more. "Yeah, neither are you, Dahila.
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YOU ARE READING
Why are you so lovely?
Kurzgeschichten*NOT EDITED* This is for the boy who made me feel like me. This is for the boy who makes me laugh and smile. This is for the boy who made me feel like I belong. This is for you, the loveliest boy.
