Finding Sebastian

Chapter 11

When Silvano returned home, everything was silent. Not a creak in the room at all. He usually would have been used to it, but then he remembered two certain people sharing the same bed. He grumbled underneath of his breath.

He ventured to his kitchen where he opened up the refrigerator. The glowing light illuminated his face and parts of the room. He fished out the gallon of milk and set it down on the island. He went to the cupboard to get himself a glass. When he turned to put the glass down, the milk was gone.

He scratched the side of his head. He could have sworn he just set the milk down. In case he hadn't, he went back to the fridge and saw that it was missing. As he turned back, the milk was there once again. He was sure he was losing it now.

In any case, he went over to island, but the glass was now missing. He grumbled again. All he wanted was a glass of milk before he went to bed. His mind must have been playing tricks on him. He went back to the cupboard and pulled out another glass. When he turned around, the gallon was missing again! He groaned in frustration. It couldn't have been his mind.

Out of the darkness, he heard a giggle. He knew that sound, for he committed it to memory so many years ago. Marcia. He decided to play along. He turned his back for one second and turned back quickly to see Marcia with the gallon of milk and glass on both of her hands. He could also make out a light outline of milk above her top lip.

Her eyes grew wide. She had been found out. A small pout reached her face as she asked, "Got milk?"

He couldn't help but laugh. This woman, Marcia, to be exact, played him at their old game. He would always tease her for drinking way too much milk. He would find different areas to hide it. She would usually find it and flick or hit him, but he wouldn't mind. He was in love with her. One time she didn't find it and he forgot to tell her where he had hidden it. Turns out, milk spoils and leaves a bad odor in the air. That's how she found it underneath the sofa they were casually sitting and talking on.

He smirked at her. "I was about to have some, but someone took it from me."

She giggled once more. "Sorry, not sorry. Milk is my weakness; you know that fully well, Dentro."

His smirk grew wider. Yeah, I do know that. Then a sickening feeling went through him. What if Oliver knew that, too? Did he hide milk from her? Did they laugh about milk and think of all the animal species that needed milk?

She cocked her head to the side and hopped up on the island. "What are you thinking about, Dentro?"

"You," he told her honestly. He would tell her absolutely anything when it came down to it. He would be the most honest man, more honest than Abraham Lincoln. He would love her more than Cupid, and he take care of her more than a wolf to her pup. She was meant to be cherished. He knew that from the day he met her. Then he crushed her heart and she moved on.

Her cheeks flamed red. She always blushed when he said things like that to her. His accent made it all the more real for her. When he told her that in high school, her face flamed red and she couldn't stop for the rest of the day. Some people asked if she was sun burned, but she would say she was flustered from the day. It wasn't a lie. Not necessarily.

He walked over to her, his milk long forgotten. He put both hands on the opposite sides of where she sat and stared into her eyes. Although it was dark, he could still see the depths of her beauty in them. He could stare into them for hours if she let him. "I still love you."

She inhaled. He wasn't supposed to say that. He wasn't supposed to say those words after abandoning her and never calling or writing. Not when she was happily married to Oliver. Her heart constricted in pain. Her eyes didn't hold the same brightness. "You hurt me," she whislered.