{ 𝗟𝗲𝘁𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘀 }

32

"I've been here for a good four months, don't you think it's time?"

Elio shook his head, eyes fearful as he stared up at Oliver. "They can't know."

"But your parents do know that something is going on between us." Oliver sighed as he pulled Elio closer underneath the sheets. "They use to come up here all the time two years ago. Once I got back, they stopped knocking at your door."

"That doesn't mea—"

"Your father has called you my distraction." Oliver rolled his eyes. "And your mom introduces me as your companion." The older looked down at Elio. "They know."

Elio sighed as he placed his hand on Oliver's, playing with his fingers. "I don't know. I'm just scared. Maybe they think we are just... hooking up, not serious."

"I don't think they'd prefer that." Oliver pulled his hand away and sat up, pulling Elio with him as they made eye contact. "What are you so afraid of?"

The younger sighed as he looked down, trying to think of a legitimate reason as to why he was scared.

His whole family was Jewish, it was against his religion. But then again, his parents, time and time again welcomed the idea and even homosexuals in their home as if nothing; the way it should be.

They lived in Italy, it's illegal to be with the same sex. But then again, his parents often argued that the law was flawed and that everyone deserves fair treatment.

Well Oliver is American, in America it's illegal as well. But then again, his parents didn't care for American politics and they sure didn't care what ethnicity Oliver or to say, anyone's ethnicity at that.

Elio sighed yet again—it always seemed like sighing represented giving in— as he looked up at his boyfriend. "I guess you're right."

Oliver chuckled as he hugged the younger. "Of course I'm right. I'm always right."