Cold Hearted

•20 Questions•

    {•edited•}
                           ~Ida's POV~

       I'm surprised when I walk inside his apartment. I don't know what I was expecting, but it wasn't this. It's well furnished and decorated, very clean, organized, a good size, and smells like an orange raspberry candle. There's no doubt in my mind that someone else did the place up for him.
    "Who decorated for you?" I ask, trying to break the silence that has been lingering ever since I agreed to come here. Once he came back from talking to Luke I shut down again. Maybe it was because I was upset that he didn't listen and went over to him, or because I disarmed focusing on how nervous he was making me.
    "My mom and aunt grandma Don," He tells me. I cock a brow in question. "I don't know how to explain it, but if I only call her grandma she'll beat my ass with a bread roller."
    "Bread roller?"
    "Other families don't use those things as weapons?" I shake my head with wide eyes. He leads me to the bedroom where I can see the candle I was smelling in his dresser. My eyes land on a large, tall bookshelf he has in the corner. He doesn't seem to notice as I walk over to it, looking at all the books.
     "You read?" I ask, turning back towards him to see he's already staring, hands tucked in pockets as he leans against his dresser.
    "Yeah, I got locked up for a week last year and did nothing but read the whole time to pass time. Wasn't bad though and I stuck to it," he answers. The image of him laying down reading crosses my mind, almost making me laugh. It's nothing I ever imaged him doing because of his hard exterior.
    "What did you do?" I ask. I immediately regret asking that question. He probably doesn't want to tell me the things he's done, nor do I want to know them. "I'm sorry, you don't have to tell me."
    "It's fine. I was with a few other guys and they were doing some shit. Only me and one other guy got caught and the rest got away. I hadn't touched anything they were messing with. They locked me up until they believed I was innocent," he explains. Assholes. The moment I think that I want to slap myself; I wouldn't be surprised if my dad was one of those people.
     "You can wear this to sleep in," he says, handing me a t-shirt and sweats. I nod and he gestures to the bathroom. Once I'm inside my mind starts to race. I'm at his house. The boy I've liked for since freshmen year. Alone. The thought is almost funny to me because I would never do this thing. If I didn't like him as much as I do, I would have just called Eliza despite whatever she's doing with Junior.
     I try putting on the sweats, but they're too big no matter how hard I try. I decide to just leave them off and throw in the shirt that is thankfully long enough to cover everything necessary. Coming out, my eyes widen when I see Santi in nothing but his boxer briefs. It's not like I haven't seen him shirtless before, but this time it's almost different. Shyly, I make my way over, trying to ignore the fact that he literally had one item keeping him unexposed.
    I hand him back the sweats. His eyes snake down my body, his cheeks slowly becoming blushed. You're the one blushing? "They didn't fit at all," I say. He nods and puts them on himself.
    "You look cute," he says. I sit down on the edge of his bed, rubbing my hands on my legs. Looking down at myself, I wonder what he finds cute about this. I'm waiting for him to add some inappropriate comment about me wearing his clothes, but it doesn't come. "Are you tired?" He asks, getting in the left side of the bed.
   "Not really," I answer. He pats the right side for me to lay on. I can hear my heartbeat in my ears as I move to his opposite side, taking in a shaky breath.
    "I'm sorry if you feel uncomfortable with this," he says. I shake my head. Even though I don't feel comfortable, I like it. He's trying his best to not bother me and I appreciate that. Usually, he would bombard me with comments about my appearance; not in a bad way, but I struggle with any type of affection. Compliments are rare to me, especially in my family.
    "Can I ask you something?" I ask. He nods without hesitation. "Why did you get in that fight tonight?" I ask. If I know anything about him, one thing is that he doesn't start anything for no reason. The bruises on his face and now visible chest make me wonder even more what the cause of it was.
    "The first or second one?" What? "There's a new guy, Dante, who isn't really new but newer and he's very messy. Castel is giving him shit to do, but it's things that can be easily screwed up. All I told him as that he needs to be better with his works and he flipped."
    "And the second one?" His eyes soften, shaking his head.
    "I'd rather keep that one to myself," he answers. Maybe if I was someone else I would push it, but I'm not. "It's my turn to ask you something now. Why did you come to the party? You hate them." Because I wanted to see you.
    "I just wanted to get out of the house. No one was home, so I was bored," I lie. "Why are you even in the gang?"
   "What? You don't think I chose this?" I shake my head. "I got jumped in, I can't get out. I've considered fleeing the country, moving to Mexico, and renaming myself, Julio." I can't help but giggle at the thought of him being a Julio; it doesn't fit him at all. "Why do you act so shy around me?"
    Now, this little game of twenty questions is getting too serious. "I don't know," I answer.
    "Is it because of who I am and who your father is?"
    "It's my turn to ask a question. What's your favorite book?" I ask.
    "The Outsiders." Of course. "Who was your first kiss?" My eyes widen, making him laugh. That was a question I wasn't expecting. "Come on, you can tell me. Was it little Timmy in the back of the bus?"
   "No," I say. "It was Eliza," I admit. Now it's his turn to be shocked.
    "Your first kiss was a girl?" I nod. "Did you like it?"
   "You're asking too much. Who was your first kiss?" I say teasingly. His eyes roam around, an expression on his face that looks perplexed.
   "I honestly don't know," he says. "Every girl I've ever kissed or been with I don't remember." That's great.  "What was the last thing you fantasized about?" So we're playing it like this now. If Eliza or Junior we're here I would be less nervous.
   "I don't have any fantasies," I tell him. He rolls his light hazel eyes. "What's your favorite feature on a girl?" That's such a juvenile question I want to slap myself. I'm not good at these things.
    "I'm caught between eyes and lips," he says, eyeing mine. A shiver runs down my spine at how intense his gaze is. "You've always had the most beautiful eyes," he says, coming closer to me. "I think it's unfair for you to ask me that since I think all of you is beautiful."
    "I wasn't talking about me."
    "What other girl have I admired for the last ten years?" He asks. "Of course my answer would be about you." I blush. my face heating up twenty degrees. "Do I annoy you as much as it seems I do?" The question hurts me. I don't want him thinking he just flat out annoys me, but sadly, that's how it seems because of how I act towards him.
    "No, you don't," I tell him. He looks surprised. "I'm definitely not a fan of the constant...praise, but I'm lucky." His brows pull together.
    "Why are you lucky?" Should I avoid the question?
    "Because you're you," I say with a nervous laugh. His brows pull together. "I'm nothing special and you have girls lined up at your feet to be with you and it's like you don't even notice."
    "I don't," he says.
   "Anyways, have you ever said someone else's name during sex?" His eyes widen and he laughs.
    "Someone's getting brave now," he says with a grin. "And yes, I have." Poor girl. "What's the most sensitive part of your body?"
    "I have a scar on my hip that feels weird when anyone touches it," I answer, pressing my hand against the area. I can tell he's trying his best not to look down. Is it bad that I want him to look at me?
    "Have you ever had a wet dream?" I avoid his eyes, nodding shyly. "What was it about?"
    "It's not your turn," I say. He groans, but smiles. Damn, he's handsome. "What was your last fantasy?" I ask, using his question from earlier.  His eyes once again take in my full appearance, his eyes becoming darker.
    "It was different until I seen you walk out in my shirt."

AN: I will continue this in the next chapter 😉 I really hope you guys enjoyed!
    Question: What do you think will happen? Do you like that Ida is getting a little less shy with him?
   Please check out my other stories, comment, vote, and share! Believe in yourself -Vaeh