Loving Marcello

Chapter Thirty Three

Just as we've sealed our declarations of love with a kiss, a knock sounds at the door, followed by the annoying voice I've come to know as Callow's.

"Cell! Where'd you ru-" She stops short, seeing the position we're in.

I clear my throat, refusing to break the moment just because some desperate idiot wants to ruin everything.

"Do you want something?" I ask, raising an eyebrow condescendingly.

"Yes, I want to speak to my Celly." She pouts, giving a pointed look to Marcello.

"Celly?" I question under my breath incredulously, causing Marcello to snort.

"Leave." Marcello says, recovering from his amusement rather quickly.

"But-"

"Now." Marcello cuts Callow off, leaving no room for discussion.

Callow decides not to put up a fight, and exits the room with one last glare in my direction.

I suppress a snort, and watch silently as she slowly closes the door, leaving both Marcello and I alone again.

I can't help but to feel awkward, so I clear my throat, "So...what's up?"

Marcello raises an eyebrow at me, and I come to realize that he seems to do that often. Like, every two seconds.

"That's one heck of a conversation starter." He says sarcastically.

"Oh, would you look at that. You actually have a sense of humor. I never would've guessed." I shake my head teasingly, pushing his large frame away from me, releasing myself from the trap between him and the wall.

"Don't get used to it." He warns, rolling his eyes.

I'm about to reply back, but my mind thrusts a certain thought front and center. I want to ask about my father so badly, but I don't want to ruin the happy mood.

I suppress the urge to ask, trying to quiet my curiosity, and instead, walk over to Marcello's desk. It's a neat, organized mess. Certain envelopes lay around, overlapping eachother, but at least they're all labeled.

I fiddle with a pen laying freely on his desk and turn to face him, not realizing that he was following me the short distance, and is a lot closer to me than I realized. My neck cranes up so I can actually see his face, and I feel slight annoyance at our height difference.

I'd suffer from a sore neck anytime. As long as I get to look at him.

I snort at my thoughts, wondering where all my lovey dovey commentary is coming from.

I think this all happened too fast. Coming to Italy, only knowing him for three and a half weeks, kissing him every now and again, staying at his house, falling in love with him.

I can't help but to feel that it's temporary.

Because it is.

This is a vacation. This isn't my home. Though it feels more like home than America ever did. The only person missing is my uncle.

"You okay?" Marcello's voice cuts through my thoughts.

"Huh?" I ask, still a bit hazy from my worries.

"You spaced out. Are you feeling okay? Do you need to rest?" He asks, actually looking a bit concerned as his hand comes up to tilt my face up, his hand remaining on my chin.

"No, I'm fine." I wave him off, swatting at his hand.

"Are you sure?" He eyes me worriedly.

"I'm fine." I roll my eyes at him, walking in the direction of his office door.

"Where're you going?" Marcello asks, causing me to turn around and face him.

"I'm still hungry. Wanna go check out what's up in the kitchen?" I ask, giving him a toothy grin.

"I actually have work to do. I've been holding back on some of it lately." He states, giving me a playful wink.

He's acting a lot different now. I don't know of its a bad thing or a good thing, but I'm definitely enjoying it.

"Do you want me to at least bring you something?" I ask with a furrowed brow, not liking the fact that I'm concerned over his hunger.

"No, just find something for yourself for now." He orders, but seeing my unsatisfied face, he adds, "I'll find something later."

I roll my eyes, deciding that I'll just bring him something and come eat with him in here. I don't care what he says, he's already told me he loves me, he can't take it back now.

I from at my train of thought, probably looking like an idiot, but I could care less.

After heading to the kitchen, I see that the mess from earlier is cleaned up, and decide that I'll just make some sandwiches this time round.

After gathering the necessary ingredients and making our food, I leave my mess, convincing myself that I'll clean it later.

"- you used to, why don't you now?" A familiar voice floats from Marcello's office.

"Callow, I don't love you." Marcello responds, stressing the last two words to get his point across. "Get off me."

"Why?" Is all Callow says after, and I stop myself from snorting at her stupidity.

"If you don't get off of me, I won't hesitate to blow a hole through your brain." Marcello bites coldly, and I walk into his office in time to see Callow scrambling off of his lap with fear written on her face.

Apparently she took the threat seriously this time.

Marcello's eyes meet my own, and I can tell that he already knows that I understand what the whole situation is.

I roll my eyes, stepping forward to put Marcello and I's sandwiches on his desk, then turn and face Callow.

"Excuse me, could you please leave?" (Yes, that's a TØP reference)