chapter sixteen ➳ the realisation

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15th Of April 1990

15th Of April 1990

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11:38am

It been a couple of days since washington, and since Ryan Whites death. a close friend of mikes. He was taking it hard but was handling it relatively well.

We layed together in his bed, i watched his chest rise up and down. Snoring ever so lightly. My hand went up and down over his bare back, soothingly waking him up. "morning baby" i smiled into his ear, placing kisses along his jaw. He groaned slightly and turned to face me where he then smiled softly. "morning" his voice was deep and rugged.

"how are you feeling" i asked pushing the curls out of his face. All he did was nod.

"okay, i guess. i have things to do today though" he sighed. "i should probably get home, they are probably starting to get suspicious" i chucked. He just nodded once again.

I was about confused about how he was acting however i just pinned it down to the death of Ryan.

I gathered my things and jumped in the shower. I sighed as i stepped into the warm water and began to do my normal routine. I suddenly felt two hands on my hips and kisses on my neck and shoulder. I chuckled and kissed him sofly.

Before things could escalate, a knock at michaels door interrupted us.

"i'll be back" he smiled kissing my cheek.
"Steph- what- whatcha doing here" Michaels voice became nervous. It was my Dad. Fuck.

"what the hell is this!" my father yelled. I saw their reflection in the mirror. He shoved photos in Michaels face.

They were pictures of us kissing in washington. Oh my fucking god.

"stephen- it's i-" michael stumbled. "where is she" My fathers voice became deeper. He noticed michael was in a bath robe and everything went silent. He heard the shower running. The one that i was currently standing naked in.

"Adelaide Donna Morretti!" he screamed. Shit. I pulled the towel off the shower door and covered myself up. "papa" i nervously laughed.

"want to explain this!" he yelled. "pensi di poterlo fare !?" [think you can do this!?]

you knew my father was mad when he yelled at you in Italian. "papà, per favore, lasciaci spiegare!" i yelled back at him [papa, please just let us explain!]

"no" he growled. He turned back to michael. "that's my fucking daughter!?" he yelled. "stephen! please" michael
pleaded. "your coming home now, and explaining this to you mother and brothers" he huffed and pulled on my arm.

"papa! let me get my things and get dressed!" i tried to escape his grasp. "no, you can do the walk of shame like the little slut you are" I felt tears prick my eyes at my fathers harsh words. "hey!" michael yelled. "don't speak to her like that" he stood up. "the hell did you just say to me" my father said quietly

"i'll come too then, becuase this isn't a 'fling' it's serious" michael got fustrated.

"fine"

Then the three of us were driving back to my house. I was sitting in my towel, hair still wet. Michael was in a robe, with his hair still wet aswell. We were, completely and utterly screwed.

to be continued..

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