"Look, Mr. Hotchner, Agent Hotchner, Hotch, my brother is dead, we've dealt with it already, I have a life, people I need to take care of, the last thing I need to do is throw my family into any unknown water anytime soon bringing this back up," I s...
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~ where there is anger, there is always pain underneath ~
The Guanciale sizzled in the olive oil, making a slight pop sound every other second, only need about 20 more seconds to be completely cooked.
I mixed the slightly cool pasta with the egg mixture, which consisted of black pepper, pecorino cheese, and 3 eggs.
Turning off the heat for the meat, I pour it onto a paper towel, before gently funneling it into the pasta noodles.
"Cena!" I yell out, choosing the Italian phrase to inform my siblings, Emma, and David it was time to eat.
David was first to the kitchen, slightly eyeing the pan on the stove as he passes it, "Ah, Spaghetti alla Carbonara, si?" he asks walking up to me and grabbing a plate from my hand.
"Si," I state, sending him a warm smile.
Living with Rossi was really awkward at first, but a month has passed and its just kind of natural being here.
Of course I still plan on moving out, it's just hard with the work hours I have to set any date to actually look.
The whole Aaron Hotchner being my biological father surprisingly hasn't been brought up, neither by me or Aaron, nor the rest of the team.
I'm aware it's a conversation we should have but I'm way better at Band-Aiding the issue, and pretending it doesn't exist, and it seems Hotchner is too.
"Smells good in here," Emma announces, taking a plate from my hands and walking to her father, who served her the pasta.
Two sets of footsteps tumble into the kitchen, "Damn-ations" Tessa corrects herself remembering there is a child present, "I'm so hungry," she claims, practically yanking her plate from my hands before running over to Rossi eagerly causing me to shake my head.
I squat down on my knees so Taylor could grab his plate from me, which he does sending me a boyish smile, "Grassy," he proclaims earning a chuckle from everyone in the room except Tessa, who was stuffing her face with pasta.
"It's not grassy babes," I chuckle out, "Grazie. Kind of like frat with a G, so say Grat," I tell him, motioning for him to say the word.
"Grat," he shouts, making me shake my head, "Right, then say the letter Z," I explain.
He nods, "Z,"
"Right, just like that, now put it together,"
"GRATZEE!," he screams, making everyone laugh, excluding Tessa again, who was still scarfing down the pasta like it was her last meal.
"Good job," I mumble, ruffling his hair, "Go get some pasta from David, ya?"
He nods and David places a small portion of the spaghetti on Taylor's plate, earning a cheery, "Grazie,"
