As we all know, I might be falling in love with a blonde Italian man and let me tell you something, it's hard controlling yourself and what you do after discovering your newly acquired love for a supposed 'friend.'
Earlier today.
"For some reason I can't stop feeling like a second burden to you because of all this. Tell me, how can I make it up to you?" From a distance I see him entering the chaotically busy room. Powder, soap, sponges and wet floors, the whole kitchen was soaked in cleaning products. And as always, in the middle of the haywire storm was the clean freak himself.
"Second burden? What's that supposed to mean." Both cleaning and keeping eye contact simultaneously, Sakusa said as his doozy black hooded eyes penetrated into the Italian's.
"Ah well you know— since you just moved into town and all you're probably already carrying the burden of paying rent or finding a job. All while someone you've only met a few days ago moves in, adding way more money onto 'yer bills. I don't know it just doesn't seem right." One thing I really love about his accent is that it's so fresh and easily stands out. Secondly, it makes me giggle behind my mask. It's extremely infrequent for me to smile genuinely, let alone laugh.
"This again?" I groan woefully. "I thought I talked to you about this, you are never gonna be a burden to me, Miya. Oh and another thing— don't go around feeling bad about summing up my bills, I've got it under control." I passed on an eye smile through my mask.
"At least let me help you out." From the corner of my peripherals I can see the man inching closer, eyeing my vicious hand movement. I finally give in and pass him a pair of yellow rubber gloves along with the cleaning cloth. He smiles goofily and positions his self in front of me, hustling down the remaining Lysol splurges.
From behind I could see his curly bangs— almost as curly as mine, bounce up and down when he tried ragging down the spots he couldn't reach. "You're hand movement is all wrong, here." I unconsciously motion my gloved hand over his gloved hand and begin creating circles with the rag,— instinctively curling my fingers into his.
I could smell his hair from where I was, we were awfully close and I cursed myself out for not wanting to budge. We just quietly stood there as our hands awkwardly moved in sync with each other. I slowly curl my fingers out from the hold and remove my gloves. "Ahem, that's how you should've done it. Excuse me.." I wanted to get away as fast as possible so I did and went directly into the bathroom to panic in secret.
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