Twelve

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Eleanor and I laugh at the same time while she hands me a plate, while I dry it off with the cloth, putting it on the rack

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Eleanor and I laugh at the same time while she hands me a plate, while I dry it off with the cloth, putting it on the rack.

"You're honestly so cool. You're almost like a mother to me." My eyes widened as I bit my lip, drying off another plate that she had passed to me.

The whole day was just spent of me and Eleanor joking around while Dante went off to deal with some shipment issues of some sort. Eleanor is an amazing person and she's so precious.

"I'm sorry, cara." She says, the atmosphere changing into a more gloomy one.

I shook my head, blinking back a couple of tears. "It's nothing. I should be more mature about it anyways."

"Did they die when you were young?" I shook my head, taking another plate from her.

"No, I never knew them. But I feel like they're out there somewhere. My heart tells me so. But people probably think it's stupid and -"

Eleanor grabbed my palms in hers, a motherly look on her face. "Never doubt your heart. If it tells you something, you listen. This --" She jabs her index finger to the beating rhythm in my chest. "-- it beats for you and it has a right to tell you everything you should know. Always listen to it." I nodded, smiling.

I pulled her into a hug, in which she quickly returned, patting my back. "Thank you."

I pulled back, only to hear a person clear their throat at the doorway. I smiled at Dante, admiring his little 'late night look'.

He had his blazer over his shoulder, his shirt slightly unbuttoned revealing the little swirls of ink that was on his chest. His eyes were heavy and his black hair that was always gelled back was now messed up, but it only heightened the lazy smile on his face.

"Evening." His voice was groggy and tired as if he had just been completely worked out.

"I'll leave you two alone," Eleanor said, walking towards the door and standing on her tippy toes to give Dante a kiss on the cheek. "Buona notte."

We waited till her steps were completely gone and I let out a heavy sigh, staring back at Dante who was still by the door, his arms lazily crossed and a very small, small smile on his face.

"Welcome home," I say, trying to break the heavied tension between us.

"I could get used to you saying that often." I rolled my eyes, turning around and placing a plate on the rack.

"Could you come help here?" I heard footsteps approach me and soon enough Dante rolled his shirt, revealing the patterns of ink on his arms. He began to wash the plates beside me and soon enough we were only done with half of it.

I can't believe Dante is so...him but then his mother is so amazing, so full of life so happy.

"Do you visit here often?" I ask him, turning to Dante for a second and he shrugs, shaking his head.

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