Chiara Rose

dieci

"Look, I'm really sorry, but I have to take care of this. Tino, don't go all control freak over it. Gi, don't go all mumma bear over it. You two hear me?" Dad says very pointedly, as his phone continues furiously buzzing in his hand.

"I'm not a control freak," I mutter at the same time Gi says, "Yeah whatever." Instead of verbally responding, Dad just rolls his eyes at the both of us before quickly running out of the room. I'm in my downstairs office, so he only has to walk down the hall to get to his downstairs office. And it doesn't really matter if anyone down here overhears what he's talking about. It'd be a different story if someone, aka my siblings, overheard it upstairs.

"Shut the fuck up, you're such a control freak." Gi snorts. I grab the closest thing to me, which happens to be some squishy small soccer ball that Camila gave me and throw it right at Gi's head. It doesn't help, he just starts laughing at me even more.

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Chiara's POV

Remember how I said that bruise of mine was getting better? Yeah, I lied. I think it's actually getting worse. Like a lot worse. Like it's spread across my back worse. Like it's getting darker in colour worse.

I've never really had it get this bad before, so I don't know whether this means that my ribs are broken or not. It's quite clear they're at least bruised, I just don't know the extent of it. I could be about to die for all I know, but to be honest, I don't care.

That's probably not a healthy mindset, not caring if I'm on the brink of death, but it's fairly normal for me. The fact it's normal probably isn't good either. Oops.

"You okay?" Carlo asks from where he's hanging upside down off his bed. He's focused on the TV sitting in the corner of his room, the fucking massive TV sitting in the corner of his room. It takes me a second to realise he's talking to me, not the people he's playing some stupid shooting game with on said TV.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why's that?" I ask, furrowing my eyebrows at him. That's a lie. I'm sitting on his bed, reading a book, doing shit all, and my ribs are fucking killing me. They usually only hurt when I move, but no, they hurt so much I'd rather be on my period right now. And I get the worst periods.

"You just look like you're in pain. Are you reading a sad scene or something?" He asks, popping his head back up so he's looking at me. He looks like an idiot, his face is beet red from hanging upside down, and his hair is all over the shot. But he still has that weirdly happy grin on his face, it's honestly starting to scare me how he's always happy. Like always.

"Yeah, the main character's idol just died." It's a lie. What I'm reading is quite the opposite. It's a cute fluffy romantic scene that just makes me feel insanely lonely and single.

"That's not even that sad." Carlo scoffs, then decides our conversation is over and flops back over the edge of his bed. I honestly don't understand how he's doing that, spending that much time with all the blood in his head and trying to play a game upside down. Although he has been getting a bit angry, so he's probably losing.

We settle into a comfortable somewhat silence, Carlo talking to whoever's on the other end of his headphones. Whilst I settle into my book, laid out on his bed. And in the book I'm reading, the main character is a figure skater. Which just makes me miss skating even more.

"I'm allowed to use the ice rink, yeah?" I ask. I don't know why I think it's a good idea to go skating when I'm in this amount of pain, but surely it'll help a little. I'll just go easy and try not to fall.

"Yeah, of course, you can. Do you want to go for a skate?" Carlo asks again, popping his head back up. I hear some distinct murmuring coming from his headphones, causing him to roll his eyes.