Brooklyn:
After being forced to spend one summer in Italy with her grandma, Brooklyn always found her way back to the cobblestone streets but not for the feeling of a summer never ending, but for Valentino, a boy who radiates trouble and sees throu...
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POV: Brooklyn "Trust takes years to build, seconds to break, and forever to rebuild." - Unknown Summer #3
If the stress doesn't kill me, then the nerves running through my veins will.
This was supposed to be simple. I'm supposed to be simple, with nothing but unfeeling emotions and indifference. Obviously, my brain and heart don't get it because my mind is running with curiosity and my heart is beating ferociously at the thought of going on a date with Valentino.
Why the hell do I agree to this?
"Shit!" I yell out as I accidently pull a knot out of my hair from the force I'm brushing it with. I pick the bundle of hair out of my brush with disgust and continue detangling my curls. This is what happens when you avoid doing your hair for over three days. When I realize my mirror is still foggy from the recent hot shower I took, I swipe my hand over the glass to see a fragment of myself.
And smile.
I didn't realize how much I was holding in until my outburst with Valentino three days ago. Even with the heat swirling in my chest, I felt the boulder I've been carrying on my shoulder lighten. Not completely disappear because I still have other things, but it's a start.
After pushing a shaky breath out, I head to my closest to find my fancy, but not so fancy, black dress. I haven't heard zip from Valentino since our earlier conversation, so I'm left to my own devices on April clothing. The dress starts low at my mid-chest as the straps wrap around my shoulders, pushing my boobs out of my dress a little. I shimmy to the mirror and check myself out before fluffing up my curls and applying my dark lip liner to match. By the time I return to my closet to grab my heels, I hear a knock on my door.
"Oh my god, oh my god," I rush towards the door and glance at the clock before opening it to find it at 8:29.
"Why are you so freaking early? Give me a sec." I'm halfway to putting my gold earring in my ears when I hear the knock again. "It's 8:30 now."
I swing open the door to give Valentino the most bored expression ever: "Who are you, Cinderella? Trying to get this over with before you turn into an ugly monster and your Porsche turns into rats at midnight?" The retort slides off my tongue with ease, despite the goosebumps running up my arms. Val gives a slight shake of his head while his thumb swipes the little smile on his easel. Green eyes scan my body in obvious appreciation, causing a blush to paint my cheeks.
I gulp and open the door wider, inviting him into the home he was in three days ago. Icky memories of me screaming at him coat my skin, but not before giving light to other things, like the way his tongue ran up my neck like I was a desert. I blink the hot memory away and get my shoes before I do something stupid.
Like giving into the heat between my thighs.
Once the outfit is complete, I take semi-shy steps towards Valentino, who's sitting back on the couch. My heels clink in a slow rhythm towards the living room, and when our gazes meet, my heart skips one or two beats. I can see the storm brewing in her eyes. The curse fell from between his lips at my appearance. A part of me wants to smirk at his reaction, but another part of me, the one that lacks self-preservation, wants to bask in his attention.
Because no one looks at me the way he does.
Without a word, I walk towards the door, grabbing my purse on the way out. Valentino follows me on the way out, and after a shaky breath, I lock my door and seal the fate of the upcoming night.
Like I expected, Val's black Porsche waits outside in its glory, looking out of place in the apartment I live in. "Man, I was expecting a carriage." I blink my eyes up at my sweetly and add, "with life-sized rats pulling it, of course." Valentino opens my door and slides into his car with the ease of a trained assassin. Embarrassment coats my skin, and I have one of those odd moments when I wonder if I said something in my head instead of out loud when I don't get a response, but once the car roars, Valentino's voice bounces off the little space in the car and says, "I'm sure I can get my new recruits to do that."
My laugh fills the space as thoughts of 16-year-old boys wearing rat costumes dragging a carriage come to mind, but Valentino only eyes me with mild amusement.
"Wait, are you serious?" I'm no longer smiling but watching as Val takes smooth cuts and turns on the road like an experienced F1 driver.
"Yes."
Oh well, then, I turn and look out the window to hide my shock, but the fact that Val would do such a thing still burns in the back of my mind. We sit the rest of the way in comfortable silence. At red lights, I feel Valentino's gaze burn into my face, but I don't give into my desire to look at him. After a while, we reach the countryside of Italy, and we're on a... nature trail?
With it being so dark, it's hard to tell, and uneasiness starts to fill my stomach as Val's drives farther into the woods. "Are you doing this to murder me?" I finally turn towards Valentino to see his shoulders tense for just a moment. If I had blinked, I would have missed it, but it's not long before his calm demeanor and sarcasm take place again. "Yeah, just wait a second for me to grab the shovel."
He laughs at my horrified expression and helps me out of the car. The watch Val's wearing glints in the moonlight, blinding me for a second as he raises the white cloth in his right hand with an expectant eye. It takes two beats before what he wants dawns on me: "Hell no, I'm not going to become an inspiration for a horror movie." I can practically feel the skepticism pouring from my body, and I take a step back on instinct.
"Do you trust me?"
The words come out so fast and unexpectedly that I get whiplash. "What?'
"Do you trust me?" His question is tangible between us. Heavy and thick with unspoken words that spin around us. It's not just about trust but also forgiveness and the hope of moving past everything that destroyed us. Time ticks slowly as my mind carries me back to the night before I can answer.
Betrayal sits thick on my tongue and cuts deep in my heart with uncurable cuts. It drives me mad with anger, and without realizing it, I'm pulling clothes from the hangers and shelves of my closet to stuff in my suitcase. Tears start to form in my eyes when the suitcase doesn't close. I pressed more and more into it, only for it to pop open once more, now with a pile of clothes in it. Before I can stop it, the sob rakes through my entire body, bringing me down with broken vases and furniture around me.
With the memory playing in the forefront of my mind, the answer is easy.
