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 "I ache for the music your heart made with mine." - Whitney Hanson Summer #3
"It makes you look like a chef."
Valentino takes one look at my bonnet and scrunchies his nose, "What you're cooking up?"
Despite my protests, Val washed my hair and detangled my curls after our bath. While I'm usually on the brink of passing out when I'm doing my hair routine, but Valentino walked through the process smoothly. All I could think about was his earlier comment.
Although I never told you, I love your curls. Even when they're messes, I want to run my fingers through each and every one. Because each strand is mine.
Mine.
I see the word flashes behind his eyes when I wear his hoodie or laugh into his shoulder.
I see it in the way he's looking at me right now, "Hmm..I'm cooking up your worst nightmare. It includes tomatoes and pink guns." Val's lip curl at the mental image and I laugh into the pillow clutched to my side.
Oh god.
I've missed this. Not just having him romantically, but him by my side with me. There is so much we must talk about. Well, I have a lot to talk about. Valentino just sits there and listen while I am going on a random ramble, "Speaking of cooking, where's the food? I didn't eat since breakfast?"
Now its past 11pm and there's this awkward feeling gnawing at me, I don't know if I'm extending my stay there. Even if I stay the night, where I'm going to sleep? Valentino's mansion has 13 bedrooms but sleeping in separate beds after my...punishment already fills my mouth with a sour taste.
Thankfully this time Val doesn't see my internal turmoil, "Come on, I know the perfect place." He hops out of bed effortlessly while I sit there for extra seconds before to gather the mental capacity to move. Once my feet hit the floor, realization fills me, "I don't have anything to wear."
There's not even shoes I got to put on.
Valentino doesn't miss a heartbeat, "Closet." When I walk towards the room's closet and turn on the lights a gasp escapes my lips. Rolls of clothes it perfectly on hangers with shoes covering the racks. All the bright colors and prints an ironic contrast to the white, black, and grey suits on the other side of closet.
I settle for a pair of boyfriend jeans and a pink shirt alone with regular sneakers. It's regular, but based off the smooth fabric of the shirt, I could tell it was expensive. I'm not complaining though, if Valentino want to play sugar daddy, I'll let him.
By the time I'm ready, Val is already sitting on the edge of bed tying up his black army-style boots. The dark green camouflage pants are tucked in, and the matching fitted alethic shirt leaves me hyperventilating. To top it off, his signature nose stud and diamonds glint under the moonlight.
