SPECTER [Ghost FanFiction 18+]

I| Death

He let out a light chuckle as he looked beyond, he's not even halfway here "I had to learn something from 34 years of marriage."

My dad was about to walk away, but I stopped him "Babbo, it's okay to not be okay — I can handle it, I can take care of myself."

He just nodded as he half-smiled at me "It'll always be my instinct to put you before myself. Eat," then he disappeared into his office.

A member of the staff took my coat and I made my way to the kitchen — I don't want to eat in the dining room; my mummy always took extra time to make sure the table was perfectly decorated whenever we ate there. Memories I'm not equipped to relive yet.

In the kitchen the chef was platting my lunch: spaghetti alla carbonara. He's the owner of various Michelin star restaurants in Europe, but he loves being a private chef, especially my family's.

"Hi darling," he quickly wiped his tears away before pushing the bowl towards me. "How's your dad? How are you?"

I picked up the fork and twisted it right in the centre, thinking carefully about my reply "Never been worse." Salvatore worries, especially because we know each other beyond our professional relationship; my parents met him through me, when we were dating. He loved my mother like his own, and spending time in the kitchen with her made him so happy — my mother repaired the Salvatore's broken childhood.

Salvatore nodded, pursing his lips as his eyes filled with tears "Are you staying here tonight or are you going back to your flat? I want to make you a special sweet treat."

As soon as I was done slurping the spaghetti in my mouth, I stood beside him to rub his back "Darling, please, don't hold back — I know how much you loved her, and I don't have the strength to keep myself together, let alone you."

The brunette nodded with a quivering lip "I'm making desert, want to help?" He sniffled, letting the tears roll down his face, as he looked down at me with pity in his eyes.

I shook my head and showed him a light smile "I need to sleep, so I'll just finish my pasta in my room."

Salvatore nodded, and leaned down to wrap his arms tightly around me "She lives on through you."

Every inch of my face twitched as I tried my hardest not to sob. I've always been told I'm more like my mum, and it brought me such happiness and pride, but now it just reminds me that whenever she's talked about it will be in past tense...whilst I'm still here, going through life without her.

I broke the hug and gave Salvatore a peck on the cheek "Come to my room if you don't want to be alone, okay?"

He nodded.

After picking up my bowl, I made my way back to my bedroom. I have my own flat, which I share with my fiancé, but I still have a room here in case I ever wanted to stay here, which was my usual weekend routine.

I'm only eating because I don't want my dad to worry about me, but I don't crave anything. Everything feels stoic and meaningless. My mother was responsible for making me into the person I am today, so a life without her makes no sense.

We were supposed to decorate the embassy for Christmas together this week...she wanted me to have my engagement party here as soon as all the trees were up.

I fell asleep in bed, looking up at the ceiling, remembering the way my mum could make anywhere feel like home. Due to my dad's job we moved around a lot, but England was always our home, and even away from it my mummy managed to make a home out of every house we lived in.

When I woke up my eyes were heavy on me, and my limbs were sore; that spaghetti I had was the first thing I ate in two days, so I'm exhausted, famished, dehydrated and depressed — not an ideal combination.