"Matteo and I will be able to enjoy a quiet morning alone."
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I
forgot about the fact that there was only one bed.
Matteo apparently forgot as well because he was already sleeping on his back when I got back from the bathroom. I had changed into my pajamas, which consisted of the only long-sleeve set I had. It's a blush pink with tiny red hearts all over it. I got it from my mom on my last birthday and hadn't worn it until today.
I look over at the bed with a frown on my face. Did he have to sprawl out on the bed and take over all of the bed space? I sigh and walk over to him. I place one hand on his shoulder and another on my hip and start to shake him awake. He stirs in his sleep but doesn't wake up. I shake my head and also shake him harder, to which he groans in response.
"Matteo, get up," I say to him, and he opens his eyes in response. "I want the bed."
He is unfazed when he answers, "Then get on the bed."
"You get off," I tell him, and he shakes his head, putting a hand on his eyes because of the light in the room. I move away from him and say, "When I come back from turning off the light, you will be off of the bed." He doesn't answer, and when I get back from turning the light off, he is still there.
"Get out," I tell him, and he groans, still sleeping. "Teo, what are you—?" The words die out on my tongue because his hand grabs under the material of my shirt and grabs my waist, where he pulls me onto the bed, making me trip over his body. "There," he mumbles and rolls over to his side, away from me.
I'm left gaping at him because he just manhandled me. He used his strength to pull me onto the bed, where he expects me to stay. I shake my head and turn toward him, but he is already sleeping, his arm outstretched over the bed frame like he does often. I stare at him for a very long time, and he grumbles, "Go to sleep, bella."
I turn over to the other side and stare at the wall. Being in bed with Matteo seemed more intimate to me because earlier he had done something that I still haven't made sense of. He had basically stuck his tongue down my throat! I knew it wasn't true—the five milleseons my tongue had touched his still felt that way. He had put his tongue in my mouth! I was gagged in my spot.
He did that in front of all of our family members and then had the audacity to kiss my nose afterwards. What in the world was that? But then he glanced at our moms, who were staring at us, and I knew what it was. He was doing that to show how we are with each other because apparently I had blurted out that both of us were dating. Each other. That was very much a bad idea.
Then Matteo kept touching me, and thirteen-year-old me would've gone ballistics at the fact that his hand had grazed my neck. She would've been shouting internally whenever he implied something in between us. She would've been flying by the time his tongue touched mine.
