Milan In Love

21

Milan

"Why are you so rude to me?!" I scream at her, trying so hard to get the worlds out while sobbing.

"Oh now I can't tell you anything?! I told you before I went to work to clean the house, do your homework and have the dinner ready, You didn't do shit!"

"Mom, I cleaned and I am the only one doing things around the house when you're not here, Kiara never gets up from her room and when she does is to leave dirty dishes in the kitchen." I sob.

"Well thats not Kiara's responsability is it?"

In a burst of anger I scream. "Why is it mine?!"

"Because Kiara is not an inconvenience!" She says in a very particular way, like she's been having that stuck in a deep part of her.

She didn't look remorseful - or not entirely. There was a pitiful expression though, but I could tell she's been wanting to say that.

I knew she constantly fights with her husband because he doesn't want me in the house, but that means she loves me, right? Because she fights for me to stay with her, even if she calls me an inconvenience...

....

"I don't want to talk with her, I already told you." I tell my father, starting to get frustrated by his constant questioning.

"Then tell her that, she's keeps calling and Giselle's starting to get upset." He tells me with an exasperated sigh. "Just get her off my back." He finishes, leaving me alone in the kitchen.

I haven't spoken to my mother since I was fourteen and even before that we didn't have the best relationship. She, like many, did not like what I represented; the betrayal of her marriage.

However, I thank her for never hiding her disdain for me, not like my father does. With her at least I knew what I was facing, on the other hand my father harbors a silent resentment towards me that makes itself present at particular moments, which is difficult to handle.

I can hate my mother with an excuse, I hate my father with a lot of guilt. But only because he also hates me the same way.

I stay in the kitchen for a moment, listening to how they talk with my brother, how they laugh and suddenly I don't want to leave because I feel like I'm interrupting.

My phone rings. "Hello?" I answer.

"I'm outside." Answers a voice that I know too well.

My eyes widen. "Outside?!" I whisper. "Now?" I asked.

"Yeah, Is there a problem?"

"Yes! My family is in the living room watching a movie!" I whisper through clenched teeth.

If my father realized that a boy- no Luka had been sleeping in my room the last few nights he would surely kill him and send me to live with my mother.

"You know what? I'll call you later." And with that he hung up. Damn

Did he get mad?

I finally leave the kitchen and head towards my room. "Good night, Milan." I hear Giselle say from the living room.

"Good night." I say and finally go to my room.

When I got to my room I discovered the door half open and the light on. Like a white person in a horror movie, I enter without thinking twice.

"Your family should make sure the back door is locked." Someone behind me says.

Instantly my heart leaps inside my chest and my only reaction is to put a hand there to make sure my heart doesn't come out.

"What the hell is wrong with you?! You almost gave me a heart attack!" I whisper frustrated.

He just laughs, the idiot just laughs. "I'm sorry princess." He says walking up to me and wrapping me in a big hug.

I don't respond to his hug, I'm still irritated by the scare and seeing this, he began to kiss my neck, my cheeks, until he reached my lips and suddenly all the annoyance had left my body.

It was one of those kisses, in which his arms hugged my waist and shoulders, in which he held me close to him while he dominated the kiss.

My stomach fills with butterflies and I feel bubbles in my chest, I was definitely finished. I had already fallen.

I stop kissing for a moment to catch my breath, Luka continues holding me as if I were going to escape.

"You need to stop kissing me like that or I'll think we're something serious." I told him, laughing awkwardly.

"We're not that far from it." He replied, sitting on my bed and taking off his shoes.

"First of all, don't sit on my bed with outside clothes and second, Why do you want to sleep here?" I asked him.

He instantly got out of bed, took off his shirt and pants and was left only in his underwear, finally sitting down again with a mocking smirk. "happy?" He said.

"It doesn't exactly bother me." I told him. "Are you avoiding the question?"

"Does it bother you that I sleep with you?" He asks with a sight.

"No, it's just- we didn't exactly talk to eachother before the party, now we're doing sleepovers on school nights." I tell him sarcastically.

He looks at me and for a second I see how the subtlety of his gaze towards me hardens. "I don't know how to explain it Milan." He says with an exasperated tone.

"You can start by saying why here and not at one of your friends' houses..."

"My house has become a nest of unwanted memories and I'm not just saying that because of 'the robbery', it never felt like a home." He takes a pause. "And you remind me of what it feels like, no matter how strange it may be."

"Even before we had sex at the party,  I thought you were the most interesting person in school, you knew so much random shit and you said it at the most random times." He said laughing.

Now I remember why he annoyed me. "You used to say I was weird as fuck." I told him, frowning.

He smirks. "You were so socially awkaward too."

"and you were always an attention whore."

He chuckles. "You haven't changed at all."

His stupid, attractive smile bothers me. "You were a bully." I tell him with disdain.

He just smiles at me, finally closing his big mouth. He opens his arms telling me to come closer to him and when I don't move he tells me. "Come here, princess, you know I was joking." His arms extend, taking me by the hips and bringing me closer to him, then lifting my shirt and kissing my waist and abdomen. "You truly are one of a kind."

"Luka..." I said sitting on his lap, forgetting all about his jokes.

"Yeah?"

"I just want to make sure you're okay."

"I- I hope i'll be." He sighs. "Don't worry about me."