Unique

Three

Disclaimer: All Italian language in this book are from Google Translate. If it's wrong, blame them. Private message me the correction and I'll fix it up :)

(Picture : Sienna Kettle H)

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I Hear Jerusalem bells are ringing

Roman Cavalry choirs are singing

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"You need me to walk you to the door?" Max asked.

"Aren't coming back in?"

"No, I've got ... Things to do" he responded vaguely, before flashing a smile to cover up his words. I gave him a tight smile and nodded, before carefully getting down from the van and limping towards the pathway to my house. I refused to call it home. A house is just a structure. A home is where you feel safe, happy, and most impotantly- loved.

I watched the scene unfold in front of me with a heavy heart. The party was still raging. I felt reluctant to reenter the hellhole, but the cool air nipping at my neck indicated otherwise. I looked down at my feet. They were glued to the spot. I slowly lifted one foot and dramatically to a step forward,trying not to hurt my sore ankle. I then lifted my other foot, and really slowly placed it in front of me, taking another step. I then lifted my tight foot again, with all my will power and took another step. Then I -

"Oh my god, this is painful to watch" I heard a groan behind me and whipped around to see Max leaning against the van, his hands crossed on his chest. I frowned.

"What are you still doing here?" I questioned, slightly embarrassed. The booming music was still audible from out here, which clearly was an indicator that the music was way too loud.

"I was being a gentleman and waiting for you to enter the house before leaving, but after that display I just witnessed, it would've taken another decade" he replied, running a hand through his brown hair. I shrugged.

"I don't really want to go in there" I mumbled, shrugging my shoulders and pushing my hair behind my ears.

"Oh really?" Max said, clearly being sarcastic. I rolled my eyes, trying my best to fight a smile from breaking through. The breeze was starting to pick up I hugged my sweatshirt closer to my torso. For a second, he looked at me through narrowed eyes, like he was having an internal dilemma, before he sighed. "Get in the car, Kettle" he huffed. I quirked an eyebrow and looked down at my wrist-watch. I was also somewhat taken aback by his nickname, but at the same time, I felt giddy at the sound of my dad's last name. And my real one.

11:36 pm. The party would be raging until 3 am, minimum.

"I thought you had stuff to do" I mumbled, playing with the sleeve of my sweatshirt. "Plus, how do I know you won't rape me in that creepy-ass van of yours" He responded with a chuckle, filled with amusement.

"Firstly, I'll cancel the stuff, you remind me too much of someone, and she would've hated it if I just left you here" he said, and a reminiscent smile flashed on his features, before he was back to his goofy self. He bent down and reached into his boots suddenly, "Secondly, don't run, but," and he produced a very sharp knife. He pulled it right out of his boot. With horrified eyes, I put my hands up and took a steady step back. "No, no, this knife is for you. Take it, if you're scared I'll rape you. Use it against me if I try anything" he smirked, holding the knife out to me. I slowly reached out and grabbed the cool metal of the knife.

"Do you want to get into the van?" He asked. I nodded cautiously, the knife still in my grip. I looked down at it and shifted it in my hands, watching as the moon glinted on it's shiny blade. He just gave me a knife. For all I know, there could be weaponry workshop in his van. I shivered.