{•Florencio Series: #5•}
Corvina has always been the odd one out. Her whole life has been filled with staying in her room and hypersensitivity. She's not one of many words, she's a listener. She observes until she has you down to a T. But some a...
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"Present" for reading until the end...😉☺️ {•Unedited•} Two years later ~Idris's POV~
"Sorry I'm late." Vina leans up on my tiptoes and kisses my bottom lip. My keys make noise when I place them on the counter. She turns around and wraps her arms around my neck, bringing me down for a kiss. The past week she's been very touchy-feely and I'm not complaining at all. She's been here the past two weeks instead of her apartment with Nanny near the school campus and I'm not ready for her to leave tonight. I have no plans for letting her out that door or making her even want to. "It's fine," she says against my lips, not sounding like it bugged her. She usually likes to be alone when she's cooking whereas I need something going on around me. My physical ADHD might be in check, my but mentally I'm still a whacko. She tries connecting our lips again but I pull back, running my fingers through my hair. She spins back around and picks up the large bread roller on the counter. "W-what's that for?" I ask, feeling my anxiety starting to rise. I haven't done anything wrong. "I'm making bread too," she says. They use them for their actual purpose as well? I'm careful when walking pass her to the hallway. "I'm gonna take a shower before we eat," I tell her. She only nods, now using the roller like she's punishing the dough. What did that dough do to her?! More importantly, what the hell is wrong with that family and rollers?! "Don't be some mean to the bread." "Mind your own business." •••••
"For bread you tortured, this is really good," I tell her. She rolls her arms and take another bite of her piece. "Seriously though, what is it with your family and bread rollers?" I ask. I would like to know where it became possible for me to fear a wooden cooking utensil. "Alaric's dad," she says. It already makes more sense. "He loved baking after he got out of prison and a bread roller was his weapon of choice afterwards too. It just stayed in the family." How wonderful. She scoots her chair back and reaches for my empty plate. "I'll do it," I tell her, feeling that familiar anxious feeling start to tighten in my chest. She doesn't say anything as I get up with our plates and bring them to the sink. Two choices: Do the dishes and procrastinate...or stop being a little bitch as Bex would call me and propose already. Do the dishes. ••••••
Doing the dishes turned into doing the laundry even though there's hardly any of it and reorganizing all the glass cups in the cabinet. It took about an hour for Vina to pick up on my strange behavior and make me sit with her. Despite it being freezing she wanted to come outside with me to smoke. I would have just done it in the bathroom but she doesn't like the smell it leaves behind. I tried getting her to take a hit or two during her last period and you would have thought I was offering her heroine. I flick off the ash off the end of the joint, gesturing for Vina to come back in with me. It takes a few seconds but she soon follows. Something is clearly on her mind but I don't press it. She usually tells me things on her own time if they're important. Sitting on the couch, she fiddle with her fingers. Her chest rises and falls deeply, eyes fixed on her chipped nail polish. I cover her hand with mine and pull them to my lap. She sighs and rests her head back. "What's going on in that pretty head yours?" I ask. She shrugs, bringing her legs up to her chest. She looks beautiful tonight, dressed comfortably and not a speck of makeup on her face. It doesn't make much a difference for me whether she's wearing it or not, but with her constantly messing with her eyes when she's wearing it I can tell she would rather not. "Nothing, my mom's just very stressed right now and I'm feeding off of it," she explains. Just do it. My hands start getting sweaty the longer I think about how to put what I want into words. Truth be told I could go on for hours about how much I love her and how she's drastically changed my life, even saved it in some ways. I could tell her everything I feel but she already knows. "Vina-" "Wait a minute," she says, stopping me from getting out a full sentence. "The smell of your...stuff came in." •••••• ~Vina's POV~
