𝙏𝙐𝙏𝙏𝙊 𝙀 𝙉𝙄𝙀𝙉𝙏𝙀
+ everything and nothing
"They sat on the ground, in the heat of the greenhouse, talking about everything and nothing. They talked about their families, their lovers, their lives. They gave each other their names. Monica...
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SHE WAS MESMERIZING. He was absolutely hooked, from the first time he saw her, from the moment she drunkenly knocked on his door and confessed, without a glimpse of shame, she would like to sleep with him. From the second he pressed herself against his doorframe, a slick smile playing on her lips. Her hand gestures, her smudged lipstick, the way the sweat on her neck made her dark hair cling to her fair skin. He hadn't seen someone like that before. Someone so free, yet so troubled. So adventurous, yet so timid. Monica Montecello was like nothing and everything.
He and she and she and he. What a lovely sonnet that would transform itself into reality. She was so drunk when they met, yet he was as sober as he had ever been. Her face woke him up from whatever liquor his brothers pushed down his throat. They talked a little, mostly Monica tried convincing him that it was indeed her house, and it would be most kind of him to remove himself so that she could enter. She confessed her head hurt and that she was dizzy. It made Finn smile, of course, how couldn't have it made him smile? She was playful with all her words, not thinking about what she was saying. She told him she thought he was cute and that when he does decide to let her in, to come upstairs with her. It shocked him so much it left him speechless, in search for an answer that could never possibly rival her daring suggestion.
And then, one of her friends came running and threw a hand around her shoulders. She called him 'baby', so sweet and short, and complained about how this cute freckled stranger wouldn't let her enter her very own house. The friend laughed and pressed a kiss to her cheek.
"Andiamo, M, let's go. She's had too much to drink, I apologize."
And just like that, the odd pair left. Finn stepped outside the house, looking after them until they cut the corner and exited his vision.
He went back, lied to his brothers about who was at the door and carried on with his evening. But her face was burned into his brain, it was impossible to take his mind off her leaning body, the hair clinging to her neck, her smudged lipstick. The friend, andiamo, everything stuck.
And thankfully, it wouldn't be the last time her presence marked him.
