Fire On Fire (#Wattys2019)

Chapter-17

I looked up to find him studying me.

"What is it?" I ask.

He reached for my hand, his fingers drawing slow, torturous patterns on my wrist as they trailed across my skin gently.

"You saved him," he murmured. "You, with your incredible presence of mind and brilliant, tireless brain."

I blushed. "That's more praise than I deserve."

"How is he?" he asked.

I shrugged. "It's too soon to say."

"What do you mean? Was there a complication?"

"Y-No. I can't say." Real smooth.

His eyebrows rose in confusion. "You don't know?"

"I know," I sighed. "I can't say yet."

"I'm not asking you for nuclear launch codes," he said, in a slightly exasperated manner. "All I want to know is what happened. You think I'm going to run around in the streets announcing it?"

No, I just think you work for the largest  newspaper in the city.

"You'll find out soon enough," was all I said.

His face hardened, and I knew my answer had irked him. I leaned in, letting my fingers run gently up his arm to his shoulder, before trailing down his chest and entangling in the fabric of his shirt. I tugged him closer, closing the last few inches of space between us, and softly kissed his collarbone, as I felt his body go rigid with surprise, before he wrapped his arm around me. His fingers gently ran up and down my spine, coaxing shivers out of me. My lips ghosted against his jaw, and I pulled back a bit, looking into his eyes. They were drunk with passion, the raw lust in them making my confidence waver, sending a delicious quiver down my body, but I leaned in again, drinking in his scent, sharing the very air he breathed. "Control freak," I whispered softly against his lips, before I kissed him.

The next thing I knew, he grabbed the back of my neck, pulling me impossibly closer, his insistent mouth parting my lips as I felt liquid warmth flow through my veins. His touch brought me to life, intoxicated me, and all I could feel was him. His warmth, his touch. Every fibre of my being craved more, craved him. This. This felt true. This felt good.

Before long he drew away, and I made a small sound of protest, instantly missing the delicious heat curling within me. He smiled, his hand making his way to my neck to play with my hair, before he pressed a soft kiss against my forehead. "Soon, Cara Mia," he murmured gently.

The server arrived soon with our order, and I let go of him, sitting up straight. Sipping my drink, I turned my gaze around the charming interiors of the room.

"Wow," I said. "I always thought Aiden was, like, seriously broke, but turns out I was wrong."

He laughed at this. "He is broke, to be honest. Spent most of high school and all of university strumming guitars by day and getting wasted by night. But he's doing what he loves. I try and help out wherever I can, but there's only so much I can do before it appears patronizing."

"Do you live with him?"

"Heavens, no," he shook his head, looking mortified at the thought. "Not anymore. He still lives with Lorenzo and Genevieve. I have a place in the city."

"But you used to live with them," I asked.

"I did," he affirmed.

I bit my lip, not sure how to put forth the question on my mind. "You've never mentioned your parents."

He met my eyes, and held my gaze, before he sighed, running his hand through his hair.

"I was born in Florence," he said. "My mother was an architect, my father a writer. Or atleast, he tried. He struggled, but he was optimistic. Almost to the degree of foolishness. He viewed the world through rose tinted glasses, and was assured of the fact that come one day, he would write a timeless masterpiece that would immortalize him, and put down his name in black and white for people to read in history books for generations to come." He turned his face away slightly. "My mother was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, and she left her job. But he was confident. He worked harder than ever. The money disappeared, but he was sure of himself, he was positive. And then he was in debt, but he still believed he could fend for us." He closed his eyes. "Until one day, he wasn't confident anymore. Turns out, when the world delivers enough blows on your back, you end up permanently hunched. All it took was loads of sleeping pills and a bottle of whiskey."

"Sebastian," I whispered softly.

"I found the body. I had been lying curled up against him for almost an hour before my mom found me. Lorenzo and Genevieve flew down the next day, and everything was taken care of, and we moved to London with them. I was seven. But for my mom, it was the last straw. We tried everything, but she grew worse, before they finally decided to get her committed."

I reached for his hand, tears filling my eyes. "I'm so sorry," I whispered.

He shook his head. "It was a long time ago."

I sat there, my heart breaking, every other emotion wiped from my being. We stayed quiet, the silence eerie, hanging in the air like the suspended moment before a fallen vase shatters into a million pieces. After a while he turned to me and smiled softly, pulling me closer as he kissed my nose. "I'm sorry," he sighed. "Way to ruin a conversation."

"No," I whispered, shaking my head slightly. 

In that moment, I was so happy to have met him, and I was scared. The feeling was so alien, as it spread through my being. I felt endangered, as if I was falling, and at the same time, I felt completely safe. I felt so light, like I was on top of the world, yet my heart was constricting and it felt as if there was no oxygen in my lungs. There was such joy, and such pain. I had been broken before, and I had stopped believing in forever, until now. Falling for him was the easy part, it was admitting to myself that it had happened that was hard.

___________________________________________

Hey everyone! Thanks for reading, and I do hope you all enjoyed the chapter  :)

Don't forget to vote and comment!