Edited: 10.28.2022
Somg: Rihanna ft Future - love song (slowed + reverb)
𝔚𝔚𝔚
Giana
I failed.
I studied for weeks, spent countless hours reading over the material, did practise tests yet I still failed my calculus test.
I look down at the big fat D on the paper and more tears pour out of my eyes.
I fucking failed.
I crumple the paper for the millionth time, only this time I stash it in the back of my closet, away from anyone's eyes.
I wasn't going to show anyone. I wasn't going to tell anyone. Even though I had spent the last two hours crying about it in my room, I was going to forget about it and act like it simply didn't happen.
But seriously? I worked so hard and I was certain I knew all the material.
It was all so humiliating. When my teacher first handed it to me, I smiled up at him like a giddy little girl and when I caught sight of the paper, I had to stop myself from losing it right there.
However the shame and self pity wasn't the worst part. It was the fact that I had people counting on me. Marco was probably looking forward to seeing at least a B and I had let him down.
I'd been in denial for so long but this just proved what I'd been scared to admit all along.
I was dumb.
The thought brings even more tears to my eyes and when I look down to mamá's bracelet on my wrist, I cry even harder.
I'm such a disappointment and I couldn't hide this from her, she's probably up there frowning down at me right now.
The shame eventually gets too much for me to handle so much so that I can't stand to be alone with myself anymore, I fall back on something I know won't end well.
I walk down the hall to Alessio's room.
I hadn't seen much of him all day and although I was partly avoiding him on purpose, I needed someone. I sigh in relief when I see him sitting on the sofa on the other side of his bedroom, near the fireplace and wet bar.
The fire is on and he's currently talking on the phone.
I knew from the way in which he was speaking it was someone important, plus he wasn't yelling. He was trying to remain as clam as possible, yet the poor file in his hand was slowly crumpling with the way his hand was balling into a fist.
I hesitantly take a step into the room, trying to make it seem like I'm going unnoticed, but can't even bring myself to do that properly seeing as I'm the biggest attention whore I know.
The thought brings a new set of tears to my eyes.
Its as though he senses my presence as I approach him because he leans forward sets the file on the table near him and holds a hand up for me, the universal 'wait' signal.
I ignore it and walk closer, until he glances up, his eyes briefly scanning my face before he does a double take.
He sits up, alarmed as he swiftly ends the call, promising to resume the conversation later, the action satisfying the attention whore inside me.
"What's wrong?" He sombers up immediately as I walk forward to stand before him.
A whole new set of tears gather and stream down my face as I look into his big brown eye. He would be so disappointed in me. I couldn't possibly tell him.
He already thought I was dumb, I couldn't give him another reason to think it.
I settle on a half truth. "I miss her so much." I say softly wiping at my eyes viciously.
A sigh escapes the man, and his eyes soften while a large hand engulfs mine and he pulls me down onto his lap.
I comply, falling to straddle him while he wraps his arms around my waist and pushes my head into his neck.
He doesn't say anything, but his fingers do travel into my scalp as he softly massages with his fingertips, allowing me to cry.
Cry about mamá. My grades. Feeling so alone. Everything.
I try focusing on his steady breathing and his fingers buried into my hair as he runs them through my scalp, but I can't seem to calm down. Instead I cry harder at the thought of never having someone to want to hold me like this ever again.
Alessio only felt like he had to and I knew I would never be loved like I wanted. It's not that I was unlovable, I just knew Alessio would grow sick of me-if he hasn't already.
I was too much sometimes and I hated myself for it. Mamá was the only one that had loved me unconditionally and now she was gone, and so was that unconditional love.
Eventually, I compose myself and sit up as he wipes a few tears and moves some hair out of my face. "You feeling better, Principessa?" The question is delivered genuinely and my chest loosens. He's not being mean, distant or awkward.
He's being sweet.
I rest my forehead against his chest and nod. Yet despite the way I'd just balled my eyes out, I didn't want to talk about what was making me sad right now. And I knew that if he began to pry, I'd burst and end up telling him the truth.
I didn't want that.
I enjoy the silence, that is until he pulls my head up to his. "You'll tell me what is bothering you, yes?"
"I don't want to talk about it." I sigh, moving my attention to study the buttons of his dress shirt. I change the subject. "Tell me about your day instead."
Alessio eyes me like he knows what I'm doing but decides to drop it when he leans back into the couch.
He rubs his eyes with the palms of his hands as he blows out a heavy breath. "Tiring, stressful and inconvenient." And then he moves his head from side to side, loud cracks sounding from the tense joints in his neck. "The usual."
I cringe as he brings a hand up and rubs at his neck in an attempt to stretch and relive the knots around his shoulders. He doesn't do a very good job.
It takes a brief moment of hesitation before I decide that for right now, I was going to push all the shit between us aside. "Where's your lotion."
He stops to raise a skeptical brow at me.
I roll my eyes, "I'm trying to help. That's all."
It takes him a moment, but he eventually leans over, reaches into a nearby drawer and pulls out a small tube of lotion.
I grab it and set it in his lap between us, before moving to unbutton his shirt.
I barely make it past the first button before he stills, grabbing my wrist to stop me. "Giana." There's a warning in his tone. "I don't have the energy for another one of your attempts."
My face burns in humiliation at his accusation yet it's another reminder of just how much I'd messed with the man. "I promise it's nothing like that." Guilt swims in my stomach, as I drop my hands. "I was just going to give you a proper massage, my mamá use to give them to me when my shoulders would grow tense from piano practise." my face growing serious. "If you don't want me to, I'll stop."
I had no intention of taking advantage of him like that. I only wanted to help him feel relaxed, and return the favour for holding me while I cried.
It takes a moment but Alessio nods, letting go of my hand allowing me to undo the buttons on his shirt, exposing the tan broad skin underneath. My movements are slow, almost hesitant as I try to be as casual as possible.
"Your mamá wasn't the best at communicating her feelings, but I bet she's proud of how far you've come." He suddenly murmur. And I focus on slipping the white material over his broad shoulders, blinking away the tears.
Wrong. She'd take one glance at my test paper and look at me in a mix of pity and disappointment, like I was a lost cause, dumb for the rest of eternity.
Yet despite that, she'd still love me.
I wanted that back. I wanted to be loved.
I tilt my head down and focus on grabbing the lotion as I apply some onto my hands, while Alessio leans farther back into the couch.
I can feel him watching me when his thumb comes up to gently brush away a stray tear.
The action so sweet and unlike the man I'd thought him to be. I laugh softly as I recall Mamá telling me about how the man was a softie under his rough exterior. I thought she was being ridiculous, but I guess she was right.
"What's so funny?" He asks, his thumb lingering on my cheek after he's wiped the few tears.
I shake my head and chuckle, "Mamá was right about you."
Something in his expression tightens, "About what?"
"That you aren't that bad when you look past the grumpy workaholic." I tease.
He visibly relaxes, but instead of replying he sinks back into the seat and his eyes shut as my hands begin rubbing my lotion covered hands along his chest and up to his tense muscles.
I knead and massage my fingers into his tense skin and the room erupts in silence save for the sound of the soft cracking of the fireplace and Alessio's deep exhale.
I can feel Alessio's eyes on me, I finally pull my concentrated gaze away from his defined shoulders and neck. "What?"
"Nothing." He bites back a smile and I move my hands up to where his shoulders meet his neck. He lets out a satisfied grunt. "I'm just surprised you've been able to stay quiet for this long."
My lips part in surprise at what just came out of his mouth and he chuckles at my reaction. I dig my hands into his tense skin and squeeze hard, "Shut up, old man."
With a low sigh that almost sounding like a groan, he throws his head back as his eyes shut in bliss but he raises a brow at me. "Old man?"
"Yeah." I respond, my fingers moving towards the back of his neck as I scoot closer.
He hums. "If this didn't feel so good, I'd punish your ass for that comment."
I laugh and make a mental note to start calling him that more often.
The edges of his lips twitch and my laughter ceases the second I feel his hand move under my shirt. He snakes a hand around my waist, pulling me against him. His eyes are still closed and my eyes drop to the mischievous smirk on his lips.
When his eyes do finally open, my face is only a few inches from his and I lose myself in his deep brown eyes. Which only takes me by complete surprise when he starts tickling my sides.
I shriek and try squirming out of his hold but he keeps me pinned against him with the hold around my waist. "Old man?" He hums, as I giggle uncontrollably, making out his raised brow. "Still think I'm an old man?"
I nod. "Y-yes." I laugh and he only tickles me more to the point where tears spill from my eyes because of how much I'm laughing.
That is until he suddenly stands with me in his arms. My laughing turns to an embarrassing squeal of surprise before he continues to handle me like I weight nothing.
"Could an old man do this, huh?" I don't have time to respond before he's twisting me in his hold and tossing me over his shoulder.
"Alessio-" I gasp. I'm left to clutch onto his muscular back, the only support from him being a hand lazily resting on the back of my upper thigh. Not as tight as it should be. "I'm going to fall-"
"You'll fall if my back gives out, like an old man." He muses, his tone filled with smug amusement.
Him and I both knew he wasn't an old man.
The harmless threat lingers between us but I don't want to admit it yet, "exactly, I can't rely on an old man to carry me. Put me down-"
His palm comes in contact with my upper thigh in the form of a light slap. Before he loosens his already unstable hold.
He wouldn't drop me...right?
I stop teasing and shriek when I feel myself start to slip out of his hold."F-fine, fine. I take it back you're not an old man."
He gives a satisfied hum rubbing the skin he'd slapped before he flings me onto his bed.
I land atop the soft surface with yet another shriek and he chuckles before abruptly turning around and walking away. I sit up on my elbows and adjust my shirt that rode up, as I stare at him in confusion.
What just happened?
It's not until he returns with the lotion in his hand that my confusion clears enough for me to watch his muscular form. Only in a pair of slacks, his broad shoulders, abs and narrow waist are on display. My eye follow the movement of his muscular arms trailing to the veins on his forearms and hands.
And then my gaze moves down to the tattoo on his side, his body was relatively untouched but before I could get a good look at it up close I peek up to see him looking down at me, a knowing glint in his eyes.
One that tells me he knows I was just checking him out.
I look away as he throws the lotion in-front of me before climbing onto the bed and moving towards me.
I raise a brow. "You think you deserve a massage after what you just did?" I force my eyes away from the sight of his shoulder muscles contracting as he makes his way towards me, even though I desperately want to watch.
"I might not deserve it," His low voice drawls. "But you'll give me one anyways."
I cross my arms and glance towards him. "And why's that?"
His broad shoulders lift up an inch as he shrugs, and his lips tip at one side. "Because I asked." He lays next to me, his top half resting back against the headboard.
"No you didn't." I point out in a matter of fact manner.
"Well..." His voice is low as he grabs my wrist and I let him pull me towards him, until I'm nearly straddling him. And when that threatens to make my stomach dip, he takes my hands and begins to place some lotion in the palms of them. "I'm asking, now."
I stare at him, trying to keep my face set in a stoic one yet even I can't help the way my hands naturally move back to his chest as the man bites back a smile.
I didn't know what I was getting myself sucked into by doing this, perhaps it was more heartache or drama. But my hands were already working at his upper shoulders and the man had already thrown his head back, and shit his eyes.
I couldn't stop now.
Which is why I move onto the back of his neck, trying to remain indifferent to the barely there sighs slipping from his lips.
Lips that were moving against mine last night.
Lips that were so soft yet firm. Possessive yet warm. Demanding yet-
No.
I stop myself when I realize that my body had started to naturally inch towards his more than necessary.
Not only was I on my knees, sitting up off his lap, but my front was practically glued to his and my fingers were tangled in the hair at the nape of his neck.
And just when I'm about to pull away, his hands come to rest on either sides of my waist, like he's holding me steady, in place.
And that's when I look to his face and realize just what my subconscious was getting at. His parted lips are an inch from mine, his eyes shut and his breath fanning across my lips.
I stare down at his lips, an array of emotions processing through my mind.
"Cazzo. I needed this." A low grunt follows his breathy sighs.
I debate on moving back, our position with his hands on my waist more intimate than before, but a part of me, a very small part of me wants to believe that this time it'll be different.
This time he's seeing me as more.
This time he won't pull away.
The thought has me tightening my hold on his hair and running my nails across his scalp.
The actions causes a low groan to leave his lips. "This feels amazing, baby." He breaths and I smile, continuing my actions. Allowing myself to bask in the proximity and touch he brought me.
"Why are you so quiet?" He murmurs his eyes still shut.
My heart and brain are at war.
"Nothing." I brush off softly, yet the way my breath fans across his lips is unmistakeable.
"Is that so?" His breathing picks up, and his broad chest heaves. He must feel our proximity.
I don't respond. Instead, my arms wind up around his neck as I move my fingers deeper into his hair, moving with the intent to control my heart from beating wildly at his suggestive tone. Yet my back slightly arches as I push closer to him, and his hands slide to the small of my back, his palm creating a pressure at the bottom of my spin.
"I find that hard to believe." He murmurs. "You're too problematic to be naturally quiet."
I snap out of my thoughts and tug on the strands of hair beneath my hands. L "You're mean." I snap.
"And you're rough." He breathes out a mix between a grunt and a laugh.
I bet you'd know all about that...
"What?!" He blurts, lifting his head abruptly. His eyes snap open and I only have a spilt second to see the bewilderment on his face before his head is crashing into mine.
I flinch and hiss at the impact of his head hitting mine, and due to our proximity it wasn't a small bump. The sting hurts but I have bigger things to worry about because I had said that out loud.
But I recover quickly.
"Ow!" I hiss, retracting my head from near his as my hand comes out to hold the throbbing skin. I decide to play it off and make him think he was hearing things because I refuse to let it embarrass me. So I pretend it didn't happen. "What was that for?" I ask looking up at him meeting his bewildered gaze with one of my own.
"What did you just say?" He suddenly demands.
"Aside from the fact that you're mean?" He searches my face but all I show him is a look of confusion as I hold my head. "Nothing."
He stares at me a moment before shaking the thought away with a light shake of his head. "Nothing." He brings his hands up to tilt my head and examine the throbbing skin. "I thought I heard something."
I can sense the hesitancy on his face.
"So you decided to head butt me?" I ask my voice raising an octave.
"Of course not. I didn't realize your face was so close to mine." He instantly defends before he stops and stares at me, an accusing glint in his eyes. "Why was your face so close to mine?" And then a red hue creeps up his face as though he's angry. "Were you trying to kiss me?"
I frown at him. "No."
But the way he'd do effortlessly blew up at me has me questioning if his reaction is how he truly felt about me.
Did he think I was to blame for everything? That it was all one sided?
Anger bubbles in my chest. I should have known better than letting my guard down so easily.
Last I checked, he kissed me.
"I wasn't trying to kiss you." I grit, "But it was also hard for me to move when you're big ass hands we're holding me in place." I feel his hands move from holding my head.
"I wasn't holding you." He grows even more defensive. "Was this your intention all along-"
Did he seriously think so low of me? That I was that desperate? Like I was some dog just waiting to jump him any chance I got?
I should be angry and upset but all I feel is guilt and sadness. I was partly to blame for his reaction. My brows crease and my shoulders sag.
I was only trying to make him feel better because no one else did. I was trying to be genuine and he's making me feel like shit. "I was only trying to make you feel better because you're always taking care of things. I promise I was only doing something genuine."
I feel so pathetic having to say it aloud.
It's quiet and when I look up to see apprehension on his face, I know this was a mistake. But before I can say anything, he sighs and shakes his head.
His hands find my head and he tilts my head. "I'm sorry about this." He focuses his attention on the red bulb forming on the side of my head. "Does it hurt that bad?"
Despite his genuine tone, I don't feel like being here anymore.
I move my head out of his grasp and mumble out a response. "It's fine." I don't hide my sudden drop in mood as I get off him and make a move to leave, feeling even worse than before.
Alessio sighs, "Principessa," He calls softly grabbing my hand and turning me towards him. "I was only curious. You can't blame me for thinking those things."
My face falls at his ability to make this whole thing worse. It's like he realizes this when he shakes his head, "Cazzo, that came out wrong."
But his face tells me he meant it, he just didn't mean for it to come out so rudely. I got the message loud and clear.
He thought of me as some obsessed, crazed little girl.
But that's not how this was, I've seen the desire in his eyes and the way he looks at me, holds me, touches me.
It was not one sided.
He needed to realise that and it was about time he came to terms with the fact that he was attracted to me.
I plaster on a fake smile meanwhile all I want to do is tear his head off. "No, you're right." I say as his brows furrow, "I was trying to kiss you because that's how it's always been, right?" I say my smile turning into a taunting one.
We both know he kissed me yesterday.
His face hardens and I can tell he doesn't want to talk about it and so I just simply send him another smile as I shake my head.
"But don't worry, I can assure you that I won't be the one coming onto you anymore." I throw over my shoulder as I walk out of the room.
I was going to show him, show him that this was all in his head.
And I had to do it by getting in his head.
𓆩❤︎𓆪
Next chapter is Alessio's POV and I can't wait lol.