NYX MANSON
FOR THREE FUCKING weeks I've had the sound of my name coming out of his mouth so painfully on repeat like a broken record in my mind. I've had the image of the sad, glossed look in his eyes glued to my memories for the past twenty one days.
My mind has been replaying every memory we shared like the reruns of my favourite TV show.
Every little detail about him I remember and miss so dearly. I miss the way my skin heated up, and my heart swelled with pure bliss whenever he touched me, talked to me, kissed me – just stood next to me.
Angelo and Nicola don't even stand outside my door anymore. I haven't seen them in weeks, and my heart breaks further each time I think about how I might never see them again.
What am I even saying? I'm already heartbroken enough with Vincenzo just leaving me like that. I've been throwing myself a fucking pity party for the past three weeks for crying out loud.
Vincenzo pulled me into his warm embrace and showed me something extraordinary, something I actually desired every waking moment of the day. He showed me his love. I want him back. I want him back so badly. He made me want no one other than him.
I miss the way he used to look at me when he was happy to be around me. The way he looked at me when he was overtaken by lust. The way he looked at me when he got jealous and protective.
My apartment feels unfamiliar and colder than before. I found comfort and warmth in a place where Vincenzo resided, and now that he isn't here, it feels so wrong, so cold.
I tried calling him just to hear his voice again, but he just let most of my calls go to voicemail. Texting him led me nowhere either, so I've just stopped trying to get in contact with him.
Is this what it feels like to have your heart broken?
How do people even live through this?
It's horrible.
Unlike me, my father was over the moon when I told him that Vincenzo and I were over. He was so happy that he even set me up on a date for tonight.
Vincenzo no longer wants to hear from me, so I will no longer think of him. It's time I fix myself up and forget about the devilish Italian man.
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I finish tying the laces of my white sneakers and stand up from my bed. I'd be lying if I said I put much effort into my appearance. An oversized football jersey is lazily tucked into the back of my baggy jeans so the front is tucked out.
I just got my hair done, so I decided to let my braids loose for the night and laid down my edges. In the mirror, I look like an ordinary girl. I rushed myself into growing up, so it's time I take my youth back and live a little.
I walk out of my room and hear a soft knock at my door. My eyes widen as I run to the door, my heart beating faster as I anticipate seeing his face on the other side of the door. I pull the door back with an expectant smile only to be disappointed.
“Uhm... hey?” The tall guy standing outside my apartment seems confused while I'm disappointed. “Is this where Nyx Manson lives?” He asks while looking me over.
I narrow my eyes for a moment before blankly staring at him. I ready myself to put up a fight if needed. “Yes. I'm Nyx,” I mutter while stepping back, ready to close the door in his face.
He clears his throat before smiling. “I'm Connor,” he says, and my brows furrow as I look him over once. “What's wrong?” He asks when he notices my confused look.
“You're not what I expected.”
“Excuse me?” He now looks confused, a bit offended too.
“The last guy my father set me up with was wearing a suit and had six figures in his bank account. You look like—”
“Like a college student who doesn't have six figures in his account?” He laughs.
My brows rise, finding his soft laugh and humour a bit amusing. “You're a college student?” I squeak, surprised that he's still in school.
I honestly expected my father to send over a rising businessman instead of someone who doesn't have much behind his name yet.
“Yeah, I'm nineteen,” he says with a shy look. “Your dad told me you're done with college 'cause you're super smart.”
“Yeah... early acceptance to MIT,” I mutter with a shrug.
He is dressed like someone I should be dating. A plain white shirt covers his broad shoulders and wraps around his chest and slim waist. A silver dog tag chain hangs from his neck.
His black jeans are baggy, and he's wearing the same sneakers as I am. There's a black, backwards, baseball cap on his head. Long strands of his brown hair stick out at the rim.
He has freckles scattered across his nose and onto his high cheekbones. His light, pink lips are a bit thick and aren't chapped. He isn't the biggest guy on the block, but I can tell he goes to the gym ever now and then.
“You look amazing,” he says, breaking the silence. My eyes snap up to his hazel eyes, his real hazel eyes. “And your eyes are beautiful.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
A smile stretches onto his lips, and he holds his hand out to me. I take hold of his large, warm hand and close the door to my apartment, locking it.
“Not gonna lie, I don't have some fancy dinner planned,” he admits with a laugh while scratching the back of his head.
“Good,” I laugh. “I could really go for some burgers and fries right now.”
His eyes light up. “I think I've found my soulmate,” he chuckles while playfully bumping into my shoulder with his body.
I smile up at him, thinking of how this might actually work out. But he's not my Italian man. We walk out of my flat building and across the street to a dark blue Maserati. No ordinary college student can afford this with all the costs of just going to college.
I stand in front of the car with my hand on my hip and an amused look on my face. “I thought you were just a college student with not much money in his account...”
“Yeah, I am, but my pops is loaded. That's how I got this date with you. He knows your dad, and they both thought we would make a good couple,” he explains.
“Really?” I laugh.
“Yep, so here I am, trying to impress you.”
“Well, colour me impressed,” I muse with a smile. Connor excitedly fist bumps the air before looking over at me with a cheeky grin. “You are silly,” I softly laugh while patting his arm.
“Do you like silly guys?” He asks with a cheeky grin.
“I think I do,” I say with a wink, and that only makes him smile wider.
He opens the car door for me, and I thank him before getting into his car. He closes the door and quickly jogs around the car to the driver's seat. I give him a small smile as he gets into the car and starts the engine, his smile still present on his handsome face.
He ain't that bad.
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Vincenzo, who?
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XOXO.
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